

A Historical Romance Novel by Patrice Hannah

COINS & DAGGERS Copyright © 2015 by Patrice Hannah

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems – except in the case of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews – without permission in writing from its author, Patrice Hannah. The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Copyright © 2015 Patrice Hannah

A Note From The Author

Thanks for checking out Coins & Daggers. The plot of this book came to me one evening while staring through my bedroom window as it rained heavily outside. I must admit that I've never written anything close to historical romance before but I did try my best on this one. Just to be a little safe, as I'm not great at History either, I also created my own little country of Bascain. It was sort of a challenge that I had set for myself and I hope I managed to overcome it somehow.

If you enjoy the read, please spread the word among your romance-loving friends. I'd also love hearing from you.

Your book-loving friend,

Patrice Hannah

Dedication

To my sister, Janelle;

for daring me to write 50000+ words, your innocent dares have paid off.
Contents

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

Eighteen

Ninteen

Twenty

Twenty-one

Twenty-two

Twenty-three

Twenty-four
Epilogue

From Ulric and Audelia

About the Author

One

February, 1649

The outskirts of Camden Village...

Heavy rainfall beat mercilessly against the shingled roof above, sending a wave of chill throughout the entire room. A lone beacon burned brightly near the door which was used as both an entrance and exit no more than three times a day. Audelia Rolfen turned on her side, gazing at the dancing flame and imagined for the briefest of moments, herself burning within it. On nights like these, that was all she ever contemplated and when the sun rose and the cycle began again, death seemed to consume her thoughts above all else. Shifting on the makeshift bed, a preparation of thick fabric stuffed with thin layers of straw, she pulled the old brown blanket higher beneath her chin. It was amazing, truly, how one's life and comfort could be so inconsequential to another.

Across from her were dozens of beds like this one, arranged in parallel rows on the floor with just one single aisle breaking through the middle of the room. Just before dusk on every morning, their mistress, Madame de Lucci would stride down that very aisle and ringing her tiny obnoxious bell to initiate the morning inspection. It was a ritual, really, where she and her assistants would mark the register and then prepare the girls for their morning toiletries. These were girls Audelia's age, sixteen and seventeen-year-olds; girls from similar backgrounds and of even closer circumstances. Girls who did not have a choice.

"Do you believe in God, Lia?"

The question came in a hoarse whisper directly from her right. It was Jocelyn Bardeen, a seventeen year old girl and Audelia's only friend in this entire domicile. They had arrived together, some three months ago, when Madame de Lucci had taken them from separate orphanages across the country.

Audelia turned, and even though she could barely make out her friend's face, she thought Jocelyn had those remarkable light blue eyes that could light up even the densest of caves. Smiling sadly, she searched her heart for an answer. It had been a while since she'd thought of such things. "Sometimes."

Prayer had been the only thing that had kept her going through those long years at Mistress Gildome's Orphanage for Girls. She'd prayed because she'd had no other option. She'd prayed because she knew someone was there listening. There were times now when prayer was her only solace but sometimes...sometimes she didn't know what to believe anymore.

"My mama used to say that God always finds a way," Jocelyn went on even more softly. "She's right, you know. We'll get to leave this place one day, Lia. I just know it."

Frowning, Audelia stared up at the dark ceiling. She envied Jocelyn's optimism at times. If only she could be so faithful. If only she could recall something...anything of her own parents that could somehow reassure her of a future she'd stopped wishing for long ago. She had no memory of or ties to them but the name she had been convinced was truly hers. There were nights when she had truly thought about it or on the very few occasions she was afforded a mirror at bath. She would imagine having her mother's rich brown eyes and perhaps her father's deep ebony hair. Or mayhap it was the other way around. There was really no way of her knowing. Like the other girls, she had no home and no family to claim as her own.

"Jocelyn?" Reaching out a tentative hand, she touched her friend on the shoulder.

"Mm?" She was dozing off already.

"Do you pray for me?"

"Mm\--yes," she yawned lightly. "We should pray f...for each other."

Audelia rolled onto her back and swallowed, hoping that the silent prayer in her heart would be heard.

"Lia, wake up!"

The hushed hiss came directly next to her right ear, startling her out of a deep wet dream of complete emptiness. Scowling at the ache in her temples, she quickly came to when someone gave her one harsh teeth-rattling shake. Slightly dizzy, she stumbled to her feet and eyed Jocelyn wearily. It was then that she recognized the infamous ringing of Madame de Lucci's bell and the tapping sounds of her slippers along the stone floor. Swallowing tightly, she quickly ran a hand over her disheveled hair and down the front of her white tunic.

She whispered softly to Jocelyn. "Thank you."

Her friend whispered back through the corner of her mouth, not even daring to make eye contact in case Madame or any of her assistants were to see. "God knows what she would have done." And she quickly crossed her heart.

Madame de Lucci was a beautiful woman with long blonde curls normally caught up in the most unusual of fashions. But then again, there did not appear to be anything usual about the Madame at all. Audelia watched as she made her way down the aisle, passing at least twelve rows before she made it to the back of the room, and up to the center again. Dressed in a flowing mauve gown and matching veil, she looked everything the regal, her red-painted lips pinched into a tight line.

"Good morning, girls. I see you are all looking well risen."

"Good morning, Madame de Lucci." The entire room echoed with the response; one of the many dull choruses that they had been taught to say from the moment each of them had first set foot inside the building.

"Miss Darcott will be in soon to supervise you to your morning toiletries and then you will all meet in the West Chamber to undergo your fortnightly inspections." Madame pivoted gracefully, her violet gaze sweeping over every then-pale face in the room. "So wash thoroughly."

As soon as Madame had retreated from the room, Audelia released her breath and shuddered. "Why do we need to be inspected every fourteen days?"

Jocelyn shook her head and sunk to her knees, reaching for the blanket she'd tossed aside next to her makeshift bed. "I don't know, Lia. But I'm scared."

Sinking to her own knees, Audelia started tidying her bed too. "Why are we here?" she said in a hushed tone. "We are never permitted too leave."

"I don't want to think about it, Lia. We should just--"

The door busted open again and both girls finished straightening their blankets before jumping to their feet again. Miss Darcott, a short plump woman with a very keen eye stepped inside and surveyed the room.

"Come now. You all know what needs to be done," she announced in a shrill voice. "Make it hasty too. We shan't keep the Madame waiting. A single queue, please."

* * *

"Audelia Rolfen!"

Her name echoed from the West Chamber and into the hall where she and the remaining four girls sat awaiting their inspections. Miss Darcott looked at her and shook her head sorrily.

"Is that you, child?"

"Um...yes, Ma'am."

"Then why, pray tell, are you still standing in that spot, wringing your hands like a blasted buffoon?"

Audelia blinked and uttered a quick apology before walking ahead with the hawk-like Miss Darcott on her heels. The West Chamber was a large spacious room with very little furniture except for the armchair Madame de Lucci would occupy whenever her feet tired. Apart from that, there was a low wooden stool positioned on the center of the floor and a wash basin to the far left corner of the room. There really was nothing special about the room at all, except that it was one of the most dreaded places in the entire building. It was the venue for the infamous fortnightly inspections.

"Ah, Audelia Rolfen," Madame de Lucci uttered, eyeing her from head to toe. "How are you doing this morning?"

"Fine, Madame."

"Wonderful. On the stool now." Nodding, Audelia did as she was told, heart pounding as she poistioned herself still and standing upright. "Remove the tunic, dear."

A light cold breeze seemed to have come from nowhere, planting bitter kisses against her skin. Shivering, she undid the buttons lining the front of her tunic which ran from neckline to hem. Slowly, she rid herself of the garment and held her breath. It was a task she knew she would never get accustomed to. "C-cold..." she muttered before she'd had the chance to hold it in.

"Yes, yes I know. It's quite common for this time of the year." Madame de Lucci then turned to the ogling Miss Darcott. "A rare one, isn't she?"

"She's quite well developed, Madame."

"I agree." Moving forward, the Madame looked her over with strange approval and smiled. "You are seventeen, child?"

"Y-yes, Madame--"

"Eighteen in two months," Miss Darcott interjected.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect. Oh, Miss Darcott, this one will most definitely do."

Audelia's gaze darted between both women, anxious to know precisely what they were talking about. Perfect? It was hardly a word she'd use to describe herself and it had never ever been indicated as such whenever she stared at herself in the mirrors. If anything, she thought she looked just like every other girl in the building. Pale and distraught.

The Madame grasped her by the arm and appraised her naked body again before meeting her eyes. "Don't look so terrified, child. You are yet to understand the world that we all live in."

"Madame?" Audelia frowned, trying to find the right words to ask. "Is there--"

"Hush now," the woman responded, smiling with glee and running a slender hand down the girl's right arm. "They are only two words of consequence which should be weighing on your mind, darling. And they are: endless opportunities."

T wo

March, 1650

The dark haired girl shrunk back into the shadows of the wet alleyway, her hand hovering over the hilt of the dagger at her waist. The provincial guards would be out soon so she'd best collect as much as she could before she was forced to move on to the next village. Swallowing tightly, the aching in her throat worsened to remind her that she hadn't much to eat, much less drink, in the last couple of days. It was a feeling she had grown quite accustomed to over the most recent months but she supposed it was far better to be free and starving than to return to the life she had escaped, battered and torn, from.

Directly outside that alley stood the heart of Thornea, a tiny district to the east of the barbarous Camden Village. It did not offer much but it did boast a few merchants now and then who made a stop at the local inn before continuing their journey on towards Camden. Traveling merchants meant heavy pockets, and heavy pockets usually secured her next few meals. Gritting her teeth, she gazed out at the bustling crowd which always seemed to grow larger around nightfall. The serf and merchant stalls were still up, sufficiently lit by burning lanterns. A couple of carriages passed by quickly, villagers going about their businesses in all directions. But her gaze never averted from the man who stood a few meters away, flocked by a couple of men and dressed in the most decent garb she'd ever seen in these parts.

Decent, was hardly the word to describe it but she'd really hadn't the time to search her vocabulary either. Surely, he must be a man of some import with the way he quickly moved through the crowd purposefully just now. She could barely make out any of their faces but that was just a minor detail in her eyes. She'd never forget that garb.

Frowning slightly, she watched as the group headed through the open doors of the inn. She'd sneaked inside that building countless times to fetch a few coins. Perhaps if she was successful this time, she'd be lucky the group was well stocked to afford her a passable ride as far away from Thornea as possibly, and perchance even a little extra to establish her own stall somewhere. Smiling, she nodded slowly. This just might be her one chance at redemption. Glancing away from the crowd, she turned to creep away when a hand grasped her by the shoulder.

"Audelia, I think we're going to be rich."

Frowning, she shrugged the slimy hand of her 'partner', Mart, off. Well, not exactly partner since she was the one who did all the hard work anyway. The scraggy whelp was no more than a year or so older than she was but proved to be a useless leech with every passing day. She'd entirely forgotten he was there in the alley with her.

"Will you not lean so close to me just now?" she hissed softly. "I can feel you breathing down my neck." Goosebumps ran a nasty course along her throat and down the middle of her back. "And I told you, do not call me by my name!"

"Well, there's no need for you to shout, lass." She could hear his boots scraping against the pebbled pavement as he shifted. "What do you think about that group you was staring after? They sure looked like well-off fellows to me."

Audelia sighed. Might as well let the fool in on the plan if she was going to survive the next couple minutes. Heavens knew she needed some silence to actually think. She just hoped everything went well because she had every intention of losing this lunatic before sunrise too. "Did you see how the middle one dressed?" She didn't wait for him to answer. "That one had pockets so full, I could see it in the fabric of his pricey cloak. All we need is to get inside that inn and I'll handle the rest. Got it?"

"I got it." Mart sucked the tip of his tongue through the wide gap between his two crooked front teeth and touched her again. "I say we split the profits fifty five-forty five, eh?"

