shadow and lace Read Free Page A

tremble.
    She followed his gaze. Her brothers stood lined up before the hearth in the most ordered manner she had ever seen them. Irwin beamed from the middle of the row.
    Bathed in the light of the flickering fire, the stranger stepped out of the shadows. Rowena raised her eyes. From where she knelt, it was as if she was peering up from the bottom of a deep well to meet the eyes of the man who towered over her. His level gaze sent a bolt of raw fear through her, riveting her to the floor as if she stared into the face of death itself. A long moment passed before she could pull her eyes away.
    "Papa?" she breathed, patting his cool, trembling hand.
    He stroked her hair, his eyes distant. "Rowena, I believe 'twould be fitting for you to step outside till we have concluded our dealings."
    "You made no mention of a daughter, Fordyce." The stranger's gaze traveled between father and child.
    Papa's arm curved around Rowena's shoulders like a shield. The stranger's mocking laughter echoed through the hall. Only Rowena heard Papa's muttered curse as he realized what he had betrayed.
    "Your interest is in my sons," Papa hissed, a tiny vein in his temple beginning to throb.
    "But
your
interest is not. That much is apparent."
    The man advanced and Rowena rose, knowing instinctively that she did not want to be on her knees at this stranger's feet. She stood without flinching to face the wrought links of the silver chain mail that crossed the man's chest. From broad shoulders to booted feet, his garments were as black as the eyes that regarded her with frank scrutiny. She returned his perusal with arms crossed in front of her.
    A closer look revealed his eyes were not black, but a deep, velvety brown. Their opacity rendered them inscrutable, but alive with intelligence. Heavy, arched brows added a mocking humor that gave Rowena the impression she was being laughed at, although his expression did not waver. His sable hair was neatly cut, but an errant waviness warned of easy rebellion. His well-formed features were saved from prettiness by an edge of rugged masculinity enhanced by his sheer size. The thought flitted through Rowena's mind that he might be handsome if his face was not set in such ruthless lines.
    He reached down and lifted a strand of her hair as if hypnotized by its brightness. The velvety tendril curled around his fingers at the caress.
    Rowena's hand slipped underneath her tunic, but before she could bring the knife up to strike, her wrist was twisted in a fearful grip that sent the blade clattering to the stones. She bit her lip to keep from crying out. The man loosed her.
    "She has more fire than the rest of you combined." The stranger strode back to the hearth. "I'll take her."
    The hall exploded in enraged protest. Papa sank back in the chair, his hand over his eyes.
    "You cannot have my sister!" Little Freddie's childish tenor cut through his brothers' cries.
    Smirking, the man leaned against the hearth. "Take heart, lad. 'Tis not forever. She is only to serve me for a year."
    Rowena looked at Papa. His lips moved, but made no sound. Her brothers spewed forth dire and violent threats, although they remained in place as if rooted to the stone. She wondered if they had all taken leave of their senses. The stranger's sparkling eyes offered no comfort. They watched her as if delighting in the chaos he had provoked. The tiny lines around them crinkled as he gave her a wink made all the more threatening by its implied intimacy. A primitive thrill of fear shot through her, freezing her questions before they could leave her lips.
    Papa's whine carried just far enough to reach the man's ears. "We said sons, did we not?"
    The man's booming voice silenced them all. "Nay, Fordyce. We said children. I was to have the use of one of your children for a year."
    Rowena's knees went as slack as her jaw. Only the sheer effort of her will kept her standing.
    "You cannot take a man's only daughter," said Papa, unable to keep the pleading