“Certainly. Log on to Ellnet, then the password is twilight1665. I’ll leave you to it then, miss.”
Twilight, huh? Maybe Hugh Ellingham was a fan of the books. Then again, considering the town he lived in, it might also just be an attempt at humor. “Thanks again.”
Stanhill gave a little nod and left.
She put Captain on the bed, then jogged back down to the car and grabbed the rest of his stuff. Stanhill hadn’t hesitated to give her the Wi-Fi code or acted strangely around her at all. Except for the basement thing. If he suspected she was a phony, he’d hidden it well.
Now she just had to convince the man who actually owned this place. More than that—she had to make him believe she was his perfect match.
Being able to walk in daylight didn’t mean it was Hugh’s preference, nor did it change the fact that it was in a vampire’s nature to favor the evening hours over those awash in sunlight. Unless there was pressing business to attend to, he compromised by rising late, when the sun was lower in the sky and the shadows longer.
He walked into the kitchen to find Stanhill sitting at the table polishing silver. “Are we having company that I forgot about?”
Stanhill snorted. “Indeed, Ellingham. Your match has arrived early.”
“My what?” Then he swore softly. “She wasn’t due until next week.” He instantly retracted his fangs, his decision to appear as human as possible to deter his new guest’s advances firmly in place.
“Or the dowager blurred the truth a little.”
He scrubbed his hands over his face. “That’s more likely. Where is the love sick woman?”
“Asleep in the ivory suite for the last five hours.”
“Good. Maybe she’ll stay there.”
Stanhill set down a spoon and picked up a serving fork. “She doesn’t seem particularly love sick.”
Hugh poured a large black coffee and took it to the table. He sat across from Stanhill. “That’s promising. What does she seem like?”
“Nice. Pretty, probably more so when she’s not worn out from all that driving. Good natured. A light packer. For a woman coming for a month’s visit with a man she hopes to marry, she only brought one large suitcase and one small one.” Stanhill shrugged, then added, “And she’s an animal lover.”
“That’s an odd quality to call out. What makes you think that?”
Stanhill’s mouth bent oddly, and when he raised his gaze to Hugh’s, his eyes held a curious spark. “She brought her cat.”
“She did what?”
“Did you expect her to leave it alone for a month? Seems fairly harmless, though.”
Hugh inhaled. “Bloody hell. I smell it already.”
Stanhill frowned. “No, you don’t.” He picked up the bottle of silver polish. “This has ammonia in it. Calm down, your lordship.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Don’t act like a spoiled peer that needs to be spoon fed. It’s a cat, not a wrecking ball.”
Hugh grimaced. “You like her.”
Stanhill cut his eyes away from his work to give Hugh an incredulous look. “After centuries of no one but you for company, how could I not?” He smiled. “Besides, it’ll be nice to have someone else to talk to. Especially of the female persuasion.”
“You have Corette and I bloody doubt it,” he snarled.
Stanhill went back to his work with a grunt. “Woke up in a mood, too, I see.”
“You would have too if you were having a bridezilla thrust upon you.”
At the soft clearing of a throat, he and Stanhill turned. A very pretty woman stood in the kitchen doorway. From the look in her big green eyes, she’d heard him loud and clear. His gut sank with that realization. Whether or not he wanted this, it wasn’t her fault she was here.
She bent her head, and the soft chestnut waves framing her face closed around her pained expression like a curtain. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I was just…I’ll be upstairs.”
She turned and fled before Hugh could stop her.
“Now you’ve mucked it up,” Stanhill said. “She leaves and the dowager is going to snatch that amulet from around your neck quicker than you can blink.”
Hugh glared at him.
Stanhill put down a butter knife and shook his head. “Well?”
“Well what?”
“Go fix it, you dimwitted night crawler.”
Hugh shoved his chair back and went after her. She’d beaten him to her room, and her door was closed. He knocked softly. “Miss Givens?”
After a few seconds, she answered, “Yes?”
“May I have a word with you?”
She opened the door. Indignation danced in her eyes. “You mean a word besides bridezilla?”
He took a deep breath. “My apologies. That was unwarranted.”
“I’d say. You don’t even know me.”
He held his hands up. “You’re absolutely right. Can we start over?”
“Maybe.” She made no move to let him in, leaning against the door frame and crossing her arms under her breasts.
The move created a valley of cleavage that erased his thoughts for a moment. What had she said? Oh, yes. “Maybe?”
“First, tell me why you said I’d been thrust upon you. Didn’t you want me to come?”
He raked a hand through his hair. The woman had guts, he’d give her that. She was also nothing like the women he usually dated. Not blonde. Not reed slim. Not coiffed to within an inch of her life. “It’s not so much I didn’t want you to come as I only found out about you yesterday.”