Audelia glared over her shoulder even though all she could see was the thin slits of his eyes. "Seventy-thirty or else the only thing I'll be splitting is your throat on my dagger."

Her partner swallowed his tongue momentarily. "S-seventy-thirty, it is."

**

Audelia waited inside a much darker alleyway which sat in a tightly packed space between the east side of the inn and a run-down bakeshop. If she'd calculated correctly, she had been huddled in that same cramped spot for fours hours now. She was definitely trying her luck here but Mart had somehow managed to weasel some information out of the innkeeper which suggested that all his preferred guests normally shared lodgings on the upper east floor of the building, and there was only one occupied room on that floor as far as she could see. She had even waited an extra hour after the lights had been doused just to ensure that the unfortunate guv would be fast asleep when she made her attack.

Ignoring the twisting sensations in her stomach, Audelia took a deep breath and hoped Mart was prepared to come to her aid if needs me. Although she highly doubted that, one can never be too sure. Checking for the knife inside her right boot and her favorite dagger, she crept deeper within the darkness and reached her fingers between the spaces where the planes of lumber met in the structure of the wall. Scaling buildings was another task she'd gotten relatively used to; one she'd first accomplished upon escaping Madame de Lucci's despicable claws. But then again, she was not fond of that subject and it was not a matter she enjoyed thinking upon either. Audelia was halfway up the wall when she heard a whispered shout from below.

"I'm right here if you need me!"

Cursing under her breath, she held on tight despite the burning in her fingers, and looked down. She couldn't see a damn thing but Mart had a distinctly grating voice which had made him seemingly unpopular amongst the other villagers. Lucky her.

"Stay there and be quiet," she hissed back. Rolling her eyes to the heavens, she slowly continued on upwards, sweat beading along her neck and forehead as the pressure in her arms, legs and back intensified. A couple more meters and she'd be at the gates of a new tomorrow. She figured it was indeed worth it all.

Releasing a silent breath, Audelia clenched her teeth and grasped the ledge of the window leading into the guv's room. Pulling herself up slightly, she peered inside to see a fast-burning candle on the floor towards the door. One large manly frame lay unmoving on the bed to other side of the room. At the foot of the bed, she could make out well-polished black boots that would fetch a hefty price once she got her hands on them. All in all, the night looked to be a very promising one. Now, all she needed was to get this window open without waking the prized occupant of the chamber. Awkwardly reaching for the dagger at her waist, Audelia then placed it carefully between her teeth as she eased a bit more upwards so she could better see along the windowpane. Sliding her fingertips carefully beneath the window, she prayed it hadn't been closed on the inside, and lifted slowly. To her utmost relief, the window slid upwards with not a creak, not even a murmur. Surely a man like this was not used to a place like Thornea to leave his chamber so breachable to outsiders. For a moment, she almost screamed with joy, her heart doing back-flips inside her chest.

Bracing her arms on the pane, she eased inside carefully, sucking in her stomach as she went. Now would not be a proper time at all for it to make its quarrelsome rants be known. As soon as she managed to slide inside the chamber undetected, she eased out of her boots and crawled across the floor slowly, her dagger already poised and ready to take aim if so necessary. She'd learned a lot over the past months while chasing pockets; a dagger was always necessary. Audelia moved pass the shiny black boots, vowing that she'd not leave them behind, and headed towards the armchair where the guv had hung his pricey coat. Promises of silver glittered like diamonds in her vision and she inched further, glancing behind her now and then to be certain she hadn't woken him. She'd robbed many a men before but she'd never encountered one so sound a sleeper. It was almost as if he was knocked out-cold.

Audelia licked her lips and reached for the coat, hand poised just over the collar of the garment when a daunting shadow flickered across the wall.

"Release my coat, boy, and I shall spare you your dignity."

Heart suddenly thundering, Audelia jumped at the softly spoken command and turned to look over her shoulder. Before she could make a mad run for it, the man shifted in the moonlight now flooding through the window. Rushing to her feet, she pointed her dagger and scowled as her vision adjusted on him. The man stood tall and formidable only a few feet from her and as far as she could see, this one was definitely of some import. The aristocratic nose and the burning arrogance in his gaze only gave way to the murderous ire that was emanating off his form. Audelia was in deep waters and she certainly knew it. But she refused to be bested now, not even by a giant who looked like he could snap her in halves.

"I suggest you stay your step, sir." She licked her drying lips, gaze darting around for any other possible exit. What was she even thinking? There was no other possible exit. But he needn't know that. "I'd sure not like to cut you." And she raised her dagger-wielding arm much higher.

"Hell's fire!" The man cursed and spat at his feet, tossing to the bed the knife he'd held boldly in his hand. "A damn...wench?"

Audelia watched on as the man ran a hand through his long shoulder length hair. "I say do not move, sir. I must warn you that I've wielded a dagger many times before and am yet to miss."

"Youuu cheeky minx. I am going to wring your scrawny little neck!"

Eyes widening with fright, she ducked across the room, almost tripping over the blasted leather boots and headed for the door. Before she could even grab for the knob, one large hand yanked her by the long straight plait going down her back and she went flying backwards, connecting hard against one solid statue of flesh. Everything in her mind went scattering at that point, hopeless thoughts invading her head.

The door smashed open and a man rushed in, one of the guv's men more than likely, holding Mart upright by his flimsy collar.

"Your Lordship," he said, breathlessly. "I found this one beneath your window as if to climb up."And as if the man had just noticed the slender wench being held tight around the arm by his beloved Lordship himself, he gaped openly and swore. "Bloody hell!"
Three

Chastelle Manor

Bryce Ulric St. Rosso was in a foul disposition. Not only had he been, just mere hours ago, the potential victim of a madly conceived intrusion but he had moreover almost been bested by a wily slip of a female who barely even seemed to be out of the blasted schoolroom. For all that was good and holy, the chit had dared to hold a knife at him much less have the audacity to attempt to use it. He'd been shocked straight down to his toenails if he were truly to admit it and furthermore, he could scarcely even believe it had he not witnessed it himself. The slender little thing had even looked as if she'd fall on her ass had he been to even blow in her direction. God's teeth, save for the ounce of propriety that was left inside of him, he would have knocked a few senses into that obviously thick skull of hers.

Reaching for his tankard, he took a hefty swallow and groaned, easing back into his chair and thanking the heavens for small favors. If he had known the past eve would have ended in such chaos he would have never left the confines of his estate in the first place. But business had to be done and who would have known that he, Lord of Chastelle, would be accosted in the middle of the night by a feather-brained chit who wore men's breeches. Releasing a throaty groan, he took another sip of the intense liquid. He was certainly getting too old for such dramatic things. A brief knock sounded on the door to his study and he sighed. Only one soul would dare interrupt him at this hour. Dawn had barely even cracked on the horizon.

"Pleasant morn, is it not?"

Edwin Montagu, his right hand man and most loyal friend, stepped inside the room without even the slightest of acknowledgments.

"What do you want, Edwin?"

The man marched across the floor, helping himself to a tankard of his own. "Simply to know what to do with the loose-tongued female you have locked up below stairs."

"Let the witch rot in her cell and leave me be."

"Even you, Ulric, can admit that this is complete outrage. The chit looks half-dead already. But appears she'll live."

"She should thank Jesu for that. I wanted to murder the little fool myself."

Edwin shook his head, a few locks of his deep golden hair spilling over his forehead. "Your notorious gaol is hardly the place for a girl. Men have suffered down there."

"She's a criminal who made the grave mistake of drawing a blade in my presence."

"A chit of that stature could never best you, milord."

Looking up sharply, Ulric narrowed his eyes on his friend. "No chit of any stature could ever best me. I would like to think that you do not vex me on purpose."

"Of course not. You are the Lord of Chastelle. No one would even dare."

Although the words came with conviction, Ulric didn't miss the twinkle in his best friend's eyes.

"What do you suggest?"

Edwin paused and frowned, scratching his forehead. "Uh... I don't-I don't know."

"Well, based on how you rushed in here declaring your humanitarian rights, I would like to think that your brain had managed to somehow cultivate a better alternative."

"Well, that was long before I thought you'd even take my advice. Since when do you listen to me?"

Ulric wove a dismissive hand and brought the tankard back to his lips. "Then we shall agree to disagree and move on with our lives. The chit stays right where she belongs. Besides, I have more pressing matters to address. For instance, how everyone failed to inform me of my dear sister's impending visit."

This time Edwin made no attempt whatsoever at stifling his amusement. "I hear Lady Ryia misses her only brother terribly. And why wouldn't she? Lord Ulric is known to have an extremely fetching personality."

Scowling, Ulric decided to ignore his friend's taunt and rose from his desk to look through the window behind him. From this floor, on the main house of the estate, he had a tremendous view across the eastern forests of Bascain. Heavy green pastures spread outwards for miles, the icy-capped peaks standing high beyond them. He could see now, the orange and reddish hues of sunrise stretching across the sky. Ulric wasn't particularly an avid admirer of nature but somehow he found himself yearning for a little dawn of something relevant in his life for a change.

He shook his head and turned. "I have not seen Ryia in nigh eight years since she had been wed off to that blasted baron she'd foolishly fallen in love with. What brings her here now?"

Edwin scoffed and swallowed the remainder of his beverage. "She's your last living relative. The least you can do is see her."

"As if I have a choice. The missive I received indicates she's only a day away."

"Wonderful. Now how about we pay your captive a visit, eh? I still do believe you should have just handed her over to the public gaoler. Especially with your delicate sister freely roaming the castle beginning next morn."

Scratching his chin, Ulric grumbled and strode pass his friend. The only thing he believed was that his audacious captive deserved a sound thrashing.

**

Audelia Rolfen paced in the dark cell, suddenly all too aware that she had been captured and left to die in a stink-hole far from any chance of escape. If that pigheaded beast of a man thought she'd sit still and waste away like some hopeless fool then he had sadly mistaken. She'd come too far now to give up. Swearing, she cringed as the chill from the cold concrete seeped its way through the naked soles of her feet. Damnable barbarians. The least they could have done was hand over her boots and perhaps a blanket. Now the only thing she had to her back was the sweaty long-sleeved cotton shirt she'd been wearing for days and the linen breeches she'd taken from Mart.

Nibbling on her already crooked nails, Audelia slid down against the wall, the rough floor doing terrible harm to her backside. She wondered where the little idiot was now. Perhaps if he hadn't gotten himself caught lingering beneath the guv's window at the inn, she would have afforded a greater chance at escaping. Audelia was almost sure she would have managed to break away from the man's hold back in the chamber but when the other came rushing in with Mart by his collar, she'd lost all hope then. How had she to really stave off two full-sized males with just one dagger?

Heaving footsteps echoed from somewhere beyond the dark walls and Audelia found herself rising quickly despite the ache in her limbs. The harsh sounds of boots grinding against cobbles and stones came louder now, followed by a beaming light which gave her the very first if not repulsive glimpse of her gaol's interior. Swallowing deeply, she braced herself against the wall and waited. The approaching whoever-they-were stopped beyond the thick wooden door that held the only exit to her cage. In one heart-wrenching moment, said door was flung open and in marched the beast himself.

Audelia's lips curved into a nasty snarl as she beheld her jailer. She couldn't understand how he managed to look even taller but just gazing at him made her want to shrink away into the nearest hole if she could find one. He was dressed in black garb and the shin-high leather boots she'd craved so much to make a fortune from. For some reason her gaze lingered on his face far longer than she had liked but a countenance like that certainly deserved more than a single glance. In admission, her jailer was a good-looking man, an unconventional rugged type of handsome that must have left countless lassies thinking of days on a ship and naughty nights in it's main cabin. Her glare dipped lower though despite her best efforts, sliding over his neatly pinned back shoulder-length hair, it's blackness glistening in the torchlight.

