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Benedict
The Black Cat had warned him that something distasteful was in Mariah’s presence. When he’d gone to investigate, he was surprised to see Mariah confronting a man. He had caught the beginning of their conversation, and as he listened, he grew angry. How dare this guy cheat on Mariah and then claim to be entitled to live with her? Benedict observed, horrified at the lack of empathy or regret on the idiot’s behalf. The outraged finally hit when Tom demanded to move in!
His disbelieving ears completely affronted his sense of honour as the fool kept babbling and ignoring what Mariah was saying. When she first shrieked for him, he was still shocked at the drivel pouring from the fool’s lips. Benedict swooped into action at Mariah’s second shriek and the bald allegation of her cheating on someone she had removed from her life.
He’d had tremendous fun terrifying the little pipsqueak. No man worth his weight would mistreat a woman. And the fact that this guy had broken Mariah’s heart, and with her cousin, no less, well, Benedict had a lesson to teach. Such vile and disgusting behaviour had no part in Benedict’s world, and he wouldn’t allow it in Mariah’s.
Once he was done, Benedict had been frightened when he saw Mariah sobbing until he understood they were tears of laughter. Full of pride at his actions of defending her, Benedict idly noted the little glow in his heart.
Chapter Nine.
Mariah
Mariah stared stunned out of the window in her bedroom that faced the river. There, tied up, was a canal boat, and her eyes narrowed as she saw the man lounging in a chair beside it. Did that idiot believe intimidation tactics would work? Klaus Anderson was a complete tool. He could sit there as much as he wished. She wasn’t selling her inn to him! If Benedict hadn’t chased her off, then he had no chance. There was a knock at the side door, and she dashed downstairs to find the parcels she’d ordered had arrived. She dragged them into the kitchen and began cooking breakfast.
Benedict entered moments later, and she caught him checking her over.
“Are you alright?” Benedict asked softly.
“I’m okay. You disappeared last night, so I couldn’t thank you properly. But I noticed you ate the dinner I left you,” Mariah replied grumpily.
“Yes, sorry. I went to check on Vemis, make sure all the upheaval hadn’t disturbed him. It gave me time to think. I dislike your former urm… friend?” Benedict said, unsure what word to use.
“Boyfriend and complete tool.”
“Tool?” Benedict asked as Mariah flipped pancakes.
“It means dull and not bright. They are a foolish idiot and brag themselves up when, in reality, they are nothing. Do you like pancakes?”
“Yes, please. Why are you cooking for me?” Benedict sought, confused.
Mariah had made him a few meals, but he was unsure why. Mariah smiled at the confusion on his face.
“Yesterday was the first time someone defended me in ages. This is a thank you. Anyway, how come you eat?”
“Ah,” Benedict said, sitting down. “My body turns food into energy. It’s a side effect of being in transition. Full vampires can do the same. There is no need to drink blood except it gives you strength much quicker.”
“Oh,” Mariah replied and returned to flipping a pancake.
“Mariah, what is all this?” Benedict inquired, peering at the multitude of parcels.
“They’re for you. Open them!” Mariah said with a smile. She hoped they’d fit. She’d measured his clothes carefully and bought as close a match as possible. Mariah watched as Benedict opened the first and saw a pack of the shirts he favoured. His eyebrows rose as he placed them on the table and unwrapped the next and found several waistcoats.
“What is this?” he asked, scratching his chin.
“An apology. And please tell me they fit because you’re rather garish to look at. I was assured they are all genuine cuts and designs from your era, so please change while I dish up the food!” Mariah teased as Benedict looked strangely touched.
“You didn’t have to replace my clothing. I could have done that,” he said softly.
“Well, I’m sure you’ll want more. But get dressed. The colours hurt my eyes!” Mariah laughed.
“You chose them!” Benedict retorted with a grin. But he disappeared and took the parcels with him. When he reappeared, Mariah offered him a smile as she placed a plate of pancakes and a coffee in front of him. He wore tanned breeches that clung to his muscular thighs, his snowy white shirt stood out against the black and a gold waistcoat and coat. His cravat was tied in a fanciful style, and he wore knee-high riding boots.
“They fit,” Mariah said, sitting opposite him.
“Very well indeed. I must ask you for the tailor. How did you find such clothing?” Benedict sought.
“It took some searching, and I asked Melisandre, and she pointed me towards the one the Rakehell men use. The gentleman seems to keep a good stock, and you’re a similar build to Nicholas.”
