Shadow Dance Read Free

same time, and their laughing banter stopped abruptly as they stared at him. He wished he had a hand free to tug at his collar, but had to content himself with keeping his face modestly downcast, hoping he’d be able to escape without further notice.
    “And who’s this pretty young creature?” a soft, feminine voice crooned. Julian looked toward the lady, then realized with a shock that it was the gentleman who’d spoken.
    “He’s new, Sir Neville,” Agnes offered nervously.
    Sir Neville didn’t even glance in the maid’s direction,his faintly protruding blue eyes fastening on Julian’s face with an almost hungry expression. “I’m aware of that, girl,” he snapped, closing his fan and advancing on the hapless Julian. “What’s your name, lad?” he continued in that gentle, mincing voice. Julian set the tray on the table, in hopes of making a fast escape, but Sir Neville forestalled him, putting one skinny white finger beneath his chin and tilting his face upward.
    “Leave him alone, you wretch,” the lady chided in a mocking voice that was a husky drawl, deeper than her gentleman escort’s. “Can’t you see the boy’s an innocent? Not your type at all.”
    “Oh, I like them innocent,” Sir Neville murmured, his finger caressing Julian’s chin, his flesh cold against Julian’s skin. “It’s so much fun debauching them.”
    There was a third guest in the room. Julian hadn’t even noticed as he stood trapped by Sir Neville’s basilisk eyes and the lady’s amusement, until he felt a presence behind him. An exceedingly large presence, towering over him.
    “You heard her, Neville.” The deep voice sent unexpected chills down Julian’s spine. “Leave the boy alone. Not everyone shares your perverse tastes.”
    “But how does he know unless he’s tried them?” Sir Neville was undaunted. “How would you like to come with me, boy? Live in a beautiful house, wear lovely, silken clothes, have all you want to eat? You’d never have to work, and you’d sleep in a soft feather bed.”
    “Maybe you’d better explain to him that he wouldn’t be sleeping alone,” that sardonic voice behind Julian continued.
    Julian could feel the blush mount his face. He’d heard of certain tendencies during the time he’d spent in Araby.Despite Bessie’s warning, he hadn’t realized the English shared such proclivities.
    He backed away from the encroaching white hand, the avid eyes, forgetting for a moment the presence behind him. He came up against someone very large, very solid, very warm, and the hands that came down on his arms were hard and strong and steadying. “If I were you, lad,” the voice behind him said in a pleasant drawl, “I’d run like a rabbit from here. Away from dangerous wolves like Sir Neville.”
    Julian turned, to stare up, way up, into the face of his captor. For a moment, transfixed, he couldn’t move.
    If the lady was lovely, the other gentleman exquisite, this man was something else entirely. He was tall, maybe not the tallest man Julian had ever seen, but close to it. He was lean, almost gaunt, but there was a steely strength to his body, one Julian had felt in his hands. His hair was black and unfashionably long, and his face was very different from the lady’s. It was a narrow, mocking face, with a cynical twist to his somewhat thin mouth, a cool intelligence in his eyes. And those eyes were extraordinary. Gray, like the woman’s, yet with an odd silver light to them. Julian had the strange, unnerving feeling that the man could see through to the very center of one’s soul. And his need to escape grew even stronger. He had too many secrets to risk sharing them with this clear-eyed stranger.
    “You know, Philip,” the woman said in her husky voice, “I think he’s far more taken with you than with Neville here. Maybe you should consider changing your interests.”
    The man called Philip paid her no heed, staring down at Julian with an arrested expression on his face.