To Walk in the Sun (Wiggons' School for Elegant Young Ladies - Book 1) Read Free

the
rumors ? “Yes, rich, red, healthy blood.” He grinned down at her
but resisted the temptation to lick his lips. She was frightened
enough.
    Miss Crawford blanched further. “Will I need
stitches?”
    Vincent threw back his head and laughed. “Is
that what has you frightened?”
    “I can’t stand the needle. When one comes at
me, I faint dead away.”
    Something solid crashed against the side of
the crypt and Vincent looked out. A tombstone had fallen over. The
storm was getting worse. He put her back against the wall and
curled his body around her as best as he could.
    “I’ve never seen a storm such as this,” she
mumbled.
    “Not many witness a tempest.”
    “Tornados don’t happen in the fall, or in
Cornwall, or at night.”
    Another large, heavy object crashed against
the crypt. A shrill, eerie whistle pierced the whirling winds,
sending a shiver of dread down his spine.
    It is here .
    He pulled her close as the worst of the storm
hit the old cemetery.
     
    * * *
     
    Tess clung to Lord Atwood as the noise grew
louder, and the air pressure grew so heavy she wasn’t sure she
could take a breath. She was going to die. Tonight. In a crypt,
with a rumored vampire.
    If the situation weren’t so dire, she would
laugh. Instead, all she could do was cling to his solid torso and
try to breathe.
    Could this be a tornado? She had only heard
of them before and never experienced one. She hadn’t believed him
at first, but there was no other explanation of what else it could
be.
    Slowly, the pressure began to diminish and
she no longer had to fight for breath. Crashes became distant as
the storm moved on.
    Lord Atwood sat up. “You can let go of me
now. It has passed.”
    Heat spread across her face. Tess let her
arms drop and pulled away from his chest. Her arms were sore. How
hard had she held onto him? This was most embarrassing.
    “You’re still bleeding.” He took the
handkerchief from her hand and pressed it against her head once
again.
    “Is it over?” She searched his gaze for the
truth.
    Lord Atwood glanced at the door. “I believe
so. However, we should wait a few more minutes, just to be
sure.”
    She looked out the opening. Rain came down
with such force she could not see beyond the entrance. Thank
goodness Lord Atwood had been out tonight for surely she would have
died had he not rescued her.
    The sheets of water continued and a puddle
pooled just inside the door. She relaxed against the cold, damp
stone wall, hoping the water would not reach them for she had no
desire to climb onto a sarcophagus in order to remain dry.
    Lord Atwood settled beside her. “How is your
head?”
    “Sore.”
    “Do you have a headache?”
    She hadn’t thought about it. Too much had
happened for her to notice any discomfort, other than the stiffness
of her arms earlier. The more she calmed, the more she became aware
of the various aches in her body. It seemed like everything hurt,
especially her head. She nodded in acknowledgement.
    Lord Atwood cursed under his breath and
searched the room. He returned with an old lamp, which still
contained oil and set it on the floor beside them. Tess wondered
how much use the lamp would be as there was no means to light it.
He then reached into the pocket of his great coat and withdrew a
battered tin. “I carried this with me on the continent and it
hasn’t failed me yet.” He withdrew the steel and flint and soon had
the lamp lit.
    Tess wondered what else he had in those deep
pockets, but didn’t ask.
    Though he kept the light far away from
himself, he put it close to her eyes and studied them. After a
moment he set the lamp aside. “You should be fine.”
    Tess was not sure what to make of his odd
behavior and decided not to question him. After a good night’s
sleep, of course she would be fine.
    “What possessed you to come out on a night
like this?” he demanded after a short time.
    “I might ask you the same question,” Tess
retorted. How dare he take that tone with