The Vampire Laird (A Ravynne Sisters Paranormal Mystery/Romance)

by Merabeth James

  Charlie took the seat next to her. “Nothing for me, thank you.” she told him.

  A shadow flickered in his green eyes. “As you wish,” he told her, crossing to the bell pull and summoning the butler. While they waited for the wine, Charlie and Meg looked around the room. The furniture was definitely 18th century and worth a fortune.

  He apparently noticed their interest. “This manor was a ruin when I bought the Lairdship of Blackcreag, which included this manor, all the surrounding land, the village and the castle you see up on the black crag for which it was named. The title of ‘Laird’ came with it for the right price...one I was happy to pay. The furniture is authentic...most of it original to this house, though I had to search for a lot of the pieces through various dealers and auction houses in order to recover them. Though they were on the ‘right side’ of the Jacobite rebellion in 1745 and did not have to forfeit their land and title, it seems one lack penny laird after another bled this estate until there was little left. I would have loved to live in the castle, but it lacks any and all creature comforts so I focused my efforts on restoring this place, which is a veritable rabbit warren of additions and add-ons that are detrimental to the original builder’s intent. But it is what it is and I find myself quite at home here.”

  “So you are officially the laird, if not by blood, by the right price. Just how did you find this place?” Meg asked, as the butler entered discreetly and left the tray on a side table.

  Seth poured her a glass of chilled Chablis, as he replied, “Orianna and I were sailing along the coast on a particularly fine day and I saw the castle up on the cliffs. I was enchanted. The view of it from the sea is even more spectacular than from the landside. The manor house was a bonus, as was what was left of the village. It was pure coincidence that my name, Marley, so closely resembled the MacMorleys. I had hoped for a blood connection somewhere, but could find nothing unless you consider my love for this old place a tie to it.”

  Charlie smiled. “As good as any, I would imagine. You have a slight accent...barely noticeable. May I ask your point of origin?”

  “I was born in the States, but I’ve lived all over the world. This is as close to a permanent home as I’ve ever had, but even so, I come and go quite often.”

  “I’m sure it’s terribly gauche to ask...maybe unforgivably so... but how in the world do you afford all this?” Meg asked, eying one beautiful and probably priceless antique after another.

  He smiled at her over the rim of his glass. “I manage.” A bell rang from the bowels of the house and his smile deepened. “Saved by the bell from further interrogations. It appears supper is served. If you will allow me, ladies?”

  They followed their host to the formal dining room with its long burled walnut table, matching chairs for twenty and enormous sideboard. He seated them on either side of him and frowned...his lips tightening in irritation. “Orinanna and your brother should be here shortly, but there seems to be a mistake in the seating arrangements. I specifically ordered that we all be seated on this end of the table.”

  The words had barely left his mouth, when Oriana and Allyn appeared through the double pocket doors and took their places on the opposite side. With the candelabras and centerpiece of white mums and pink roses between them, there was little they could see of their brother, but what they did see was alarming. He was pale, thin, and his eyes were...well, haunted was the word that came to both their minds.

  Orianna watched them through half closed eyes from her place next to Allyn. She was very beautiful; both sisters hated to admit, and had moved with a fluid almost boneless grace that gave her an ethereal quality. Her smile was both cold and knowing, as her long, white fingers, absently, toyed with Allyn’s shirt sleeve.

  “Orianna,” Seth called. “Why are you seated so far away? These ladies are Allyn’s sisters...Meg and Charlie...I told you about them yesterday.”

  Her smile deepened. “I ordered it. We are comfortable where we are. Allyn is quite tired today and does not want the strain of making conversation, isn’t that right darling?”

  Allyn looked directly at his sisters and smiled. It was a caricature of his usual boyish grin. “Orinanna is right. I wonder why you are even here,” he said in the remote voice of a stranger. “No one invited you.”

  “I’m afraid, Allyn, you are being rather rude,” Seth told him. “Your sisters have come a long way to see you!”

