Born to Bite (6 page)

Wanting to distract Mrs. Ramsey from the topic of her eyes, Eshe sought her mind as she settled at the table, and then asked the first question she could come up with. “How long have you worked for Armand?”

“About five years now,” Mrs. Ramsey answered, retrieving a coffee cup from the cupboard and moving to a still-working coffeepot beside the refrigerator. As she waited for the last of the coffee to run through the drip filter, she offered, “That’s when he inherited the farm from his uncle. It was nice when he did. His uncle was never out here. He had a manager run it while he lived in the city and took in the profits. It’s much nicer knowing the owner and having them in your community.”

Eshe nodded solemnly even though she knew that everything the woman had said was simply a cover story for Armand. He actually owned several farms in southern Ontario and rotated his time among them, spending ten years at one and then moving to another before his neighbors noticed that he wasn’t aging. Each time he moved, the cover story was that he had inherited the farm he took over, but there was no uncle for him to inherit from. She had no idea what excuse was given to the old farm community to explain his leaving. Perhaps he let them think he died, or simply said he was moving to the city and leaving a manager to run it.

“He’s a nice young man,” Mrs. Ramsey informed her. “Always polite and very good about my switching days if I have an appointment on a day I’m supposed to come in. I only come out to the house on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, you see.”

Eshe made an encouraging sound to keep her talking.

“I do worry about him, though. I’m not sure his inheriting the farm was that good for him, really. He works very hard, rarely leaves the farm, and has no social life to speak of. I worry he’ll just stay out here and grow old on the farm, never having had the experience of a wife and children.” Mrs. Ramsey heaved a sigh as she poured the now-finished coffee into the cup. She perked up, though, as she added, “Still, he’s young, and now you’re here maybe you can get him to bring himself out a bit more. We have bingo at the church on Wednesday nights, and the diner serves a good meal. All the locals meet there. And now that the harvest is over, there are a couple of fall fairs coming up if you’re still here and can drag him to them. I know the locals would enjoy getting to interact with him more.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Eshe said as the woman crossed the room to set a coffee cup before her.

“Good.” Mrs. Ramsey beamed at her and then turned away to retrieve a frying pan as well as the bacon and eggs to start cooking. Eshe watched her for a moment, unsure whether she should tell her not to cook for her or not. She certainly wasn’t going to eat the food. On the other hand, the woman seemed to be enjoying making it for her. In fact, judging from her present thoughts, Eshe suspected Mrs. Ramsey would be disappointed if she didn’t let her do it. She could always dump the food when the woman wasn’t looking, Eshe decided. Besides, Mrs. Ramsey was incredibly chatty and there might be something useful she could learn from her.

“So, Armand doesn’t have any company at the house?” Eshe asked curiously, leaning forward to sniff at the black liquid steaming in the cup before her. It had a rather interesting scent, a bit bitter perhaps, but aromatic.

“Just Agnes and John Maunsell. They have a farm not far from here and I gather they’re his sister-in-law and brother-in-law,” Mrs. Ramsey confided, and then clucked her tongue. “He must have been married very young. He was already widowed when he moved here and can’t be more than twenty-six or -seven. At least he doesn’t look any older than that.”

Eshe murmured a sound of agreement, her curious gaze on the food Mrs. Ramsey was frying up. The bacon was smelling surprisingly delicious as it cooked.

“Oh, there’s your toast.” Mrs. Ramsey bustled over to the toaster as the toasted bread popped into view. She quickly shifted the slices to a small plate and buttered them, then grabbed a couple of jars of what appeared to be preserves and brought them to Eshe. “Here you are, dear. You start on that while I finish up your bacon and eggs.”

“Thank you,” Eshe murmured, peering down at the offerings.

“That one is marmalade, and this is strawberry jam,” Mrs. Ramsey announced, pushing the jars toward her. “I make them myself at home and bring them for Mr. Argeneau. Though, truth to tell, I don’t think he has even tried them. I thought he was eating them at first because the jars kept disappearing, so I kept bringing him more, but then I found a whole box full of them in the basement.” She heaved a disappointed sigh, shook her head, and bustled back to the stove. “You give them a try, though, and see what you think. Everyone else raves about them.”