Mentally shaking the apparent cobwebs from her mind, she straightened to her full five-foot-six-inches height and screwed up her face.

"Come to pay your lucky prisoner a visit, have you?"

To her surprise her jailer grinned, all teeth and throaty amusement that she wished she had a rock to slam into his arrogant face. "Actually, I'd every intention of showing you my favorite noose but my dear friend, Edwin, somehow has developed a strange liking for outlandish females."

Audelia narrowed her eyes. "Tell your friend, Edwin, that I am specially skilled at cramping a man in even the most private of places. Come near me and I shall de-man both of you."

Her jailer came closer, legs moving fast as he towered over her, face stricken. "That's hardly the right thing to say in the presence of the man who holds your life in his palm, wench." He looked her over quickly. "What is your name?"

"My name is no more important than my wish to exchange words with you at the moment. Do you honestly think that I--"

Audelia gasped as one big hand pawned her throat and squeezed. Not to kill her but certainly to hurt the hell out of her. Pawing at his thick arm, she wheezed and strained for the air she hadn't known she'd want so much.

"Listen carefully," he was saying. She could see his eyes more clearly now. They were a deep green, much like the color of the forests she'd dreamed daily of escaping into...and certainly the last thing she should have been noticing at the moment. "I am not in a gaming mood. So if you seek to be amusing, I am sure the devil and his compatriots wouldn't mind bidding you a fierce welcome."

He shoved her firmly against the wall and pressed even closer, his big hard frame leaning into her much much slender one. Those intense green eyes burned into her soul like a piercing dagger and she trembled, watching in terror as his gaze roamed her face swiftly and then dipped below to the loose neckline of her shirt.

"How old are you?" His voice came out rough and demanding.

She wheezed. "N-Nineteen."

Ulric tore his gaze from the exceptional bosom that peeked its way through the flimsy material of the chit's shirt. What the hell was he thinking? He hadn't intended on choking the life out of her and by far more, had no reason to be liking the delicious swell of her small breasts either. But just the sight of them had driven him to a heady state that he had tried hard to avoid as of late. He certainly hadn't noticed how delicate a face she sported or how light and slender she was...until now. God's blood, she wasn't even pretty. He could hardly call her that but she had a defiance about her that got under his skin like a raging itch. And for some reason, he was beginning to find that realization oddly fascinating, which was why he dropped his grip from her throat and stepped a few steps back before he fully lost his mind.

Taking a sharp breath in, Ulric watched with pained guilt as the girl sucked in rapidly needed breaths and massaged her more-than-likely burning neck. He hadn't felt so remorseful since the day his sister had married that stupid baron just to escape his so-called 'controlling ways'. Perhaps, he was not well in the presence of women at all.

"Why were you in my room at the inn?"

The girl glared at him and although he did not blame her, he was more desperate for her to speak up quickly. He had other concerns that needed his attention.

"What do you think? Do not get your thoughts muddled, milord." She mocked him and he knew it. "I, unlike most women, have never craved common attention from strange men." She straightened and swallowed visibly. "Why, you looked to have mighty deep pockets, sir."

Ulric's brows almost shot off his face. Surely, she must be jesting. "You're...a thief?"

"An excellent one too." She smiled widely as if with pride, one corner of her mouth turning up in a sly grin.

"You mean to tell me that your intention was to take my coin?"

He definitely could not believe what he was hearing and just having the girl so near made him very...very uncomfortable. She was only nineteen years old; two years more than his sister Ryia's age when she herself had been wed. From all he's ever known, nineteen year old females could not be thieves. They were innocent and annoying and married off to firm gentlemen who could keep them in line.

"Not just take your coin, sir." She fidgeted with her trousers a while, pulling at the crotch. "I meant to rob you blind. Coin like yours could save the life of someone like me."

Ulric knew he should not feel an ounce of empathy for this criminal who would have stuck a knife inside his chest at first opportunity but somehow he found himself staring into those pale brown eyes which spoke volumes of a scared young woman. Whatever could have driven her to become a thief? It surely ought not to be a celebrated profession. "Where is your family?"

Audelia frowned as she regarded the man before her. She hated being the subject of any form of talk and she certainly was no story-teller either. "Are you going to hang me tonight or in the morn?"

"I have not decided yet."

"Well since I am meant to be hanged for my crimes, kind sir, my last and only wish is that I'm afforded just a wee bit of privacy while I await my looming death."

Giving the girl one last glance, his glower sweeping from the crown of her disheveled hair to the toes of her dirty bare feet, Ulric turned on his heel and left the cell. As he walked, he wondered what the hell he was going to do with his new prisoner.
Four

Baroness Ryia St. Rosso Hyslop flew through the front doors of Chastelle Manor, swept the large and very familiar foyer and bound up the endless staircase to her brother's study. As far as she remembered, it was his favorite place on the entire estate. She supposed, as the reputed hermit her brother had transformed into, he probably was swimming in tankards of brandy and sulking the day away. But oh, she had a piece of her mind to tell Bryce Ulric St. Rosso and he was going to hear it. Slamming the side of her fist against the thick wooden door, Ryia grumbled when no answer came.

"I know you are in there! Open the door, you hear me!"

After moments of pounding and no response, Ryia groaned her frustration and shove the door open, surprised to find that it had been unlocked all this time. Inside, her brother was seated at his desk as he read something from a roll of parchment. Bristling, she scuffled over and wagged her finger angrily in his face.

"You would think that after seven and a half years, my own brother would welcome me in the courtyard."

Ulric glanced up and then back to his reading quickly. "Welcome back, sister." He even reached for his blasted tankard. "I suppose it would please you greatly to know that you haven't changed one bit."

"And I suppose it would please you greatly to know that you are just the same darned eremite I left behind too." She glanced around the barely lit study and shuddered. "And this room is as dark as your mood, brother. Besides, I only came here to say that--What?"

Ryia glanced dubiously at her brother who was now staring at her as if she had suddenly sprouted horns. She was half-tempted to brush at her face or something.

Still eyeing her, Ulric eased out of his chair and grasped his little sister by the shoulders, looking her over from head to toe.

"What happened to you?" he demanded.

"Whatever are you talking about?" Now, she was really confused. "There's nothing wrong with me. Have you gone daft?"

One large hand squeezed her jaws and he turned her head from side to side, studying her as if she was some rare object. "You used to be.....chubby."

"I was never chubby, you idiot." Completely outraged, Ryia shove out of his grip and gasped. "And did you honestly expect me to look the same after all this time? I'm a woman now. A married woman, in case you've forgotten."

For some odd reason, he found himself chuckling and he did not know why. He certainly was not over-glad to see his sister but he was mightily pleased to see that she was in fine health. She'd grown into a beautiful woman, much like their dear mother had been. Long tresses of chestnut hair hang past her shoulders, framing a face that was radiant as ever. She had their father's eyes, he seem to have had forgotten. Cool blue eyes the color of the sky at springtide.

".....wouldn't want the children to see you in such a mad state..."

Ulric shook out of his reverie and cleared his throat. "Children?"

Ryia let out a dreadful sigh and patted her dear brother on the shoulder. "You seem to have gotten awfully slow, Bryce." Bryce. It had been years since anyone had called him by his first given name. "You know.... Children. I happen to have two of them. Maliha and Joseff. I would have brought them along but I wanted to confirm first if you had wasted away here all by yourself. Heavens knows, you would scared them to death."

"Well..." He cleared his throat, unsure of what to say. He hadn't expected that news. He had a niece and nephew that he'd never met. Ulric didn't know whether to laugh or run far and never look back. "I see. And uh...how old are they?"

"Joseff is four and Maliha, three."

Still in the manageable stages, thank Jesu. Ulric blew out a low whistle and returned to his seat. "What did you come to say just now again?"

Ryia arched a brow, thoroughly stunned at how easily her brother had managed to change the subject. Shaking her head sorrily, she sighed. "I need your help with a matter of great import."

"What is it?" He was back to reading again.

"My lady's maid had somehow fallen ill so I'd had no choice but to leave her behind. I shall need your assistance with finding me a temporary maid for my stay here."

"Can't you just ring on your long-lost friends and ask for their help?"

Lady Ryia rounded the wide desk and stopped dead next to her brother, yanking the parchment fully and quite rudely out of his grip.

"In case you've also forgotten, those 'long-lost friends' are not welcome here. They've all hated me for ages, thanks to you and your bad manners."

Ulric gently unfolded her fingers, one by one, from his reading material lest she crush it, all the while scowling up at her. "Then ring for Edwin. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to assist you."

"Fine! Why do I even bother? I suppose I might even take an earlier leave from this blasted place than I'd intended also." She threw up her arms in a child-like fashion and stood akimbo. "Your company was sour years ago, Bryce, but now I'm afraid it has gone thoroughly rancid."

Flinging a long chestnut plait over her shoulder, his sister turned and fled the room, all rage resounding from the way she slammed the door to his study. It was the type of sound to rattle the teeth and leave even the shedboy in the far southern stable of the estate curious. If there was anything he knew for sure, it was that his sister had gotten some spirit...and had grown far more annoying for his liking.

Sighing, Ulric returned his gaze to his reading and cursed when he noticed that Ryia's fingers had smudged his fresh ink. He'd spent all morning penning that particular entry for the estate's journal, which had required extreme precision and tidiness. He couldn't possibly re-pen it now as he had other things to look after. Reaching for his tankard, Ulric took a deep sniff and drained the contents. He would have to put that off until after supper when his head managed to cool.

Opening a drawer, he shoved the parchment inside and then marched across the room to his private cellar-box and retrieved a flagon of brandy. He'd managed to uncork the bottle and pour just a bit in his tankard when the door came swinging in again. Apparently, no one respected his privacy these days.

Edwin came huffing in, hair looking mightily ruffled. "I hear I am to escort Ryia on an expedition."

An expedition is not what Ulric would have called it. "I simply suggested your company."

"Of course, you did." The drawl in Edwin's voice suggested that he knew exactly the type of expedition too. "Because maid-hunting is my expertise and something I desire wasting away my morning on."

"Truly, Edwin. Sarcasm does not become you." He poured himself a drink and regarded his friend with a raised row. "What you need is a drink to prepare yourself for your and my sister's grand outing."

Edwin glared but sighed with heavy resignation. "Mock all you want, Ulric, but I will repay you for this one. Mind you, I know your secret."

Lowering the tankard from his lips, he almost laughed out of sheer suspicion that Edwin would gladly dupe him. "You would sell me out to my own sister?"

"Isn't that what friends are for?" Edwin strode over and grabbed the flagon from his friend's hand, taking a burning swig of the liquor.

"No wonder I only have you then."

"Not that"--burp--"Not that I'd need to, seeing that your captive has been creating quite a ruckus down there since last night. If Ryia is to even step over to the west wing, my tattling wouldn't be necessary at all."

Ulric was already half-way towards the door. "And you planned on telling me this when?"

His friend shrugged, bracing himself against the cellar-box. "Like I said, it's not like I need to tattle."

Gulping down some more of his friend's brandy, Edwin slid down on the floor and decided to drench his mind away until the next few minutes when he'd promised to escort Ryia to town. At least, while a little lightheaded, he would be better able to survive the afternoon.

* * *

"What precisely is the matter?"

Ulric bounded down the stone staircase, almost skidding on a loose rock, as one of his guards stayed hot on his heels.

"The wench'd been throwing pebbles and sand at the door all night but she only quieted down since before dawn. Haven't even heard a peep out of her since, milord."

"Well, have you checked on her?"

The guard stammered a bit before managing one coherent sentence. "No, milord. She has uh.....quite a good aim, sir."

Coward. Ulric shook his head, his grip on his own torch tightening. It took them another minute to reach the gaol cell and he did not hesitate to slide the bolt aside and swing the door open. The torchlight flooded the room and he peered inside, feeling unbelievably uncomfortable as his guard hovered close behind him.