  “Allyn is not feeling well enough for a family visit...especially if they are here to admonish him for some reason. I’m sure you understand,” Orianna purred as her smile turned sly. She shrugged and brushed back her long dark hair with one hand. “I do not control him. If he had asked them to come, it might be different. Come, Darling. I think we will have our meal some place, where we aren’t treated like lackwit schoolchildren. It was a...pleasure?...meeting you both.” With that she took Allyn’s hand and they both rose from the table.

  Charlie bolted from her chair and hurried to intercept them. “Allyn,” she cried, as Orianna pulled him towards the door. “Allyn, why are you doing this? What’s happened to you?”

  She grabbed his arm, but he, roughly shook himself free, then looked at her. His eyes were dead...that was the only way she could describe them. A flicker of recognition flared, briefly, then died as quickly as it had come. He mumbled something she couldn’t begin to understand, as he allowed Orianna to lead him away. A smug smile accompanied the triumphant look she flung over her shoulder, as she slammed the door in Charlie’s face.

  Shaking her head...her hands balled into tight fists...Charlie returned to her seat and exchanged looks with Meg who was also ready to explode. Seth watched them with interest and said, “I was hoping he was better, but, as you can see, today is not one of his good days. But there will be other chances. I really do want you to get Allyn out of here. Orianna likes to play games and doesn’t always care that others may not share her sense of playfulness...or may get hurt. Her liaisons don’t usually last long and have always ended badly. I rather like your brother. That’s why I disapprove so strongly. He is too susceptible. Now try not to let that little scene spoil your appetites. One of our courses is fresh trout I caught in the burn only this morning.”

  But neither sister had any appetite at all. They both sat there in shocked silence until Seth grimaced in irritation. “You’re upset. I was afraid of this very outcome. I have a suggestion for you. Why don’t you both move up from the manse. That way you will see Allyn more often and may prove an antidote to Orianna.”

  “You say that as if she is a deadly poison, which I wouldn’t find hard to believe at all from what we just witnessed,” Meg murmured, badly shaken by what she’d seen.

  “She is willful, wild, sensual and has certain dark appetites,” he said with a shrug and a smile.

  Meg gasped and rose half way out of her seat. “How can you just sit there and casually say that like you're discussing the weather? What dark appetites do you meant?”

  He laughed. “Please sit down, my dear. I only mean her passions are strong, little Meg. Nothing more than that I assure you.”

  “Do you know anything about a White Lady walking on the moors?” Charlie asked, watching him closely.

  “Ah...you have heard the legend of the Baobhan Sith...the Lady in White. Of course, everyone in these parts knows of her. She finds a likely lad and dances with him till he drops, then...well, then she drinks his blood.”

  “Then she’s a vampire!” Meg cried in horror.

  He laughed. “Yes...so it would seem. Thousands of years ago the Celtic tribes roamed Eastern Europe before they settled here. Reportedly, some of the clans were infected by vampires. The MacMorley’s being one of them."

  “But wouldn’t a vampire look different? Like a vampire? With fangs and such?” Meg asked, thinking that Orianna had very sharp claws, but no fangs that she had seen. Of course, she hadn’t gotten a really close look.

  He smiled then, clearly amused. “I’m sure vampires look like ordina
ry people...like you, Meg...or me.”

  “Like you?”

  “If I really was the Laird of Blackcreag, I could be one you know and, if that was true, just how safe would you or your sister be? Not to mention Allyn, who has his own set of worries...some he’s not even aware of yet,” he said silkily.

  Charlie was growing more and more irritated with their host. “I’m sure you are enjoying your little joke, Seth. Apparently, Orianna didn’t roll far from the tree. First you offer to let us stay here and then you tell us you may be a vampire. That we may not be safe. We will be happy to accept your offer to move up here, but fair warning, playing games with either of us could have very unfortunate results for you...Orianna...or anyone else.”