Eshe glanced up to see her watching expectantly and reluctantly opened the jar of orange marmalade and began to spread some on her toast. She could have just controlled the woman and made her think she’d tried it, but was actually a little curious to see what it tasted like. Eshe hadn’t been curious about food in a couple of centuries now, but decided not to think about that and what her sudden interest might mean. She had other matters to deal with.

“So, he only has Agnes and John over?” she asked as she replaced the lid on the marmalade.

“Yes.” Mrs. Ramsey wrinkled her nose. “Agnes is a sweet little thing, but I just haven’t found myself warming to John. I’m not sure why.” She shrugged and then gestured toward Eshe’s as yet untried toast with the fork she’d been using to turn the bacon and said, “Give it a try, then, and tell me what you think.”

Eshe picked up the slice of toast she’d spread marmalade on and took a bite, surprised at the burst of flavor that hit her tongue.

“It is really very good,” she told the woman honestly.

Mrs. Ramsey flushed with pleasure at the compliment and chuckled. “You sound surprised. Does it look to you like I might be a bad cook?” she teased, gesturing to her robust figure.

Eshe smiled faintly, and took another bite of the toast before asking, “Does Armand ever talk about his wives?”

“Wives?” she asked with a start.

“I meant wife,” Eshe corrected herself quickly.

“Oh.” She relaxed and smiled wryly as she turned back to her cooking. “No. I think it must be a painful subject. I only know he was married because Agnes introduced herself as his sister-in-law the first time we met.”

“I see,” Eshe murmured, taking another bite of toast as she acknowledged that she wasn’t going to learn anything about the past from this woman. Not that she’d really expected to. The woman was mortal, after all. But there had always been the chance that Armand had let something slip. Then too, Mrs. Ramsey had worked for Armand for five years by her own reckoning, and it wasn’t unusual for long-term servants or employees to be let in on the secret of their immortality. However, it seemed obvious Mrs. Ramsey wasn’t in that rank. Eshe supposed it was because the woman was only at the house three days a week and usually while he was sleeping, if he slept during the day and worked nights as the woman had suggested. There was less chance of her accidentally discovering his secret with such minimal contact.

“Ah, you’re up.”

Eshe glanced around at that comment to see Armand entering the kitchen. He looked even more exhausted than she felt. Though, to be honest, the toast and just the smell of coffee had perked her up a bit. Now she watched him walk toward the table where she sat and inhaled the scent of him as he drew near. He smelled of earth and spice and male. It was a heady combination on him, and Eshe swallowed and forced her eyes away from him when they tried to dip down over his body to examine it in the tight jeans and T-shirt he wore.

“Oh, Armand.” Mrs. Ramsey smiled at him cheerfully and then made a sad moue before saying, “Yes, she’s awake. I’m afraid I woke her up with my vacuuming.”

Knowing she wasn’t really sorry at all, but was very pleased to have gotten the chance to talk to her and gather more gossip, Eshe quickly stuffed a piece of toast into her mouth to keep from snorting. The shock on Armand’s face when she did so made her wish she hadn’t, however. Quickly chewing and swallowing, she explained, “Your lovely housekeeper insisted on cooking breakfast for me, late in the day though it is.”

“And I’ve made enough bacon for the two of you just in case you came back in, so sit yourself down and I’ll just put in a couple more eggs,” Mrs. Ramsey ordered, sounding rather like a bossy mother or grandmother.

Armand took it in his stride and merely quirked his lips with amusement as he took the seat across from Eshe. His gaze, however, slid from her to the toast she’d already half eaten and back again with speculation.

“Here’s a coffee for you, Armand.” Mrs. Ramsey set a cup before him and then glanced at Eshe’s untouched mug and clucked with self-disgust. “I suppose you take cream and sugar in it and I didn’t even think to offer you any.”

Shaking her head, she bustled away to collect the items and then returned to first pour some milk in both cups and then drop a couple of square cubes of sugar in each cup as well before handing over a spoon to each of them and hurrying back to her work.

Eshe glanced at Armand, shrugged, and stirred the coffee as she assumed she was meant to do. Armand immediately began to stir his own. They both then set the spoons down on the table and hesitated, glancing at each other.

Eshe didn’t know what he was thinking, but she was wondering like crazy if he would actually drink it. Or if she would, for that matter. While she’d been curious about the toast, and would admit she was curious about the coffee, she never ate or drank.