"Where is she?"

"I...I don't know. She was right over there the last time I saw, milord."

Stepping further inside and wondering what type of witchery the wench had committed now, Ulric trained his gaze on the room, spinning slowly...and then stopped. In the left corner of the room, closer to the door, a small body was huddled still and unmoving.

"Hold this." Shoving his torch into the free hand of the guard, he moved quickly towards the figure and stooped down low. Reaching out a tentative hand, he pulled on a slim shoulder and drew back at the burning heat he felt there. The wench was burning. "She has a fever."

"Milord?"

Ulric swallowed tightly, a raw unfamiliar guilt swelling inside his chest. Gently turning her over, he brushed the thick mass of hair from her face. Her complexion was ashen and her lips had developed a bluish tinge, all combining with the horrific sounds reaching from her abdomen. Nineteen, she'd said? What dire a circumstance could she had been in to end up in a predicament as this?

Reaching an arm under a small back, he eased upwards, the wench carefully tucked in his arms. Ulric was even more surprised by her weight. The girl barely weighed a thing.

"Go ahead of me and move fast," he spoke. "I suspect the wench is dehydrated and terribly starved."

The guard moved off instantly, glancing behind him occasionally as they went. "Where to, milord?"

"To the Odessa Room."

The guard's glance lingered a bit longer than necessary and Ulric decided to allow it to pass for now. Perhaps he could not blame the man, seeing that same room had been unoccupied for over ten years now. It had been his mother's private chamber after his father had succumbed to illness. It was also the only room he could place the wench in without fear of his sister stumbling upon her. No one entered that room. Ever. Save for the serf wenches who went in to keep it tidy on a weekly basis.

Sweat beaded on his temples as Ulric embarked the winding staircase and then down the long hall which led to the Odessa Room. The guard spun the knob, and then held the door open for him to enter.

"Close the door behind you and get one of the girls from the kitchen to bring up some water and cloths."

"Right away, milord."

Easing the slender body down against the cool sheets, Ulric smoothed away the girl's hair and looked her over. She did not look so terrifying while unconscious, he supposed. But she did look horribly sick, certainly owing to the cold gaol and no sustenance.

Glancing away, he refused to acknowledge that he could ever have been so cruel. Mayhap since he knew he was exactly that. Cruel...and sometimes incredibly unfeeling. He was a dark soul and he'd never needed reminding of that, which was why he found it confoundingly surprising that he'd actually moved the wench from the jail much less be making preparations to nurse her back to health.

The same exact wench who had broken in on him, blatantly held a dagger in his direction.....and even, rather bluntly, confessed her crimes against him. The girl must be a raving lunatic or he was. And as much as he would gladly admit to being an ass, Ulric was also confident that he was not lacking in good sense. In fact, he was just as sane as he had ever been and this lightheaded chit was a testament to that. Only someone with complete sanity could deal with someone so given to utter recklessness.

The kitchen girl came scurrying inside the room, some minutes later, with a handful of cloths, followed by the guard who was holding a firm grip on a filled washbasin. The door clicked close behind them and Ulric quickly withdrew his hand from where it rested lightly against the girl's warm cheek. He knew it would be a long day before they saw any signs of improvements.
Five

"It appears her fever has broken, milord."

The girl spoke rather confidently for someone who'd only been employed as kitchen help in his household. But she did move with a mature air about her which spoke volumes in Ulric's opinion. He had been watching all morning as the color slowly seeped back into the thieving wench's cheeks and now that it was a long while past noon, he suspected that she might be awake soon.

He cleared his throat. "Good. Uh...?"

He eyed the girl awkwardly, staring down his nose as it suddenly dawned on him that he knew the names of none of the individuals who were currently inside the room with him.

The girl gave a quick curtsy. "It's Anyla, milord. Is there anything else I should fetch?"

"Uh, yes. Perhaps some bread and meat from the kitchen. Some cheese too. And definitely something mild to wash it down with."

Anyla sprinted from the room and Ulric turned to look at the girl again, lying soundlessly on the bed. He could tell the comfortable rate of her breathing as every exhaled breath tickled the tendrils of very, very dark hair near her mouth. It was a luscious type of black, surprisingly shiny and thick enough to tempt a man into grabbing a fistful. Gaze now traveling down a slender neck, he took in the soft contours, as they dipped and slid over to form well-rounded but small breasts which were perfectly hidden by Anyla's expert hand.

His gaze lingered a bit more and then swept upwards, scanning the qualities of a delicate face that sported a neat little nose and a relatively small mouth. Moving closer, Ulric could a feel tightening in his chest that he had long ago refused to acknowledge. With a tender mouth like that, a girl like her could attract many a respectable men for position of a mistress. At least, that would have saved her from having to resort to burglary.

Turning away, Ulric pivoted to reach for another damp cloth when he caught his gaol guard's stare. The man quickly lowered it.

"What?"

"N-nothing, milord."

Ulric damped the cloth and placed it gently across the girl's forehead. Sighing, he resigned into an arm chair and scratched the back of his neck. "Speak freely."

"Sir?"

"I said, speak freely because I fear that I feel far more comfortable hearing your piece than have you gawking at me from across the room all afternoon."

The guard remained silent for another minute before releasing another word. "The girl. She said her name was--"

"I heard her." Running a hand through his hair, Ulric frowned deeply. Of course, he'd heard her. He'd have to had been deaf not to hear all that shouting while he'd momentarily stepped out of the room to take a breath. The wench had woken just an instant from her stupor only to scream a thread of expletives--none of which were expected to even cross a woman's thoughts--which happened to include one short confession of her name, before falling into unconsciousness again.

An exceptional name too, if he were to admit. An exceptional, contrary name.

"M-may I speak freely, milord?"

"Did I not say so a moment ago?"

The guard nodded briefly and took one cautious step, hands clasped behind him. He was a tall strapping fellow, possibly only an inch or so above Ulric's own height. Curly brown hair framed a box-shaped face that seemed as if the frown, currently upon it, was set in granite.

"I have met up with thieves many a times, milord. But never many who were wenches and even so, none ever so bold. Do you believe the lass to be sick in the head, milord?"

A deep chuckle sprung from Ulric's lips as he fully faced the guard now. The situation was not at all funny but he somehow could not contain the urge to laugh at it all.

"I believe she's lost all her good sense and replaced it with raw stupidity." He glanced at the slender figure and shook his head. "And by law, she should have been hanged in the town's square no later than daybreak."

"Milord." The guard kept his head bowed as he spoke, his tone neither disagreeing or agreeing.

Turning on his heels, Ulric St. Rosso gazed finally upon the room his mother had loved so much. It had been her hideaway. If no one else knew of that, then he did. Lady Katarin St. Rosso had been a lovely woman, one of the best. A strong presence and a dear mother and wife. But his father's death had broken her, torn her to bits that she had lost the radiance everyone had adored her for. She had truly died that day, if one were to contemplate it; only existing a few more months after to join her husband in a place where it is hoped all sorrow would be lost.

Sunlight barely made its way through the drawn draperies at the windows, specks of said beams landing scattered across the floor and sheets. Ulric closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and inhaled.

The push of the door took him from his moment of thought. The kitchen-girl, Anyla walked quickly, a tray laden with food in her hands.

"Milord," she said, quite breathlessly. "Milady and Sir Edwin. Th-they have returned just now."

"Damn it." Ulric strode for the door. "You two are to remain here and call for me when the girl wakes." And before leaving, he paused just a moment to glance at the guard. "And what are you called?"

"Gilgallon, milord."

"Gilgallon, it is then."

Ulric marched down the hall, heart hammering as he made to seek out his friend as quickly as possible. What he was going to do with the girl, he hadn't a single clue but he needed to find one immediately. He was halfway through disembarking the staircase, which led straight down into the front hall, when the large main door came shoving in along with his sister's voice.

"We shall have to try again on the morrow, Edwin," she was saying. "My goodness, I hardly thought it would be so difficult to find a good maid."

"Tomorrow?" His friend's tone was pleasant as always but if Ulric knew his sister as well as he thought, then she must have picked up on the slight exasperation carefully hidden within it. "Are you sure you're up for it?"

"Why Edwin, if you find it too tiresome, I can always try asking Bryce even though--"

"Edwin would be more than happy to accompany you again, Ryia." Ulric quickly moved down the steps and flashed a smile at his wind-blown sister. "How was town?"

"Terribly busy--"

"And more like a burning furnace, if you ask me," Edwin said, shrugging out of his coat. "I'd fully expected it to rain this afternoon."

"Edwin is a terrible traveler, is all," Lady Ryia said, waving a playful hand in his direction. "Took us the quickest ten minutes I could ever remember and the people are downright joyous. To think I was worried about them still hating me after all these years."

Ulric shook his head. "They never hated you, sister. It is I that they loathe. So do relax yourself. How about you ring for some refreshments while I borrow Edwin for a few minutes, mm?"

Lady Ryia looked between the two men and rolled her eyes. "I know quite well when I am being dismissed, brother, so no need for the smiles and good manners. We all know you are not very good at them." She turned on her dainty little feet, nose in the air. "I shall need to speak with you sometime, though. Preferably before dinner."

"I refuse to take that woman on another blasted maid hunt." At least Edwin had the decency to wait until that woman was out of earshot to say such.

Grinning, Ulric patted him on the shoulder. "Thought you'd have fun."

Edwin scowled and shrugged off his arm. "I'm happy to see you find this amusing."

"Hardly. But I need to speak to you on a serious matter. In private."

Brow arched, his friend paused in his tracks. "How serious?"

"Let's go for a ride, shall we?"

* * *

The meadows enveloping the eastern borders of the estate gave a wondrous scenery of lush vegetation, and the infamous ruins of the very first primary house of Chastelle's lordship. The structure, that was built some century earlier, was believed to have been set on fire by a allegedly wronged serfman desperate for revenge. Luckily, no one had faced the tragic demise a fire was known to bring and Chastelle's heir had survived to make the estate what it was today, thriving in wealth and prosperity.

"It's been a while since we've come here." Edwin shifted on his mount, a black gelding he'd favored for years.

Running a staying palm along his dapple-gray stallion's neck, Ulric nodded absently, taking in the cool fresh air. "It certainly brings back memories, does it not?"

"I suppose. But I wonder why you brought us all the way out here now. Is the matter we are to discuss so serious then?"

"Not entirely." Hands tightening on the reins, he guided the horse a few paces towards a nearby tree and dismounted. He then waited for Edwin to follow suit before continuing. "I placed the girl in the Odessa Room."

"Whatever for?"

"I went to the gaol shortly after you left and found her out cold on the floor."

His friend came up before him and sighed. "What do you intend to do with her?"

"Well her fever has departed, for one. I left the guard and a kitchen girl in the chamber to look after her."

"This is absolute madness. You are aware of that, aren't you? Your sister in staying in the same house. She could easily stumble upon her."

"I can handle Ryia."

"Can you? I spent only a few hours with her today and I assure you, she is definitely changed. I doubt she cares anymore about those 'rules' you've created years ago."

Ulric frowned, the heavy breeze batting against his face. "I cannot take her to the gallows now."

"I hardly thought you would have--"

"And I cannot keep her in the gaol either."

"I really do not think keeping her in the Odessa Room is sensible--"

"Which is where you come in."

Edwin gaped. "Me?"

"Yes. I believe you are right about Ryia. She has grown far more prudent and I think that is owed to an underlying curiosity that I wish she had not developed. The girl will recover soon and by then I doubt the Odessa Room will be able to contain her."

"What do you suggest then? You said so yourself, she's just a thieving wench. She'd never pass for anything else."

"She doesn't have to. It'll work out just fine. Ryia will be leaving in a week's time and by then I fully intend on getting rid of the wench."

