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out.”
    “No, sir.”
    “One, two.”
    “You’re a heinous swine. A woman screamed in that castle. What did you do to her?”
    “Three, four.” He crossed his arms over his chest in an attitude of complete boredom, though his mouth was hard and his narrowed eyes never left the two women.
    “I won’t marry you and I won’t lie with you, you monster,”
    Evangeline said with less determination than the housekeeper. “I despise you.”
    “Five!”
    Held tightly as she was by Mrs. Brackett, Raven was able with no trouble whatever to break the stout woman’s strong grip and drag Evangeline toward the door where he took her by the waist lifting her out. Tossing the light bundle over his shoulder, he walked up the castle steps as she pounded on his back with her small fists.
    “I hope you’re not expecting me to carry the other one, my lord,”
    Hodder said doubtfully.
    “There’s no need. Where this one goes, she will follow.” A moment later Mrs. Brackett struggled out of the carriage, her hat askew, umbrella waving, following Raven up the steps into the castle.
    Inside, he told the footman, “Bolt the doors, bolt every door in the castle.” He looked at Munk, who stood over six feet tall. “You can reach the top bolts, Munk.”
    “Put that young lady down, you werewolf.” Mrs. Brackett came up behind Raven and was about to thump him with her fist.
    When he turned his steady gaze on her she thought better of it. “I Sanguinarian 37
    am not a werewolf, madam.”
    “Vampire, then, or goblin, evildoer of some sort. Whatever you are, you’re not a man, I know that much, not an ordinary man anyway. My God, you’re just like Miss Evie said, big and scary-looking with horrible eyes. I didn’t believe the poor little mite when she said you crept upon her twice, but now I see you’re capable of anything.”
    Raven set Evangeline on her feet, holding her upper arms to steady her. “You said that about me?” His voice was quiet, but not gentle. “That I have horrible eyes, that I scare you?”
    “Yes,” she whispered, staring up at him, her blue eyes wide.
    “There was a scream,” Mrs. Brackett declared. “A woman screamed just now. What’s going on in this place?” She looked first at Raven and then behind him at his staff gathered in silence waiting for orders—the footman, a handsome young man with a somber expression, and three maids all in dark dresses with white caps and aprons. Every one of them was silent, stiff-faced, tall and pale. “What you heard, madam, was the wind whipping about the turrets. It sometimes sounds like a scream, but I assure you it was not.” Raven looked down at the big, bulky woman, wondering if he should dismiss her at once. She’d be nothing but trouble.
    “He said it was seagulls.” She nodded at Hodder. “Didn’t you?”
    “I did, Mrs. Brackett, but I wasn’t thinking,” Hodder stated. “The wind wuthers something awful ’round them turrets, just like his lordship said.”
    “It was a scream, wasn’t it, Miss Evie?” The woman turned to her young mistress.
    “It sounded like a scream to me,” Evangeline confirmed. “You have made me scream several times.”
    “But no harm came to you, did it? No real harm,” he asked.
    The bank manager had remarked that Miss Rutledge was pretty, and Raven saw now that he was right—though he was not sure he liked pretty women. She was the antithesis of him and he found he 38
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    appreciated the contrast. Small, very slender and fair with blue eyes, she looked up at him nervously.
    An overwhelming urge to see trust in her eyes enveloped him, leaving him confused for a brief moment. It was a strange and unfamiliar feeling. “Ahh, sweet child,” he whispered, succumbing to a moment of tenderness. “Don’t be afraid of me. I won’t harm you, but neither will I suffer screams and tantrums and disobedience. Go to your chamber now and rest. You must be tired after such a long day.
    Are you tired?”
    She