That sounded foolish even in her own head, Eshe acknowledged with a sigh. She might have been able to say she never ate or drank before she’d come down to the kitchen this morning, but she had now eaten a piece of toast with butter and marmalade on it and quite enjoyed the experience. It seemed obvious there was more to her not being able to read Armand than that he was hard to read. She had eaten and enjoyed the toast, was eager to try the bacon that smelled so delicious, and was even curious to try the coffee. The problem was she wasn’t sure it would be a good thing to let Armand know that. Right now she might be able to get away with claiming she’d eaten the toast only to please Mrs. Ramsey, but…

She peered at Armand silently. In her experience, the best way to catch rogues was to sneak up on them, or rattle them. Sneaking up on them was, of course, the easiest route, but when that wasn’t possible, rattling them could set them off their stride and make them vulnerable to attack. Perhaps rattling Armand would work for her in this case, she thought, and letting him know she was showing all the signs of an immortal having met her life mate should certainly do that. It was rattling the hell out of her, after all, Eshe thought grimly, and stared at him silently as she picked up the coffee and raised it to her lips.

Armand’s eyes widened, his eyebrows rose upward on his forehead, and his hand clenched around the cup he held as he watched her drink.

“Mmm,” Eshe murmured in a voice so low Mrs. Ramsey couldn’t possibly hear it, but Armand with his immortal hearing would. “I know they say the caffeine isn’t good for us, but that tastes as delicious now as anything I partook of while with my first life mate, Orion.”

Armand sucked in a gasp of air, his face paling briefly, and then sat back with a start as Mrs. Ramsey set two plates between them.

“Here you go. You two eat that up and I’ll clean up the mess I’ve made in here.”

Eshe murmured a thank-you, still watching Armand, and then picked up her fork and began to eat watching him watch her. It was a strangely erotic few moments. His eyes were locked on her lips, watching her slide the food into her mouth, his tongue slipping out to lick his lips as she chewed, and his own throat working as she swallowed.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked huskily after the third bite when he simply continued to watch her. Picking up a half piece of the crispy bacon with her fingers, she held it out in front of his lips temptingly. “Try it. You might like it.”

Armand caught her hand in his, held it briefly, and then opened his mouth and tugged her hand gently forward to slip the bacon into his mouth. His lips brushed her fingertips as they closed, a deliberate action, she was sure. When she then tried to withdraw her hand, Armand wouldn’t let her. He held it in place, simply holding it before his face as he chewed and swallowed the bacon she’d offered. He then tugged her hand forward again.

Eshe stiffened, unsure if he meant to bite her fingers or kiss them, but he did neither. Instead, his tongue slid out and rasped over the pad of her thumb and fingers, licking away the grease left behind by the bacon and sending a shudder of unexpected pleasure down her back.

“Delicious,” Armand agreed huskily.

“Good,” Mrs. Ramsey said cheerfully.

Eshe retrieved her hand quickly and glanced guiltily toward the housekeeper as she turned to smile happily at them both.

“Eat up then before it gets cold,” she ordered, obviously in her element manning the kitchen.

Eshe forced her eyes down to her plate and picked up her fork again to continue eating, but she couldn’t help but sneak peeks at Armand as she did. He was eating now too, and with a relish that said he was indeed enjoying the food he consumed. His eyes were also glowing silver-blue and he was watching her hungrily as he did. It was enough to make her toes curl with anticipation. The man was definitely her life mate and he was hungry for more than food.

So was she.

Eshe already knew the pleasures to be found in the sacred bond between life mates. Her life with Orion had been a happy time, and she often retrieved the memories and relived them, wishing she could experience such bliss again. Which made it hard to lie to herself, and she knew damned right well that she’d been doing just that when she’d told herself she was only revealing that she was Armand’s life mate to rattle him. She wanted more than that. She wanted to enjoy some of those benefits of life mates while she could. Which was damned stupid, Eshe knew. It wouldn’t stop her from doing her work here, but it would distract her and slow her down and just make it incredibly hard if things didn’t work out happily at the end. If Armand was a killer behind the deaths of four immortal women and the mortal Nicholas had been accused of killing, then she would have to turn him in to Lucian. It would be hard, but her sense of justice wouldn’t allow for anything less.