Edwin's eyes narrowed on his friend as an idea came to him. Before giving it much thought, the words sprung from his lips in rapid succession. "Ryia is in dire need of a lady's maid."

Ulric shook his head. "That would never work. The girl is starved, not in loss of her memory. I doubt she'd be convinced to pretend to be a maid until my sister leaves."

Edwin grinned and gave his friend a slap on the back. "Now that part, I can handle."

"How so?"

"Persuasion, Ulric. I'm sure there's something she wants."

"To rob me blind, that's what."

"Mayhap you should ask her."

"Or mayhap, you should." Ulric turned away and shook his head. "The last time I attempted conversation with the girl, I was tempted to snap her pretty little neck. She's positively irritating, I tell you."

"Pretty little neck?"

Ulric's frown deepened as he turned, noticing a mocking grin on his friend's face. A clenched fist could easily rectify that but he figured the last thing either of them needed was bruised faces, and an interrogation by his beloved sister. "Just do what you need to do, Edwin."

"Of course." Edwin reached for the reins on his gelding, the mirth bubbling in his voice. "I wouldn't want you to have to wring that pretty little neck, lest you wish to see that pretty little neck again."

"Sod off, will you?" Ulric shook his head at Edwin's jesting and mounted his horse. "I need to go re-pen a few entries before I'm to face Ryia again. God knows what she wants to talk about now."

"Good luck with that. I should warn you..." Edwin hooked his foot into the stirrup and reached up, taking his seat across the saddle. The corners of his mouth trembled with impending laughter. "Your dear sister has also become quite the talker."
Six

"There..." Miss Darcott traced cool drops of scented liquid along Audelia's neck and smiled. "All done now. Madame de Lucci shall soon be in to see you."

" _What is this place?" The question had come out of mere curiosity, as she turned to appraise the richly furnished room. Everything looked regal, from the finely crafted armchairs to the masterly sculpted bed, covered in the most exceptional sheets she had ever seen._

The woman whom she had known to be mostly tense in nature, pivoted around the room with a broad smile on her round face. "Remarkable, isn't it?" She even bent to sniff on a bountiful bouquet and sighed dreamily."This is Dextrem House, child. A truly prestigious place and you ought to be honored to be invited here."

Audelia smiled, gaze still sweeping the room and thoroughly enthralled with its beauty. "But...why me? I do not know Lord Dextrem or his wife, and I hardly can believe they are familiar with me in any way."

Miss Darcott shook her head. "Do not concern yourself with such irrelevant things. What matters is that a very wealthy family has found interest in you and has offered to be your benefactor."

" _My benefactor?"_

" _Precisely. They wish you to be....their ward." Miss Darcott had approached her then, planting firm hands on Audelia's shoulders as she made to reassure her. "You understand that, do you not?"_

" _Of course. It is a rare privilege, I presume, for a person of my stature." Audelia grinned and blinked away the surface of tears that threatened to well up in her eyes. "I sure am fortunate to catch their eye, am I?"_

" _That you are, dear. That you are." Such reassuring hands then made their way slowly to Audelia's cheeks as Miss Darcott cupped them, much as Audelia had imagined a mother would to a beloved child. "But you must understand that nothing comes totally free and you must be well behaved, correct?"_

" _Of-of course."_

" _Perfect. So you must make the Madame proud, Audelia Rolfen." Miss Darcott squeezed her hand affectionately. "She works very hard, you see, to pair you girls with the best of benefactors. Therefore you ought to make an example of this opportunity. The rest of the girls' futures may well rest upon it..."_

Audelia's eyes blinked open, her vision a bit hazy as she welcomed the bitter taste in her mouth and the prickly sensations irritating her throat. Thirst was something she'd become a master at ignoring over the past year, especially with water hardly in her reach. But now, she scarcely felt as if she could manage to bear it. While she'd managed to live through such terrible conditions of life, she supposed no one really deserved to do so. If only she could get a bite of...

Shifting her legs, she made an attempt to move, her vision now steady as she stared up at a high wide ceiling. Stilling instantly, she frowned as she slowly became aware of her surroundings. Either she was lying on the softest bed she had ever felt or she was dead and floating off to the Heavens. Audelia was more prepared to accept the latter for no one, on first glance of her, would allow such fine hospitality. Especially someone with a fine bed as this one.

And if her memory served to be correct, she was still locked away in a gaol, and far away from daylight. Perhaps the guv had managed to hang her in her sleep and that would then make her very much dead.

But apparently, she was very much alive. Audelia hadn't pinched herself or closed her eyes and then counted to ten. What convinced her was the presence of the barbaric looking guard, the one she knew to stand at her cell door, and a petite servant girl both hovering near her. The guard spoke first in a brisk tone.

"Go get Lord St. Rosso," he said to the girl, who did as she was told. Audelia watched the man move closer until his knees were touching the side of the bed. "Have any rocks under those sheets with you, wench?"

She glared up at the man. "I hardly think I'd confess such a thing even if did."

Her gaze swept past the giant and towards a small table, where a water-jug sat next to a quite tempting preparation of loaf and meat. Her mouth watered just knowing that she was within its direct vicinity. The guard seemed to have picked up on her gaze because he shifted to block her view.

"Lord Ulric had it brought in for you to eat whenever you were to wake."

She eyed the guard carefully. "He's feeding me?"

"Exactly that."

Now she was just downright baffled. "And you expect me to believe that it isn't poisoned or something of the sort? Why should I expect your precious lord to care now for my well-being when in the last day he hasn't offered me much as a drop of water?"

"I've asked myself the same question countless times." He turned from her and went to position himself nearer to the door. "I am only doing my duty."

A soft knock came on the door and Audelia swallowed tightly. It must be the Lord St. Rosso, himself. Easing quickly out of the bed, despite her fatigued limbs, she moved to stand in the far corner of the exquisite room. As much as she found the bed comfortable and far from anything she could remember, the last thing she wanted was for the guv to see her enjoying his luxurious hospitality.

But instead of the formidable dark-haired guv she'd remembered, in walked a god with rich golden hair and a pleasing countenance. Audelia somehow expected civility from this one.

"Ah, she's awaken," the man said, nodding to the guard and then at her. "My name is Edwin Montagu, your voluntary companion for the time being."

Oh, so he was Edwin. "What do you want?"

"Just a word with you." He turned to say something softly to the guard, who left the room momentarily. "Shall we?"

Eyes trained on the man, Audelia remained where she was, watching intently as he surveyed the room with a reflective light in his eyes. If she would allow herself just a moment's observation, she might have found it stunning too. But she had to remain alert lest she get caught up in this farce. There was no way she could trust these men. What she must consider is finding a way to escape the place at the soonest opportunity.

"And where is your Lord St. Rosso?"

"Running errands, I believe." He paused to look at the food tray. "I suppose you'd be terribly hungry after such a spell."

"I am in no need of your hospitality." Audelia dragged her gaze from the tray and glared. "Am I to be hanged now?"

Edwin chuckled but his brows were knitted with slight concern. "You are quite eager to die, aren't you?"

"I'm quite eager to leave and if death is the only way, sir, then so be it."

"You know..." Edwin walked slowly across the room, stopped at the window near the bed and stared out a moment before facing her again. "For some reason, you strike me as the type of wench who knows how to make a good bargain."

What was he saying? Audelia took one careful step backwards. "I might be a thief but I'm no whore."

His brow arched only a moment, slight surprise crossing his features. "Of course not. The bargain I speak of is far closer along the lines of morality, I assure you. And I have a great feeling that you will be interested."

A tingling sensation at the back of her head told Audelia that she was in for quite a treat. A treat that might come back to nip her in the arse.

* * *

"The town air is quite refreshing." Lady Ryia spoke between slow sips of her tea. Tucking a bite-sized piece of loaf in her mouth, she chewed slowly. "Am I correct to doubt you would know anything of that, Bryce?"

Ulric straightened from where he was leaning against the closed door. He had fully intended on returning to his study to address the dealings of his journal when his sister had accosted him and dragged him to this room.

"I must admit that I don't visit the town regularly."

Glancing occasionally around the room, he was almost surprised at how unfamiliar it all seemed. It was the very same sitting room that their dear mother, Lady Katarin, had often used to entertain her many guests. It was also in this sitting room that the Baron Hyslop had declared his intentions towards Ryia and made their betrothal official. It was a room of many memories.

Lady Ryia smoothed her teal skirts over her knees and took another sip. "Whyever not?"

"Why does this surprise you when you, yourself, has declared how much of a recluse I am?"

"Hope, dear brother. It has much to do with hope."

Ulric marched past her and took a seat across the room much nearer to the fireplace. The last thing he wanted was to sit here and have a spar with his little sister. He needed to get back to the Odessa Room and see about that girl keeping her mouth shut and enforcing her cooperation. At least, until Ryia was to return home.

"Do not waste your time hoping for me, Ryia. You have a family with whom to occupy your thoughts now."

This somehow brought a smile to his sister's face. A smile that he hadn't seen since the day he had resigned to accept the baron's offer for her hand. It was a pleasing feeling that he was quite content with embracing silently.

"My Merek is a good man, Bryce," she was saying. "He's fully retired from service now, if you must know."

"I believe the baron is but seven and twenty?"

"Yes. Only a year your junior but a very good man, you see." Ryia carefully placed her mug down and smiled again, this time a staying one that fully transformed her stunning features with radiance. "He's already acquired all the land he's ever needed and we live quite comfortably over there in Harlbrook."

Ulric nodded. "I can see you're quite content with the life you have secured."

Rising from her seat, his sister took a few paces around the room and pausing occasionally to behold some portraits on the walls. Their mother had been a lover of fine paintings.

"Not just quite content, Bryce. Very much so." She turned on the tiny heels of her slippers and walked towards him. "And how are you?"

"Me?" Ulric frowned, not sure he liked where the conversation was suddenly heading. "I am content myself."

Ryia laughed. Actually, laughed and reclined her head, eyes narrowing as she studied him. "Mother had always envisioned you happily wed to a beautiful maiden."

"Mother had always been an optimist."

"Father, too."

Now feeling uncomfortable with such form of dialogue, Ulric jumped to his feet and walked to the other side of the room. "Are we to discuss something else but my very slim prospects of marrying?"

"Speaking of that, I did run into some interesting maidens in town," she continued regardless. "Agnete Galtran; do you remember her? She's the daughter of Vicar Galtran."

Ulric gritted his teeth. "I do remember the wench rather clearly," he confessed. "She's as boring as a rock and knows little of anything other than her father's dreaded sermons. Let us both agree, Ryia, that if I am to ever take a bride, she would not be the daughter of a vicar."

Ryia chuckled. "Is the daughter of a vicar too...virtuous for you, brother?"

"Am I to believe that you find irritating me, amusing?"

"Believe whatever you wish but one day I shall enjoy seeing you trapped in the wonderful spasms of love and devotion."

The deep rumbles of a chortle escaped its way pass his lips. "The day that happens, I give you full permission to run me through with a blade. And I am sure you would find great joy in doing so."

"Whatever you may think, Bryce, I do not dislike you." Moving quickly, she reached out and touched him tentatively on the shoulder. "You are my brother, my only sibling, and I love you dearly. My wish is only to see you happy."

He glanced at her through the corner of his eye and frowned. "I am content, Ryia, so will you cease with the subject of this conversation? I do have other matters to attend to."

His sister retreated just a step, the shudder in her sigh pulling at the iron strings of his heart. Ryia might be truly concerned about his welfare but in all honesty, Ulric needed her not to be. He was a man entirely at ease with his lifestyle and needed no interference, not from her and certainly not from a pesky wife either. He enjoyed his freedom and space, and was intent on keeping it that way for a very long time to come.

"I suppose I shall be seeing you in the dining hall later then?" Her voice was laced with disappointment and just the faintest of confidence.

