My Husband's Vampire Uncle Claimed Me

Anne

"Anne, the greatest obstacle between us is my Uncle William. But don't worry—he won't be home for the next six months. Trust me, I'll seize this opportunity to have the Spencer family publicly acknowledge your place among us."

Edward held my hand as we climbed the broad steps of Merton Manor, laid with Turkish carpets.

His words lifted my spirits somewhat, but my body remained tense, my palms damp with nervous perspiration.

Just a month ago, my entire world had consisted of Yorkshire mud, hay, and dairy cattle.

Back then, I'd been hauling an unconscious young man from a flooded ditch by the farm, straining with every ounce of strength I possessed.

He wore waterlogged hunting attire of obvious expense, blond hair plastered against pallid cheeks—he looked like some hapless traveler who'd lost his way.

I assumed that once he came to, he'd flee this place reeking of manure without a backward glance.

Instead, quite the opposite occurred. This man—blessed with flawless features and proportions—began appearing at my door every single day, insisting it was to repay his debt to me.

He shed his tailored coat, rolled up his shirtsleeves, and clumsily helped me mend fences even when the tools bloodied his hands.

Handsome, ardent, utterly transparent in his courtship—he swept through my defenses like an unreasonable spring wind.

When we spoke our marriage vows in that little country chapel, I believed I was wedding an impoverished gentleman.

It wasn't until he'd kissed me that he told me, apologetic yet utterly solemn, that he was Edward Spencer—an earl with lands to his name.

I'll admit, in that moment I wanted to run.

A country girl who milked cows marrying an earl? It sounded like one of those plays the traveling theater troupes performed in town—the sort that always ended in heartbreak.

But I loved Edward. And like so many girls who've tumbled into love, I believed the power of what we felt would write us a different ending.

At the same time, I was fortunate. We had married. We had God's blessing and the law's recognition.

That meant our love wouldn't be dismissed by the world as mere elopement.

So I would stand beside him openly and earn his family's acceptance.

That was why I'd come to Merton Manor.

The bad news? There was still a mountain standing between us—Edward's "Uncle William."

The Duke of Merton. William Spencer. The true master of Merton Manor. The Empire's youngest Field Marshal. The most powerful adviser in the Privy Council. The tutor the Queen herself had appointed for the Crown Prince.

He wasn't the eldest son in his family and hadn't inherited the earldom, but through his own terrifying capability, he'd been created a duke.

Edward had briefed me on all this during the journey.

Truthfully, those titles meant little to me.

The most powerful person I'd ever encountered in my life was the tax collector who came to town each autumn.

But when Edward spoke the name "William," even his usually careless posture straightened.

I couldn't help asking, "Is he frightening?"

"He's... somewhat stern." Edward chose his words carefully, as though searching for a descriptor that wouldn't alarm me.

"Anne, I'm deeply grateful to him."

Edward turned to face me, gripping my hand.

"When my father died of lung disease, I was only twelve. The man was barely in the ground before other men began circling my mother. They were like vultures eyeing our family's assets."

He drew a deep breath, respect threading through his voice.

"It was Uncle William who gave my mother and me shelter. He taught me to read, taught me to hunt, paved my way in politics early on. To me, he's been both mentor and father."

I studied Edward's earnest profile, doubt creeping in.

"If he's so good to you, why would he dislike me?"

"No one could dislike you, Anne."

Edward cupped my face and kissed me, then lowered his voice as though the man might overhear his assessment from a thousand miles away.

"It's only that he's accustomed to controlling everything."

"If he decides something—or someone—isn't advantageous to the family, he becomes merciless. Right or wrong, any variable outside his plans will be eliminated without hesitation."

Edward's frown deepened. "He won't allow a commoner to become mistress of the Spencer household."

But then his resolve returned.

"Don't worry. Once my mother publicly acknowledges you, we'll move to my estate. I'm of age now—I don't need him managing my affairs anymore. After that, we'll never have to see him again."

Edward's strategy for this mountain named William was simple: if he couldn't scale it, he'd go around.

I harbored some doubt about the feasibility of his plan, but I still believed that as long as we loved each other, nothing could tear us apart.

Now, Edward had left me waiting outside the drawing room at Merton Manor.

He said he needed to speak with his grandmother and mother first, then he'd bring me in.

Before long, the drawing room doors swung open.

Edward stood in the doorway, his face rather pale, though his gaze remained tender.

"Don't be nervous. Come in."

He offered me his arm, and I took it as he led me inside.

Several older ladies sat in the drawing room.

I curtsied the way Edward had drilled into me ten times over the previous night.

Apart from the two women seated in the center, the others immediately raised their fans to hide the corners of their mouths.

Before I could determine whether I'd lifted the wrong foot first, Edward's grandmother—the Dowager Countess, Edith Spencer—spoke.

"Miss Hill, thank you for saving Edward. But we have no desire to waste your valuable time. Tell us directly what compensation you want."

I looked at Edward in confusion. This was the result of his negotiation?

But his expression mirrored my bewilderment.

He immediately objected. "No, Grandmother, didn't I explain? Anne's father has given his consent for her to marry me. We've had a church ceremony. Our marriage is legally registered. I brought her here so she could formally become part of the Spencer family."

The room fell silent. I saw Edward's mother—Lady Spencer, Margaret Spencer—dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

Then, a soft laugh.

"Her father consented?"

Recalling Edward's introductions from the previous evening, I recognized the speaker as his aunt, Lady Percy.

"They stumbled upon an earl for a son-in-law. Gold dropped from the sky right through their door—would they ever toss it back out?"

Heat flooded my cheeks.

She could mock my curtsy, but she had no right to speak of my parents this way.

My parents were poor, yes, but they saved the best milk for their children and scrimped on winter coal so I could have a new pair of shoes for church.

Edward had come to my house every day, begging my father to let me marry him!

And I loved him—whether he was an earl or a farmer.

If he weren't an earl, perhaps our love would have been simpler.

I wanted to say all this aloud, but Edward squeezed my hand.

"I spent a month pleading with Mr. Hill before he agreed to give Anne to me. She is my lawful wife."

His manner remained polite, but his tone had lost all room for negotiation.

"Whatever you may think, I brought her here to tell everyone."

Edward paused, then declared with finality:

"I swore before God that she would be my only wife, for all my life."

The room erupted.

Gasps, sobs, reproaches—like a November downpour, sudden and drenching, crashing down around me.

Edward's face was grave, but he swallowed hard. I knew he was nervous too.

He was standing against his family for my sake, yet the scene moments ago had left me unable to interject a single word.

So what should I do now to help him?

I raised my head and met the Dowager Countess's gaze directly.

I wanted to show her friendliness, to convey that even though they'd misunderstood me, I would forgive them.

After all, making a good impression on Edward's relatives was one way to gain their acceptance.

So I extended my neck in a ladylike fashion and smiled at her politely.

Her frown only deepened.

Was I still not behaving gracefully enough?

Before I could puzzle out an answer, the clamor in the drawing room began to subside.

The ladies turned their gazes toward something behind me, their expressions like sailors spotting a lighthouse in a storm.

I was curious too, but wouldn't turning around abruptly be considered rude?

Soon, the sound of leather shoes striking the wooden floor echoed from the distance, growing nearer.

Until the butler said respectfully:

"My Lord Duke."

I saw the muscles in Edward's jaw tighten.

The footsteps drew closer.

Finally, a chill settled behind me, sharp and immobilizing.