  She hadn’t expected him to laugh, but he did. “Really, my dear, as they say around here ‘dinnae fash yerself’. I can scarcely be a vampire, when I am not even a MacMorley, so please forgive my verbal play. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

  But, needless to say, the remainder of the meal was strained and both sisters were glad, when the Rolls Royce picked them up and they headed back down to the manse. Sitting in the back seat in the dark, Meg muttered, “I really...really don’t like her. And what’s up with Allyn? He looked like a robocopy of his former self. And since when has he taken to wearing an ascot unless there’s something he’s trying to hide.”

  “Like what? Fang marks?” Charlie asked not so sure she wasn’t right.

  “Could be! And didn’t she look like she could suck the life out of any man?”

  “And then there’s Seth. What was all that vampire stuff about? If he was trying to scare us, he was wasting his time.”

  “Speak for yourself. He scared me,” Meg told her. “Now what do we do?”

  “Move in and try to rescue Allyn,” Charlie told her with a sigh.

  “From the way she was hanging on to him that won’t be easy!” Meg replied. “Do you think Seth is a vampire, too? Maybe a Transylvania transplant with a name like Vladamir?”

  Charlie laughed. “I think he’s big on theater. And we don’t really think Orianna is a vampire, do we?”

  Meg was thoughtful for a long moment before she whispered. “If not a vampire, she certainly is a bitch! But, then again, she could be both, couldn’t she?”

  “The bitch part I have no argument with!”

  ***

  They stood by the window in the darkened room. “I let you see your precious sisters, Allyn. In fact, there they go, heading back to the manse. Your sister...Charlie is it?...is very aggressive and could be more of a problem than I thought,” Orianna told him thoughtfully, scraping a red tipped finger down the side of his cheek till it drew blood.

  “Leave my sisters alone or.....” he muttered thickly.

  “Or what? If you’re willful, my darling, you won’t get what you need and I may be forced to hurt them...rather badly. Now you wouldn’t want that, would you?”

  He sighed and shook his head, then mumbled a strangled, “No!”

  She slid her hand up his back with the slow slither of a snake climbing a tree. Her laugh was dark and sultry. “You don’t want them here! Say it, Allyn! You don’t want them here!”

  And God help him, he echoed her words. "I don't want them here!" He watched the Rolls Royce's tail lights grow dim with distance and a cold wave of fear closed around his heart like a clenched fist before he slid to the floor.

  ***

  The next morning, after making a sizeable donation for “the puir an’ needy”, they said their good-byes to Angus who wasn’t at all keen about their decision to move to the manor. “Ah’m afeart fer ye. Ye’re makin’ a big mistake. Nothin’ Ah can put a name tae, but Ah’m worried aboot ye. Ye’ll be safer here wi’ me at the manse.” Tilda didn’t add anything to the conversation except a brusque nod before she headed back to the kitchen.

  “We’ll be fine, Angus,” Charlie said. “It’s the best way to stay close to Allyn. Thank you for all your hospitality. You’ve been kind and I’m sure we will be seeing you again soon.”

  Meg gave the little man a warm hug. “Good-bye, Angus. You have been almost the only friend we’ve found here and we’ll be back to visit.” They didn’t look back but both sensed his disapproval hanging over them like a dark cloud. One without a silver lining!

  It was a cool morning, as they loaded their bags in their car. A strong breeze was blowing off the sea and the sun had not yet cleared the high peaks to the east. “Ready?” Charlie asked. They had spent most of the night talking over what they had seen and had decided they were doing the right thing. This was their best and, quite probably, their only way to stay in touch with Allyn.

  Meg smiled wanly. “‘Damn the torpedoes’, etc.,” she told her, but didn’t tell her that she was having one of her feelings again. She would save it for later. Charlie had enough on her mind just then.

  Which she did! At that very moment, she was thinking that Allyn had looked awful at dinner last night, which was understating what they both had seen. There were other words...words like ‘undead’. She shook her head and grimaced. Now she was being ridiculous! There was no such thing as a vampire...the undead...bah! Then she remembered the spirits that haunted their home at Hensley Hall and smiled. She hadn’t believed in them either and how very wrong she had been!

  They climbed in the car and Charlie started the engine. Both were quiet on the drive up. They passed through the open gates and parked in front of the massive doors, where a maid in a black and white was sweeping the broad steps. “Good day to you,” she said with a bright smile, as she bobbed a curtsey.