"It's best you not to keep your hopes up tonight, Ryia. I usually dine privately."

Seven

Chastelle Manor naturally was a quiet place, and that was not due to its small number of occupants but for the very little social engagement ever occurring within its walls over the past few years. Such walls were well-known to be fences of silence and witnesses of the rarest degrees of solitude.

But today... A day of no extraordinary prospects, laughter drifted from the library and down the hall. It was such a surprising distraction that Ulric found himself striding in the direction of the chatter. The guard, Gilgallon, stood erect by the door, a flask in his hand. Ulric cleared his throat and the man immediately hid it behind him, and bowed.

"Gilgallon. Tell me, since when did I require a guard for my library?"

"Sir Montagu requested it, sir."

Frowning, Ulric reached for the knob on the door and shoved it open. Why on earth would Edwin request such a thing? Stepping inside the coolness of the well-stocked room, he was immediately assaulted by the scent of lavender water and his best friend's voice.

"It is nothing at all, Ryia. I am a man of my word, as you can see."

"I've never doubted you, Edwin. Who would have thought, though?"

"Who would have thought what?" Ulric interjected, glancing between Edwin and his sister. "It seems you two have forgotten to invite me to whatever you are celebrating."

Lady Ryia scoffed and chuckled. "Of course, I haven't forgotten. Edwin, here, was quite hell-bent on fetching you from whatever hole you've been in all morning but we all know of how much of a party-spoiler you can be."

"And you, dear sister, never cease to wound me." He placed a mock hand over his heart and gave her his best affronted expression. "How can I make it up to you?"

Edwin laughed and shook his head. "You can start by listening in on your sister's rants of gratitude. She's very happy this morning."

Lady Ryia giggled. "And you are far too modest, Edwin. You know exactly what I'm so grateful for. If it weren't for you, I probably would have never found such an outstanding lady's maid. Least of all one that is of such good company."

Ulric eyed Edwin and moved to take his seat facing them. "Ah. A lady's maid?"

"Yes. I don't know where he found her but I'd have never thought to find one so very well-versed and accomplished. And at so young a age. But she comes with remarkable recommendations."

Edwin chuckled and sipped on a tankard, all the while maintaining Ulric's eye contact. "She's an accomplished lady's maid. Her last employer also admired her greatly as a companion, as I'd been informed."

"And where did you find this girl, Edwin?" Ulric asked, ignoring the tick that was forming in his left eye. A part of him dreaded the answer he knew he'd be given.

"Not far from here, actually. I found her in an inn near the outskirts."

Ulric glanced at his friend for a good couple seconds, masking his disapproval entirely. "Then I hope all goes well." He brushed an invisible lint from his coat and smiled. "Uh, Edwin... I'd almost forgotten. There's a matter in my study that I would love your assistance with."

"Now?"

"Perhaps later. Around noon?"

* *

Boredom was not a befitting pastime for someone who, often out of necessity, had allowed herself not be plagued by such a privilege.

Eyeing the slim volumes of literature chronologically arranged on one plank of the tall shelving, Audelia did allow herself a few glances around the room. She'd been told that this was the lord's library. A room only himself and relatives ever used on occasion, and that was so only because no one else ventured there. Either that or no one else appreciated fine literature, science and philosophy. It was a room that much reminded her of another room--one she had dearly tried to forget.

Her fingers ran a course down very well-bounded spines and across several of such volumes, her palms itching to remove just one for her own private perusal. It had been a long while, roughly a year even, since she'd enjoyed any form of reading material.

It had been thus since she'd worn a dress also. And she'd never thought before of how uncomfortable such an ordeal could be. Perhaps, she had grown far too used to the freedom of wearing breeches. Freedom, she thought, cutting her eyes pass the many shelves across the room. She was far from being free, at least not for another week or so according to the bloke's terms. By bloke, she referred to Edwin Montagu or so he had said his name was. She was to behave in a civil manner, act as lady's maid to a Baroness--an important one since said Baroness was also the sister to the slighting Lord of Chastelle--and thereafter she shall be considered liberated from her crimes and be set free.

They were hardly terms Audelia had found to be agreeable seeing that she'd never waited on a soul in her life, much less knew how to. Perhaps it could be no much different than what she would do for herself, giving that the Baroness had proven to be not too hard to please.

The one wide window in the room provided a pleasing view of a garden Audelia had not imagined to be present on such a property. While within the confines of a dark dusty cell and a boarded up room, she had not expected the rest of the manor to be so comely, least of all homely. A man such a Lord Chastelle ought not to be allowed such fine a home, given that his manners were far from. Mayhap she shouldn't be the one to point out etiquette since she'd long since banished that from her very short list of attributes.

There had also been a time, even in its briefest moment, when she'd been proud of such an attribute...

" _I hear you are quite skilled at the viola," Lady Dextrem remarked, tilting her head in a very aristocratic manner._

Audelia glanced across the dining table at Madame de Lucci who was smiling agreeably. "I admit that I might need more practice, Your Ladyship."

" _Oh, you are far too modest, child," Her Ladyship chuckled. "I have it on a good opinion that you are quite the champion on that instrument. Your Madame has declared as much."_

" _And if I may, Your Ladyship," Miss Darcott threw in, "she is rather proficient at drawing as well."_

Lady Dextrem beamed. "Well, then. You ought to be proud of such attributes, Miss Rolfen. They will bring you a long way in circles like my own."

"A very accomplished girl, is she?" Lord Dextrem interjected for the first time since they'd taken dinner. His spectacled gaze had not left his meal until now. "I believe we are very interested on seeing just how much more accomplished you are."

A fleeting glance passed between His Lordship and his wife before he retired back to his meal...and of course, silence.

Audelia sipped on her broth and smiled despite her nerves. Such compliments were unusual and she supposed she ought not to think too much of it, lest she failed to soak up the pleasant feelings they evoked.

"Searching for something to steal, are you?"

Audelia spun immediately from the window--and her memories--to come face to face with the source of those words. Her eyes wandered over the man and she forced herself to curtsy; an awkward one, but one nonetheless.

"Milord."

"A civil thief too." He allowed the door to click close and then moved in for the kill. "Who would have thought?"

However hard it was, Audelia chose to keep a reign on her temper and bit her tongue. Managing another stiff bow, she moved around him quickly. "Forgive me, milord, but the Baroness must be in need of me now."

One hand snaked out and grasped her none too gently around the arm. Audelia's eyes widened, gaze planted on the manly hand enclosed around the royal-blue sheer fabric of her long-sleeves. It was a very big, handsome...manly hand; much like the rest of its owner but she was hardly likely to admit that. Not when her freedom was currently hanging by a thread, not to mention her wits.

The grip was then loosened and the Lord Chastelle lowered his hand.

"You might as well take a seat, Miss. My sister has not yet waken from her afternoon nap and I would very much like a word with you."

Gritting her teeth, Audelia did as she was told and took a seat as far away from the man as she could. It was an armchair positioned near the window. Too bad, the window was grilled from the outside.

"As you wish, sir." Damned big-headed, he was.

"Of course." He offered a daunting smile and reached for a flagon that had been left behind from his earlier sitting with Edwin and Ryia. He poured himself an inch and turned to face her again. "As you can see, I am quite at my leisure."

The Lord of Chastelle--or even so, Lord St. Rosso, took his own sweet time taking a turn about the room, examining a few books and according to Audelia's perception, possibly to check if any had gone missing. She was a thief, she acknowledged that as much, but hardly one to steal under the given circumstances or rather, the lack of profitable circumstances.

But the fact that he was moving about the room, ignoring her and expecting her to sit unbothered by the act, deeply offended her and spurned an icy retort that came far too late to withdraw. "I, milord, on the other hand, am not."

"How do you find the library, Miss Rolfen?"

Audelia's gaze flickered upwards and stayed there, eyeing the man as he regarded her with some air of triumph. His gaze was cool but somehow managed to burn a hole through her chest, revealing the thumping heart that lay within it. How on earth had he...?

"And I see you have accomplished the task of knowing my name."

"Not a difficult task entirely. A fairly easy one too." He refused to let her know that she had been the one to blurt it out, in a very deep sleep, last eve. "But that shall be our little secret, won't it? Since my sister has already seen it fit to know you as Lia Moresen, according to your colorful bogus references."

Her breathing steadied a bit as she pondered the guv's statement. Men of his stature always placed honor on their word while she, by experience, knew better than to take a man's oath seriously. "And are the terms, the ones your friend had lain out, to be credible?"

"Very much so, given that you abide by them. But I do have one particular request."

Lord St. Rosso approached her then, stirring a finger in his cup of spirits. He was so close, she had to tilt her head all the way back. And even then, from such a painful angle, she could still make out the tiny laugh lines framing the corners of his mouth. Though Audelia would have never imagined him to be of the laughing sort. She still did not.

"And what is that?" She managed that out coolly, and pass the lump in her throat.

"Do not form any attachments with my sister. I understand that she already thinks you are good company which we both know you are very much not. I am to understand that great lady's maids are hard to find. Hers is quite advanced in years and soon she might be searching for a replacement." He sipped on his drink and glared down at her. "You are not to be considered for such an employment, understood?"

Understood quite clearly, Your Arse. "I would not dream of it. Anything else?"

"No. You may take your leave now."

Much obliged, Audelia jumped to her feet, wrestling her legs to move quickly beneath the restraints of her skirts. The faster she were to walk, the sooner she would be out of the man's presence. In her opinion, Lord St. Rosso should be the last person to comment on the virtues of good company and the fact that he had, showed irony at its best.

Her hand had just closed over the knob of the door when his baritone voice sounded again. "What brought you to the library?"

She turned slowly. "I thought you'd already convicted me of attempted burglary, milord. Again."

He chuckled then, revealing a row of perfectly formed white teeth. Audelia allowed herself a glance at his countenance, silently pleased at the perfection in his features. Lord St. Rosso was undoubtedly a handsome man. "With your freedom hanging on the line, I hardly believe you would do anything to sever our contract."

A handsome...and far from daft man. Audelia looked about the room a bit before she met Lord St. Rosso eyes again. "As far as I know, sir, a library is built to store books, and books to enlighten the mind. If I am to be punished for seeking good reading material, milord, let me know so that I can better anticipate it."

"And what, pray tell, is your idea of good reading material?"

Audelia swallowed, her hand reaching again for the door. In truth, she did have a favorite in reading material. But the most reading she'd accomplished was during her stay in that orphanage as a child, and even that mostly only consisted of Latin and scrolls noting the teachings of the Church. Within just a moment of fleeing the room, she decided a honest answer. "Anything worthwhile, milord, and perhaps with the occasional hint of humor."
Eight

The first signs of sunset threaded their way across the evening sky, the sun's rays barely visible behind the high mountains that sat beyond the dense woodland, and far out from the estate's neat trimmings.

Audelia's hasty getaway from Lord St. Rosso had sent her hurrying down three turns of a winding staircase and towards the cool outdoors. She had found herself, some two hours past, enjoying the gentle breeze and the fresh aroma of nature. All the while, the robust-looking guard who hardly ever spoke a word, lingered in the shadows as if she hadn't a clue he was there. But she knew, for a following shadow was something easily detected especially for someone who had spent a great deal of time looking over her shoulder.

But what mattered now was that her treacherous heart had stopped hammering against her left breast and her faculties were back in good order. Surely, she had allowed her foolish mind to cultivate too idiotic of thoughts and wanderings. She was Audelia Rolfen. She was practical; and not one to give in to lascivious desires. Not that she would have described herself as pure, for she was not. A momentary lapse in judgment and sensibility had declared her as such but she certainly was chaste and had no problem with that.

She had had no problem with that until but a mere couple hours ago when she had been in Lord St. Rosso's company. Again. A very handsome company, at that. She had admitted to herself that the man was quite pleasing on the eyes and although she had come across many a men of his caliber over the past few months, Audelia had never met one so entirely attractive. She knew she should hate him, must hate him and she did.

