Verbena, quite into the spirit of things after her evening drinking ale with vampires at the Silver Chalice, approached the servants' door in an attempt to learn what she could about the household schedule and layout. Victoria wasn't sure how she managed to extract the information, but she learned that the servants were leaving with Rudolph Caulfield that afternoon, and that the gentleman coming to stay at the home would be bringing his own retinue.
And, as Victoria slipped behind a tall iron gate, she was grateful that Verbena had also learned that the garden was very rarely used… and thus would be the perfect place to wait.
Finding a stone bench thrust under a small tree that had refused to sprout buds that spring, Victoria sat and slid to the edge so she could watch the house. From this vantage point she could see anyone approaching the front door. She assumed that Mr. Caulfield and his servants had left and been replaced by his houseguest during the afternoon.
As she sat, trying to ignore a persistent bee that was determined to find nectar in the vicinity of the dead tree, Victoria felt a stab of guilt. She had argued long and hard with herself and with Verbena about whether to tell Aunt Eustacia and Max about her plans for the evening… but in the end she had decided not to. She could take care of herself—Kritanu had trained her well. She knew what she was doing.
So she'd decided to do this alone, for several perfectly logical reasons.
First, if Sebastian's information was wrong, she would feel foolish having dragged Max to the site of Redfield Manor; for it was certain he would have been the one to accompany her, not Aunt Eustacia.
Not to mention the fact that she would have to be in his company the entire evening.
Second, Victoria was certain she would be able to handle two or three vampires alone—particularly since the element of surprise would be in her favor. She could determine when and how to strike.
Third, she had braved the dangers of the Silver Chalice on her own to get the information, and Sebastian had warned her not to tell anyone. If she had told Aunt Eustacia and Max, they would have demanded that she divulge her source. Once she had the Book of Antwartha in her possession, no one would care how she got the information.
And fourth… Max and Aunt Eustacia all seemed to be willing to keep their own secrets from her. So why should she not act on her own if they were not going to include her in all of their plans? After all, she was a vis bullaed Venator, and she had staked a Guardian vampire whilst he was biting her.
Never mind Verbena's clicking tongue or wagging chin. Victoria was comfortable with her decision.
So she waited and turned her thoughts toward more pleasant items, such as the passionate kisses she and Phillip had exchanged on the terrace, and in the carriage, and on the front doorstep of Grantworth House. She was to be married! She could scarcely believe it had happened so quickly, so easily and wonderfully. She'd always thought fondly of the young man she'd met that summer; perhaps even then she'd given him her heart. Whatever had happened then, whether she had felt love for him or not, did not matter, for she loved him now.
The sun seemed to move infinitesimally slowly toward the ring of trees that edged the street. Victoria watched, noticing each person as he or she walked by, knowing that she would recognize the vampires when they approached.
Suddenly her attention was caught by a movement at the corner of her eye… from the back of the garden. Victoria held her breath and shrank more closely into the shrubbery surrounding her bench, slipping quickly to a crouch on the ground.
The backyard was shaded in this late afternoon, and would soon be dark, so the shadow that eased from a crack in the stone wall was at first indiscernible. It moved with speed and grace, and as it drew closer to the back of the house and became recognizable, Victoria's mouth dropped open from behind a boxwood.
Max.
There was no mistaking his height and spare, measured movements as he made his way toward a set of wooden cellar doors.
A bolt of fury shafted through her, and Victoria slammed her teeth together so hard a crack of pain shot through her jaw. She was surprised he didn't hear the loud snap; and she was glad he didn't.
What was he doing here?
Not looking for her; he would easily have found her if he'd cared to look.
Somehow he must have learned about the book, that it was here and that the owner was gone.
In the moment that the blankness of shock and the red haze of anger burst over her, Victoria had missed his next move. When she refocused her attention toward the house, toward where Max had been approaching the wooden doors, he was gone.
Had he gone in?
Or had he found another hiding place, as she had, and would also lie in wait for the vampires?
He was a blasted fool if he thought she was going to wait here by herself.
Victoria eased from her hiding place, gratified that, although the sun hadn't set completely, the shadows were long enough in this garden that they afforded her a protective cover as she hurried along in Max's path.
As she approached the building, one of her questions, at least, was answered when she saw a tall, unmistakable figure pass in front of a window at the back of the house. Max was inside, in the servants' quarters, if one were to judge by the size and placement of the window.
Did he think to snatch the book from under the vampires' noses? Before they had the opportunity—
Oh, God. Max was going to take the book himself! If he touched it before it was out of the house, he would die!
Victoria launched herself from her shield of bushes before she realized that she couldn't go haring into the house willy-nilly.