and he settled for his secondary target.
After a couple of hours of following Ross around Manhattan, O’Grady finally surrendered to the inevitable and gave up. Even so, Ross waited another hour until he was sure the reporter had called it quits before he caught the train to Long Island.
The Bridgehampton railroad station was well-lit and relatively clean, reflecting the money and taste of the local residents. Nevertheless, Ross had advised Gillian and Toby to wait for him at one of the local hotels, where he found them eating supper in the attached restaurant. He tipped the hotel’s concierge to call a taxi, which carried them the three miles to Oak Hollow.
The wrought-iron gates at the entrance to the estate were locked, but Ross knew where Griffin kept a spare key under a rock nearby. He opened the gates and waved the taxi through, following on foot. The cobbled, tree-lined road led up to a carriage circle in front of the columned entrance of a Georgianstyle manor house, where the cabbie let Gillian and Toby off.
It was obvious right away that someone had been keeping up the place in Griffin’s and Allie’s absence. The lawn was cut, the hedges neatly trimmed and the flower beds to either side of the porch filled with new plantings. Gillian stood gazing at the portico. Whatever she thought of the place didn’t show on her face, but Toby had his own opinions.
“It’s not nearly as big as Snowfell,” he pronounced, “but it looks much nicer.”
“What’s not nice about Snowfell?” Ross asked, unlocking the front door.
“Oh, I don’t know. It was built in the sixteenth century, but most of it burnt down, and then they rebuilt it, and then it burnt down again, so my great-grandfather had it rebuilt. Some of the old parts are still standing. It ended up a patchwork, not very pretty.” He sniffed. “There must be lots of servants here.”
“Only two, as far as I know.”
“Two!” Toby whistled, earning a reproving glance from Gillian. Ross ushered them ahead of him into the cool central hall. Immediately Gillian stopped, wrapping her arms around her chest.
She might have sensed it, of course. Even though she hadn’t recognized Ross as a werewolf when they’d first met, she might be able to smell a full-blooded one.
“There’s something I didn’t tell you,” Ross said, coming up beside her. “Griffin Durant is a werewolf, and he’s married to a vampire.”
Gillian stared at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“I never met a vampire in Europe, so I don’t know how you feel about them over there. But Allie’s all right. She—”
“A real vampire?” Toby interrupted, the final syllable rising into a squeak. “Are we going to meet her?”
“Like I said, they’re out of town.” He met Gillian’s gaze. “All you need to know is that you’d be welcome here.”
“I see.”
Ross was pretty sure she didn’t see at all. She was probably horrified at the idea of a vampire-werewolf marriage, but was too polite to show it. Of course, Ross had been skeptical himself until he’d seen with his own eyes just how well such an improbable union could turn out.
But Gillian wasn’t in any state to listen to him explain what she probably didn’t want to hear anyway. He started up the stairs. “I’ll show you some spare bedrooms you can use,” he said. “Once you’ve rested, we can telephone your brother.”
Gillian uncrossed her arms and seemed to relax a little. “Thank you.”
Ross was beginning to get sick of those two words. Without replying, he showed Gillian and Toby the guest bedrooms. When he and Gillian were alone in the room Gillian had chosen, he decided to say what he’d been thinking ever since they’d left Coney Island.
“You did good, Mrs. Delvaux,” he said, lingering in the doorway. “Helping that kid…it might not have seemed like much to you, but I’m sure his mother appreciated it.”
She stood beside the four-poster, as self-conscious as he’d ever seen her. “Anyone could have done it,” she said curtly.
He shook his head. “Most people would have made it worse.” He ran his fingers along the doorjamb. “I’d almost forgotten how capable you were at the hospital, how well you looked after the patients. You were the best nurse there. Better than the ones who had a lot more training than you did.”
“There was nothing exceptional about my work. Others did far more.”
“We’ll have to agree to disagree on that subject.” He laughed briefly. “Among others.”
All too aware that he was standing on the edge of a precipice, Ross retreated. He was halfway down the stairs when the front door swept open and Allegra Durant stepped into the hall.
“Ross!” she exclaimed, dropping her suitcase on the paneled wooden floor. “What are you doing here?”
As had happened more than once, Ross was momentarily at a loss for words. Allie had that effect on a lot of men, regardless of ancestry. She wore only a slightly more conservative dress than she had in her bachelor girl days, one that didn’t quite reveal her knees, and her aqua eyes sparkled.
But Ross was seeing another woman in her place, a woman with golden hair and grave hazel eyes.
“Okay,” Allie said, walking farther into the foyer. “Something’s up, I can tell. Don’t tell me someone’s been murdered on Long Island. It’s such a boring—”
She broke off, her gaze flying up the staircase. Ross turned. Gillian was poised on the landing, her features registering astonishment before she brought them under control.
“Well, well,” Allie said, grinning. “Now I’ve seen everything. How many girls have you brought out here, Kavanagh? Or is she the first?”
CHAPTER SIX
GILLIAN FROZE at the other woman’s question. She had already taken in the short dress, the bobbed hair and the bright red lipstick that identified Allie as one of the flappers who seemed so common in London. The two women stared at each other, and Gillian felt a stirring of instinctive hostility.
Ross was quick to fill the silence. “I’ve never brought anyone here before,” he said, a little stiffly. “I didn’t know you were coming back.”
“We didn’t, either.” Allie’s gaze returned to Gillian. “Any friend of yours is welcome here.” Abruptly she started for the staircase, nearly running up the steps until she was standing just below Gillian. “Sorry about the quip. I didn’t mean to be rude.” She thrust out her hand. “Allie Durant.”
Gillian’s training overcame her aversion. She took the proffered hand. “Gillian Delvaux,” she said. The sound of rapid footsteps warned her that Toby had heard the voices and come to join them. “This is my son, Tobias.”
Toby careened to a halt at Gillian’s side, remembered his manners and gave a little bow. “How do you do, Mrs. Durant?” he said. “Are you the vampire?”
Allie burst into laughter. “I see that