But God save her soul, she was thinking of things she ought not to contemplate on, least of all to wish for.

Lord St. Rosso had wonderful green eyes; the type that could zone in on a wench and have her drooling at his feet. His presence alone served much to be intimidated by for he was a big man who had even bigger pockets as well. Pockets that she might never have the chance to reach, which is why she had fully decided to keep up her end of the deal as lady's maid to his sister and then go on her way. By that manner, she was sure to leave with her neck...and her heart intact.

Stumbling to her cramping feet, Audelia brushed pieces of straw from the back of her skirts and sighed. She had almost forgotten where she had been sitting. The east stable, as she had come to know, was a relatively large housing and the closest of three to the main house. Gaze flickering over the empty stalls and stale scattered straw, she frowned, wondering where the horses were. Surely the Lord Chastelle was more than wealthy enough to healthily maintain such fine creatures.

"Can I help you, ma'am?"

Audelia turned at the crisp voice behind her. "Um...no. I was just taking a look around."

The man facing her was somewhere near middle-aged, with a gray receding hairline and a stout-ish frame. "And who might you be, girl?"

Clamping her mouth shut lest she gave way to any vital information, Audelia took a deep breath and smiled, outstretching her hand. "Miss Lia Moresen, sir. And you?"

The man wiped one large palm against the side of his buff breeches before accepting the polite gesture. "Brutus Marchal, at your service." He then gave her a once-over. "You must be the maid to milord's sister."

"I am."

Brutus Marchal flicked his tongue noisily through the gap between his two front teeth and nodded. "I'm the main stable-boy for this fine piece you're standing in." He chuckled and shot her a wink. "Stable-man, if you will."

Audelia smiled politely and returned her gaze to the interior of the stable. "Might I ask you a question, Mr. Marchal?"

"Now, look here. Everyone calls me Brutus and I like it that way. So, Brutus it shall be." He patted his rounded belly and smiled. "Now, out with your question, madam."

"Where are the horses?" When Audelia turned to face the man again, he was examining something in the roof that she could not make out.

"This stable here houses mainly the master's broodmares, you see. We had them moved to the main stable, since it's bigger, so we can do some repairs. The roof's leaking a bit and His Lordship admires his horses a great deal."

"I see."

"Yup. Won't be until another week or so till the repairs are complete though."

And before that, she'd be long gone. "Of course."

"Perhaps, if you'd like, I can show you to the main stable to take a look."

"Maybe another time, Brutus," she intentionally stalled. "I do have a few roses to pick from the gardens for Her Ladyship and I best do that before she wakes."

"Not a problem," Brutus saluted, bidding her way to pass. "If you ever need some conversation, I'll be around."

"And I'll be sure to remember that. See you later, Brutus."

Audelia left the stable and rounded the corner, only to walk straight up into something very hard and unmoving. The stars circling her head lingered a little while before she managed to look up.

"In a hurry, are you?"

The blasted guard stood glaring down at her as if she had committed some crime. Well... "Get out of my way, you giant. What do you want?"

"His Lordship has appointed me to go wherever you go, Miss."

"I don't need a shadow and if I did, it would hardly be one as big and clumsy as you." The brute arched a brow. "Do you actually think I didn't know you've been following me?"

"Doesn't matter." The man stood, arms crossed. "What do you want with the stables?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Oh, don't be talking all nice now. I heard you asking about His Lordship's horses."

Audelia tensed, blood pumping hotly through her veins. "What do you think? That I'm looking for one to steal?"

"Not one. Maybe several too."

"And where, pray tell, would I put them? In my bosom?"

The guard glanced down at her modestly covered breasts for a fleeting moment before meeting her glaring eyes again. "I hardly know and I don't care. You thieving wenches have pockets the size of traveling carts these days." The guard stepped closer, almost tipping her over and off balance. "So, let's see 'em."

Audelia stepped back, wishing more than ever that she was still in possession of her dagger. If she had, the fool man would have been wiser to maintain his distance.

"Take another step and you'll rue the day you ever set eyes on me, you ill-mannered oaf."

* *

Ulric St. Rosso stared down from the window of his study, his attention caught on the fast-moving female in royal-blue garb.

He must be losing his senses because he somehow could not stop looking at her. From where he stood, he could make out firmly sculpted legs, imprinted beneath the flowing fabric as she moved towards the gardens enveloping the courtyard. Her raven colored hair, as he'd observed earlier, was tightly pinned up on her head with springy ringlets brushing against her temple.

She was pretty.

Shoving away from the window, he reached for his tankard and took a deep swallow. The liquid burned down his throat and settled heavily in his stomach. It was not an admission he had wanted to make but he had to, even if mentally.

Her dirt-covered face had apparently been scrubbed clean and her womanly figure neatly clad in cool light fabric. He supposed he should not have had judged her appearances so readily but now that he realized, disappointment sunk in his gut like a solid brick.

When he had stumbled upon her in his library, he had been standing there for several moments just watching her as she stared out the window at something he could not see. From then, with her back turned, he had noticed a rather well-curved backside and rounded hips. But no, it was when she had pivoted that he had noticed the unintentional tease in her glossy brown eyes and the tempting curve of her mouth.

By God, he had nearly been tempted to walk straight up to her and show her all that a man's mouth could do. Ulric had also fully intended on dismissing her from the room at once but when she'd moved, he'd caught a sniff of something pleasant. Something akin to sandalwood and the subtlest scents of lilac. By that point, his fool senses had taken over and he had found a good excuse to keep her in the room a while longer.

He hadn't been able to take his eyes off her then, despite his best efforts. So while he'd been contemplating on the fact for the past hours, he'd decided that he indeed was losing his senses.

Draining the contents from his tankard, Ulric slouched in his chair and sighed. A moment later, Edwin came shoving in with a tray in hand.

"How about a game?" he offered, pulling up a chair.

Groaning, Ulric glanced up as his friend placed down the tray of warm jelly-filled biscuits and then began arranging a chess board. It had been a while since they'd made a good sport of it.

Ulric reached for one of the delicacies and bit into it. "Cook is obviously trying to persuade my sister to stay longer. She hasn't made these since Ryia had first left all those years ago."

"Or mayhap, she's trying to add a little sweet to your bitterness."

Ulric chuckled, licking a trail of jelly from his finger. "After all this time?"

"Better late than never."

"Mm. Where were you?"

"I had a missive I wanted to deliver personally in town. I received a letter from Henshire."

Ulric sat up. "Is your mother alright?"

"The letter did not say much but I believe she might be more ill than she let on in writing. I'm making arrangements to set out early in the morning."

"Safe travels and my regards to Mrs. Montagu." Edwin nodded and although Ulric could not see his face, he knew his friend was worrying. Edwin Montagu was that sort of fellow. "If you'd like, I could ride out with you."

Edwin chuckled now and looked up, his eyes lit with sad humor. "And leave Ryia here alone? You'd return to see the entire estate transformed into a blasted ladies' pen. And you have a felon on your watch, in case you've forgotten."

Ulric swallowed the rest of his biscuit. "Ah. That."

"Precisely. That. Black or white?"

Ulric glanced down at the chess board. "Black."

"Prepare to be defeated." Edwin shove one white pawn two spaces up. "She appears to have cleaned up rather nicely."

Ulric moved one black pawn up one space. "Who? Ryia?"

"Your felon."

"She's not my felon but a felon." Ulric arched a nonchalant brow, studying his prospective moves. "And you've noticed?"

"You mean, you haven't?" Same pawn progressed on-wards.

Ulric shook his head and fingered the head of his black knight. "I admit, the wench looks rather...clean."

"And a bit easy on the eyes too."

Ulric glanced up abruptly to meet Edwin's penetrating gaze. His friend was trifling with him and he knew it. Tempering the sudden possessiveness that was coursing in his blood, he landed his knight two places up and one to the left, blocking Edwin's chance at taking his silly pawn. "A pretty little thief, then."

"If I weren't betrothed, I'd take a chance at her."

Ulric almost spat crumbs all over his desk. "You are not betrothed and you most assuredly will not seek favors from my felon."

Edwin smiled and leaned back in his seat, hands entwined behind his head as his smirk developed into a full-blown grin. One bearing keen similarities to that of a cat who had just found the cream pot.

"Ah. So now she's your felon."

"I am officially calling it so." Ulric eyed his friend and then returned his gaze to the game. Edwin was wandering on a path that he had no right to and that was what concerned Ulric the most. While Edwin had always been a sensible fellow, his seldom need to push boundaries had never provoked Ulric until now. "Now, shall we return to the game?"

Edwin obliged, leaning forward and studying his pieces. "More than happy to, dear friend. But I must warn you as I've warned you before, you are up for a bitter loss."

Forty-five minutes later Ulric won the game, with a tray empty of biscuits and a mere rook guarding his king.
Nine

"I may have tossed about a bit in bed last night," Ryia said, eyeing her lady's maid sheepishly. "It's all in knots, I fear."

"No worries, milady. My own had been quite a work this morn as well."

As if with relief, Lady Ryia's shoulders fell from their tensed state and a giggle surfaced from her. "Dear God, you are too comforting."

Behind her, her lady's maid smiled as she gently untangled a blue ribbon from the end of Her Ladyship's unraveling single plait. Combing her fingers through the braid, Audelia then began brushing through it, ends first. Her Ladyship had lovely hair, much like that of a dear friend. Much like Jocelyn's, to be exact. A friend Audelia had not seen in many months but still wished to perhaps meet with again if God were to permit it. Such desires, as she well knew, were not practical at all...for she'd heard that Jocelyn Bardeen had been wed off to the nephew of her own benefactor only a week after Audelia had left Madame de Lucci's clutches. Finding her friend's home was quite easy but speaking with her would be the difficult task, indeed. Plus, it would be at the risk of exposing herself lest the Madame was searching for her.

As she ran the brush through Her Ladyship's hair one last time, Audelia swallowed her own self-pity and prayed silently that Jocelyn was alright.

"Any suggestions on your hair-do, milady?" she almost choked out.

Lady Ryia shifted on the stool at her vanity and scrunched up her pretty face in thought. "I'd forgotten how casual it can be here at Chastelle Manor. And I daresay, I'd loved that very much as a girl. Perhaps a single braid will do, don't you think?"

Audelia's brows rose with surprise. "A-Are you certain, milady?"

"Quite certain." Lady Ryia smiled at her through the looking-glass. "I hope you hadn't thought of me as a pompous lady who had not a clue of how to relax and tone things down a bit."

Laughter bubbled at the corner of Audelia's lips. "Not at all."

"Good. But do tell me..."

"Milady?"

Audelia felt Lady Ryia's fingers close over hers suddenly, stilling her on the course of beginning the plait. Their gazes clashed unwaveringly in the looking glass. "What had you been thinking on just a moment past?"

Audelia frowned, breaking the gaze. "Milady, what do you mean?"

"Why, you looked positively perplexed. Don't you dear think I hadn't noticed."

"Twas nothing. Only remembering a friend of mine."

Her Ladyship smiled and released Audelia's hand. "And of what nature is your...friend?"

It took Audelia a moment to actually understand what Lady Ryia was inquiring. Clearing her throat, she began with the braid. "She's my closest friend, Your Ladyship. We have not been in correspondence for a while."

"And does she...live in town?"

"N-no, Your Ladyship. A further distance away."

"Mm. Too bad." Her Ladyship sighed as if truly saddened. "If that had been the case, I would have been happy to deliver a missive on your behalf."

Audelia looked up sharply, every nerve ending in her hands going stiff. "Y-You would have done that?"

"Of course. I've only known you little over a day, Lia, and look how fond I am already of you. You happen to be good company, especially in this dreary house."

