It all made perfect sense. The bird was quoting a man who had lost paradise on earth to another who had lost his marbles in the Frankensteins’ Blue Salon. Abruptly Ian took his leave. Poe remained locked in mortal combat with the stuffed raven.
Lady Mary intercepted him scant moments later, remarking upon her niece. “Clair should be down soon. She is helping Lady Abby dress. Lady Abby is Clair’s great-aunt.”
“I look forward to enjoying Miss Frankenstein’s company. Her recent studies have quite captured my attention.”
“Yes, when one is part of the study, it tends to capture one’s fancies.” Lady Mary winked at him.
“So you knew of Miss Frankenstein’s suspicions?”
“There’s not much that gets past me. I’ve known what Clair was working upon for quite some time. Not to mention that I attended the tarot card reading. It was all most frightening, a truly remarkable event.” Lady Mary tapped her fan thoughtfully against her chin. “Such a shame, in a sense. Clair was so sure you were one of those undead things. It would have made her day if you had been the leader the of the pack.”
“It could have made her dead,” Ian argued sternly. “As her aunt, don’t you feel a need to stop this particular road of inquiry?”
Mary patted his arm. “Dear boy, trying to stop Clair is like trying to halt a particularly nasty electrical storm.”
Ian frowned. He really wanted to dislike the round little woman, but he couldn’t. Her warmth was infectious. Damn, just like her niece.
“You Frankensteins are obsessed with those storms. Using them in your experiments, likening yourselves to… But being electric and unpredictable doesn’t keep Clair safe.”
Lady Mary smiled slyly. Her Plan A, To Catch a Baron, was falling marvelously into place. She almost felt like a master thief at the ease with which she had so far maneuvered the handsome baron. It was like taking candy from a mere babe. “You’re worried about my niece.”
“Yes. Miss Frankenstein should be attending balls, not hunting vampires. She should be painting watercolors or embroidering like other young ladies of her class, not running around at all hours of the night peeping into coffins.”
Lady Mary seemed to ponder for a moment. “Clair is a cerebral being, often living only in her mind. And you know what they say, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” She stopped, her brow wrinkling. “Although, if anyone could do it, Victor could.” Seeing Ian’s strange expression, Lady Mary patted his arm. “I digress. You are worried about my niece. I can say honestly that most of her studies into the otherworldly have been fairly harmless—like those pigs in the cemetery or the devil in the belfry.”
“Devil!” His heart froze. Devils were such hotheaded little creatures with nasty tempers, always sticking their little pitchforks here and there. Ian had often thought their temperaments were probably a result of the ugly little horns on their head poking into their brains, along with spending much of their lives breathing sulfur and brimstone. That would tend to make anyone a trifle testy.
Lady Mary pooh-poohed him. “Stop looking like you’re going to bite me, my lord. It was merely a case of mistaken identity. This devil was only an alias for the old vicar of Scratch Parish. He was a bit touched in the head, you know.”
Ian wanted to ask if the old vicar was a family relation. “I see. Another case of mistaken identity,” he said instead. “There seems to be a bit of that going around.”
“Well, one could see it like that.”
“Yes, one could. However, we were speaking of Clair and her new, very dangerous studies. I can say, with all due respect, that Clair is no match for a vampire.”
Lady Mary only smiled more brightly. She would wear her blue velvet ostrich-feathered hat with the pearl inlays to the wedding.
“You don’t seem frightened for her in the least,” Ian objected.
“Of course not,
Lady Mary intercepted him scant moments later, remarking upon her niece. “Clair should be down soon. She is helping Lady Abby dress. Lady Abby is Clair’s great-aunt.”
“I look forward to enjoying Miss Frankenstein’s company. Her recent studies have quite captured my attention.”
“Yes, when one is part of the study, it tends to capture one’s fancies.” Lady Mary winked at him.
“So you knew of Miss Frankenstein’s suspicions?”
“There’s not much that gets past me. I’ve known what Clair was working upon for quite some time. Not to mention that I attended the tarot card reading. It was all most frightening, a truly remarkable event.” Lady Mary tapped her fan thoughtfully against her chin. “Such a shame, in a sense. Clair was so sure you were one of those undead things. It would have made her day if you had been the leader the of the pack.”
“It could have made her dead,” Ian argued sternly. “As her aunt, don’t you feel a need to stop this particular road of inquiry?”
Mary patted his arm. “Dear boy, trying to stop Clair is like trying to halt a particularly nasty electrical storm.”
Ian frowned. He really wanted to dislike the round little woman, but he couldn’t. Her warmth was infectious. Damn, just like her niece.
“You Frankensteins are obsessed with those storms. Using them in your experiments, likening yourselves to… But being electric and unpredictable doesn’t keep Clair safe.”
Lady Mary smiled slyly. Her Plan A, To Catch a Baron, was falling marvelously into place. She almost felt like a master thief at the ease with which she had so far maneuvered the handsome baron. It was like taking candy from a mere babe. “You’re worried about my niece.”
“Yes. Miss Frankenstein should be attending balls, not hunting vampires. She should be painting watercolors or embroidering like other young ladies of her class, not running around at all hours of the night peeping into coffins.”
Lady Mary seemed to ponder for a moment. “Clair is a cerebral being, often living only in her mind. And you know what they say, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear.” She stopped, her brow wrinkling. “Although, if anyone could do it, Victor could.” Seeing Ian’s strange expression, Lady Mary patted his arm. “I digress. You are worried about my niece. I can say honestly that most of her studies into the otherworldly have been fairly harmless—like those pigs in the cemetery or the devil in the belfry.”
“Devil!” His heart froze. Devils were such hotheaded little creatures with nasty tempers, always sticking their little pitchforks here and there. Ian had often thought their temperaments were probably a result of the ugly little horns on their head poking into their brains, along with spending much of their lives breathing sulfur and brimstone. That would tend to make anyone a trifle testy.
Lady Mary pooh-poohed him. “Stop looking like you’re going to bite me, my lord. It was merely a case of mistaken identity. This devil was only an alias for the old vicar of Scratch Parish. He was a bit touched in the head, you know.”
Ian wanted to ask if the old vicar was a family relation. “I see. Another case of mistaken identity,” he said instead. “There seems to be a bit of that going around.”
“Well, one could see it like that.”
“Yes, one could. However, we were speaking of Clair and her new, very dangerous studies. I can say, with all due respect, that Clair is no match for a vampire.”
Lady Mary only smiled more brightly. She would wear her blue velvet ostrich-feathered hat with the pearl inlays to the wedding.
“You don’t seem frightened for her in the least,” Ian objected.
“Of course not,
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