  Meg was amazed. “I didn’t know people still did that!”

  “It seems Seth Marley is relishing his role as lord of the manor and the staff is trained accordingly,” Charlie replied as she slid out of her seat and met Meg at the bottom of the steps. They were about to bang the heavy brass doorknocker when it opened and Seth stood there, dressed in an impeccably tailored business suit. He looked down at them and smiled. To Charlie it looked like the very smile a spider would wear when his favored flies walked into his parlor. She shuddered reflexively and hoped he hadn’t noticed.

  His smile shifted almost imperceptibly as he said, “Good morning, ladies. Perfect timing! I wanted to catch you before I left for Inverness. Business you know. No kilt today, just the required attire for an international meeting. Have you had your breakfast?”

  “Thank you, yes. We ate at the manse,” Meg replied, looking around with a combination of anticipation and apprehension.

  “If you give me your car keys, I’ll have someone bring in your luggage and park your car in the garage. I have alerted the staff that you will be staying with us for as long as it pleases you to stay. I really must leave now. The flight isn’t all that long, but some of my...associates...are sticklers for punctuality. Johns will show you to your rooms. They are an adjoining suite with a view of the sea, castle and mountains beyond.”

  “I’m sure you’ve thought of everything,” Charlie murmured politely. “Quite probably more than we might have wanted.”

  He raised one brow and smiled sardonically. “You would be surprised I think, but then again maybe not,” he told her as he met her gray eyes. “By the way...I hope you’ll forgive my talk of vampires last night at supper. The MacMorleys do indeed have that reputation. In fact, the castle was renamed Bluid or Blood Castle a number of centuries ago. But, let me assure you, I am not a vampire. The idea is quite ridiculous, when you consider it, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Meg answered for both of them. “I’m not so sure,” she told him with a thoughtful frown, which he found quite amusing.

  They stepped into the entry hall, while he gave last minute instructions to Johns and disappeared toward the back of the house. “This way if you please!” Johns intoned coldly, then led them up the left staircase and along the portrait gallery, where the dead Lairds of Blackcreag hung along with their ladies, offspring, horses and hounds either singly or in various combinations.


  Meg grimaced and whispered. “Wanna bet there’s more than one vampire in that lot? Look at that one with the burning eyes and cruel mouth. Remind you of anyone we’ve met at Hensley Hall?”

  Charlie knew exactly who she meant, but preferred not to remember what had almost cost Meg her life. “They look like a lot of self-indulgent, pampered not all that happy people to me, whose legacy is the vampire story our host entertained us with last night,” she told Meg.

  “Then you don’t believe in any of it?”

  “I won’t say that. I learned to suspend my disbelief quite recently as you may recall.”

  “I’m glad you learned your lesson....” Meg began, then stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the portrait in front of her.

  It was a Highlander, staring arrogantly at the viewer with shadowed gray eyes and a smile that was both mocking and so-o-o very sensual. His black hair was long, brushing the top of his billowy saffron colored shirt. His muscular legs were bare below his kilt and the plaid he wore over his shoulder was a simple design secured with the same silver and amethyst brooch they had seen Seth wear at dinner. He sat astride a restless black stallion whose mane and tail were feathered by the wind. In the background, Blood Castle loomed on its dark crag with stark, gray foreboding.

  Meg was only able to utter one heartfelt “Wow!”

  Charlie couldn’t have said it better. He was a “wow” and then some. “I wonder who he is? The date is 1469. The artist is exceptional. This should be in a museum somewhere!”

  “It belongs right here!” Meg said. “This is his home, or rather the castle must have been his home, since this house hadn’t been built yet. And look over there. There’s another fine portrait by the same artist, if I don’t miss my guess. No stiff formal poses like the others. These two practically breathe!”

  Charlie studied the portrait of a young girl sitting against a tree with a small white dog in her lap. She was very beautiful with honey blonde hair and an ethereal quality the artist had managed to capture. She seemed to have one foot in another world.