Pushing a door in, a looming, cavernous room that seemed to go on forever. Stepping in, she saw what she supposed to be a second story above the first one. Wind whistled through the open windows, and she flinched when the white curtain fluttered ghostly from an open window.
She looked through the panes, and even the luminous full moon; its bright glory seemed to be mocking her.
What’s wrong with me?She thought in despair. Spying the sitting room at the back of the room, she headed to it, only to feel a bit comforted at seeing a low fire flicker in the grate. She found the lone seat by the fire and, pulling her feet up, curled into a comforting ball.
So mired in her thoughts, she did not hear the quiet footsteps. “Are you lost, madam?”
Ariadne startled at the cultured baritone that held a hint of ice and darkness; instantly, her body washed with cold, pricking gooseflesh. Looking up, she only saw a tall, male body halfway cloaked in the gloom.
Another set of eyes, canine this time, glinted bluish-grey in the low light, and she was scared for another reason. This dog was built like a hellhound, not like the tiny balls of tuft her friend Leah had.
His coal-black hair was a rough, wild tousle, and from what she could see of his clothing, his tight breeches fitting his lean, virile figure like a glove while his loose shirt was baggy on his torso.
Her eyes landed on the hound, “Is he going to bite me?”
“No,sheis not,” he said. “Shouldn’t you be downstairs with your fellow lords and ladies participating in this glorified meat market?”
The utter disdain in his voice mirrored a feeling deep down inside her. He was right. If one looked at this endless array of balls and soirées for what it was and dissected it, it was no better than putting a poor farm girl onto a market stage and asking for the first buyer.
Her stomach trembled at being alone with an unknown man, who sounded colder and shaper than a double-edged dagger. He sounded dangerous.
“I ask you a question,” he said.
A strange sensation prickled down her spine as she wondered if his eyes were devouring her body. There was something almost… primal in his voice, which had her mind racing with unwanted thoughts.
Is he as attractive as his voice?
“Who are you?” she said in a high-pitched voice, which gave her away as being almost overcome with fear.
“Answer my question first,” he demanded.
She swallowed. “Unfortunately, this night had not been fortunate for me. I came here to have a moment alone.”
“You should go,” he said.
“You didn’t answer my question,” Ariadne said.
Why am I feeling like this?
Her breathing deepened as her heart began to race from all the questions running through her mind. Who was this man hiding in the shadows? Had she unknowingly walked into the den of a monster? She tried to hide the deep breath that shook her chest as she lifted her chin in the air.
His hand rested on the dog’s head. “I do not need to. This is my home, and you need to respect the boundaries given to the guests. Rejoin your ball, pet.”
She bristled at the gall of him to call her such a thing. “I am not your dog.”
“Athena does not wallow in self-pity because some popinjay lord does not give her his attention,” he said mockingly.
Flustered and irked, Ariadne stood and brushed the wrinkles out of her dress. “Fine, I’ll go. But first, assure me your… hellhound will not attack me.”
He snorted. “My dog is trained to rush rabbits from their warrens, not little misses from creating their Cheltenham Tragedy.”
Such a bounder!
She inched away from the mysterious man and his still dog and got to the doorway, turning only to try and see the man whom she’d been talking to in the odd case she had been speaking to a phantasm.
Ariadne turned just in time to get her first full glimpse of his face. The clean structure of his broad cheekbones and square jaw was offset by the burn-scarred skin drawn taut and livid across the left side of his face.
Her breath caught in her lungs.
