Mirabelle blinked in some surprise; a vampire as old as this one didn't drink human blood. Then when she spoke of the missing Blackmoore--the "Pirate Wench" apparently--Mirabelle nodded in assurance. Of course the woman wasn't here; the Kingstons had no interest kidnapping a Blackmoore. That would be far too much trouble than it would ever be worth. After all, peace was ideal for Mirabelle and this ancient seemed to agree. Her lips parted to express as much, but a ringing came from her dress. 

Although she felt it rude to take a call when hosting a guest--especially Morven--times were tense and very few had Mirabelle's number. "I'm very sorry, but I need to take this. Praetor, please assure..." her voice trailed off as she realized she didn't know this one's name. Another ring. "Please assure our guest that we have similar goals." And with that, Mirabelle turned away to answer her phone as she retreated upstairs. 

"Hello?" she answered. 
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Klaus remained quiet, scowling. Admittedly, he had quickly grown fascinated with the woman before them. As old as himself--perhaps older--and she stuck to animal blood? If it wasn't humans, it was typically other vampires at that age. Then she asked for co-existence between the families, furthering his frown. In his opinion, the parties should have disbanded a long time ago. Still, he only watched as Mirabelle was stolen away by the phone, and his gaze shifted to Praetor expectantly. Of course, thoughts of how much he hated the Roman surfaced, but he managed to pay attention past that.