Two sharp raps came outside the door to Her Ladyship's chamber, followed by a deep baritone voice behind it. A voice Audelia could not forget even if she tried.

"Ryia, it's me. Are you decent?"

"Speaking of the devil," Lady Ryia chuckled provocatively and rolled her eyes. "Continue as you will, Lia." She then cleared her throat daintily and called out, "I am decent, dear brother. You may enter."

The door swung open without even a sound and Lord St. Rosso, in all his largeness, invaded the room. Audelia kept her head down and persisted on with the braid in as much speedy fashion as she could afford.

"Ah, there you are," he said, looking rather dapper in black garb and impeccably polished boots. Even his long dark hair was neatly swept away from his face.

Ulric passed his gaze over his sister, pausing only a moment on Miss Rolfen as she moved her hands rather rapidly in Ryia's hair. He thought she looked considerably radiant for so early in the morning. Yes, he thought his sister's supposed lady's maid looked rather ravishing.

"And who may I thank for your visit at so early in the day, Bryce? It must had been quite a task for you to wake in such a grand mood."

Audelia swallowed. Bryce. A nice name, indeed.

"You may thank The Almighty, Himself," he went on, remaining steadfast in his position by the door. "I came to inform you that Edwin left for Henshire a little before sunrise. His mother, Mrs. Montagu, seems to have contracted some form of an ailment."

"Oh my. I hope she recovers well."

"So do I."

"Milady, shall I go fetch your bath water now?" Audelia asked as quietly as she could.

"Of course."

"Going somewhere, Ryia?" His Lordship questioned.

Lady Ryia rose from her stool and folded her arms about her white sleeping gown. "Yes. I have plans on meeting with an old friend of mine. Lady Shentil; do you remember her, Bryce? She'll be in town for but a day and had sent me a missive last eve. I am to take brunch with her at the inn she's staying."

Mention of such an inn brought Audelia's head up immediately, catching the stare of His Lordship as he regarded her with a reflective light in his eye. Bowing stiffly, she brushed pass him immediately and left the room.

"Ah, yes I remember her," he continued, venturing further inside the room. "The widow of Shentil, if I am correct."

"Exactly, so." Ryia examined her long plait through the looking glass and smiled. "I had intended on asking Edwin to travel with me but it seems my plans are soiled now."

"I'll send Gilgallon." Ulric spoke swiftly, partly because he did not want to allow his sister even the slightest of chances to request it of him instead. The widow of Shentil might be considered as good connection but, in his opinion, the woman hadn't the respectability to be considered a lady at all. There had just always been something in the way the woman spoke. Besides, if he had anything to say about it, he planned on taking full opportunity of being alone with his sister's dear lady's maid.

"Gilgallon?"

"Yes. One of my guards. He's a good sport and I trust him to your care." Ulric turned on his heel and just before he escaped the room, he said quickly and in the best regretful tone he could find, "I would have offered my own company but I fear I have much to do here this afternoon. Perhaps another time."

Ulric released his breath the moment he left his sister's chamber and headed directly in search of Gilgallon. He hadn't seen the man since yesterday when he had instructed him to keep a close eye on Miss Rolfen.

Miss Rolfen. Since when had he began referring to her in such classy a manner? The girl was anything but classy despite her new apparel, courtesy of his sister and her graciousness. Sometimes he wondered if he had missed out on it all as a babe, for kindness was never something he knew well how to offer.

He had just stumbled down the short hall and in the vicinity of the wide kitchens when the scrumptious scents of bacon, eggs and fresh bread assaulted his nostrils, all surrounded by feminine chatter and hums. He had not dared enter this part of the house since he was a boy still licking on Cook's wooden spoons. And even at that time, Cook would have gladly spanked his little rear if he had overdone his stay. Particularly since Cook, who had been very much in her prime at that time, had known precisely that he'd bothered himself to be there only in sake of flirting with the kitchen help. Ulric shook his head. How much time had changed since then...

The moment he entered the kitchen and opened his mouth to commend Cook on such delectable aroma, all sounds had ceased and Ulric found himself being watched--and with some fair measure of horror--by six pairs of eyes, including Cook's. And even the serf girl that he could identify as Anyla, in her apparent shock, must had dropped a spoon or fork too. For some reason, Ulric found himself somewhat taken aback by the reaction.

"Y-Your Lordship, what are you doing down here?" Cook glanced awkwardly around at the the rest of her staff and wiped her chubby hands on her apron.

"I followed the scent of your cooking and...here I am," Ulric said, partially because he knew not of what else to say. The other five pair of eyes were still heavily trained on him, for heaven's sake. Cook, on the other hand, squinted up at him as if he was some sort of a lunatic. "Uh...I am searching for Gilgallon."

"Oh," Cook huffed with an air of disappointment and turned to order her staff back to work. "I believe he's off somewhere. To the east stable, I think, with old Brutus."

Ulric nodded and turned on his heel. "Very well, then. Carry on."

"Uh...Your Lordship?"

"Cook?"

"While you are here..." Cook moved quickly, her shirts swishing around her short stout frame. Ulric could even make out the faintest dusts of flour in her lightly graying hair. "How do you like your eggs, milord?"

Ulric glanced at the woman. A woman, who he could remember, had been kind and amiable to him while growing up. A woman he'd adored not only as a friend but more like a dear cousin or an aunt. But things seemed to have changed somewhere along the lines of time. That, or it was he who had changed.

"Never fried," he admitted lightly. "But hard-boiled, as usual."

Cook seemed to have been satisfied with his answer because she bowed graciously and went about her business with a wide smile on her face. Ulric would have taken credit for putting such a beam on her face except his own sudden qualms had prevented him from doing so.

Thanking God, and his ancestors, that the east stable was in comfortable walking distance, Ulric bounded back down the hallway, through the foyer and then slipped through a side door which lead directly into the region of the yard closest to the stable. Entering, he discovered the stable-man, Brutus, laying back in a heap of old straw and Gilgallon, reclining in his own. It was a troublesome, if not surprising sight, since his guard had been ordered to follow Miss Rolfen around. By the looks of it, the man was blatantly disobeying Ulric's wishes...and neither was he in any proximity at all to the wench.

"Gilgallon!"

The guard's eyes flew wide open as he jumped to his feet, looking quite startled and a bit swaying on his feet. Old Brutus was already up as well, brushing at his trousers and leaving the stable in quite a hurry.

"Milord." The guard blinked twice and stumbled, bracing himself against a stall.

"Indulge me a moment."

Gilgallon nodded and stood upright, taking a few tentative steps forward. "Milord?"

"Had I not requested it of you to watch the girl at all times just yesterday?"

"Yes, Your Lordship." A deep flush crawled up the grown man's neck. Ulric could not begin to believe it. "I-I have, sir. I must have fallen asleep somehow."

Ulric eyed his guard a moment, taking in the man's severely crushed shirt to his unsightly hair which was spiking out in all directions. "Are you drunk, Gilgallon?"

"N-No, sir."

The manner in which the guard had stammered through even the easiest of words, Ulric was convinced that perhaps he had been. He was also nigh convinced that Gilgallon's head would have fallen off his shoulders at any moment if he was not to stop shaking it so. Sighing, Ulric scratched his temple. "Never mind that. I suggest you let Cook prepare you a strongly brewed cup of tea to help clear your head. You are to accompany my sister, Lady Ryia, on a social outing this morn."

"Y-Yes, sir."

Ulric nodded and turned to leave, when he paused and glanced at Gilgallon again. He must admit that the man looked troubled. "Are you quite certain you are not drunk?"

"No, milord."

"And you'd not, even in the least bit, been drinking?"

"I assure you, Your Lordship."

At least, he'd said that with some grain of confidence. "Very well, then." Ulric turned away, content with his deeds for the day so far. Now all he needed was for his sister to leave so that he could have a word with a certain wench.

"Your Lordship? Permit me to ask, sir."

Ulric turned at Gilgallon's voice. The guard approached him assertively now, his gaze steady. "Speak freely."

"The girl, milord. Are... Are you certain that she is just a thieving wench?"

Ulric, relatively perplexed by the guard's question, regarded him carefully and with great interest. "I suppose you can assist me in that area."

Ten

" _His and Her Ladyship are quite taken with you, Audelia," Madame de Lucci said from the vanity. She glanced at the girl through the looking glass and smirked with pleasure. "Especially, Lord Dextrem. He is most pleased with your accomplishments."_

Audelia smiled and ran her palms over the front of her night gown, picking at her nail buds. "Perhaps, they would be as so kind to assist me one day with my aspirations of learning the art of medicine."

It had become a fine dream of hers while passing through childhood.

Madame de Lucci stood instantaneously, reaching out and grasping Audelia by the hands. "Look around you, child," she said, gesturing at the grandly furnished chamber. "Let me remind you that we are currently standing in Dextrem House; its owners, some of the wealthiest in this region of Bascain. And such wealth has selected you to be their ward." The Madame chuckled and shook her head. "Of course they have the resources to educate you on such a matter and even, then some."

" _I would be hon--"_

" _But you mustn't overwhelm His and Her Ladyship with such talk, Audelia. Not yet. It is best you wait until you've fully become a member of the house."_

Audelia opened her eyes, running her finger tip along the thickly bounded spine of the book. She'd not intended on entering the library again but when Lady Ryia had left some time ago, she had ventured here with the sole intention of finding something to occupy her thoughts with. It was either reading or allowing her mind to construct some plan of escaping Chastelle Manor. She'd decided that reading had been the more practical option of the two, seeing that Lord St. Rosso seemed to have eyes set on her from every single angle.

Withdrawing the book from the shelf, she ran her fingertips over the cool leather covering and across the printed title on the top middle area of the volume. Confessions, it read. An interesting topic. Flicking through the pages, she landed on a random sheet and moved closer to the window as she read.

" 'Give me chastity and continence, but not just now.' " Audelia frowned at the words and flipped back to the front to examine the author's inscription of credit. "St.--"

"Augustine."

Slamming the book shut, Audelia took a moment to gather her wits before turning. In truth, she'd had no need to move in order to know for sure who had spoken. It was a voice that haunted her at night--and day\--in very, very bad ways. If Audelia was certain about anything at the moment, it was that Lord St. Rosso knew exactly how to sneak up on people.

"Sir," she greeted icily and slid the book back into the empty slot.

"Ulric, will do for now."

"Pardon me?"

Ulric looked about the room a while, studying the neatly arranged furniture and trying his best to not intimidate the wench. "Call me Ulric."

Audelia eyed him dubiously but maintained her stance. "I thought your name was Bryce."

"It is. But only a handful of people refer to me as so. For example, my sister. She believes if she calls me Bryce that it might add a little softness to my character."

A scoff escaped Audelia's lips and she glanced upwards to see Ulric St. Rosso staring at her. His eyes bore an intensity that seemed to seep into her soul. An intensity that ought not to be there.

"Is this where my chastisement begins for being discovered here again?"

Chuckling deeply, His Lordship moved past her and retrieved the book she had been reading from. "One of the most eminent Doctors of the Church."

"Who?"

"St. Augustine," he clarified, flipping through a few parchment leaves. He then eyed her, deliberately trying to test her knowledge. "Though he had been a pagan at best."

"A converted pagan, sir, who stumbled upon the Holy Scriptures and became a believer."

Ulric smiled wickedly and returned the book. "You know quite much for just a thieving wench."

Audelia inched backwards. All of a sudden, the large room seemed as if it was getting too small for both of them. "You are an exceedingly wealthy man, that I can obviously see. And information is easily bought these days."

"It is, indeed." Ulric stepped forward some more, just to have her cornered. "And you seem to be a very educated thief."

Had he been researching her past somehow? "I never said I was ignorant of the goings-on of the world."

" 'Goings-on of the world'?" Ulric laughed heartily. "This is Philosophy, Miss Rolfen. A subject only taught in schools and seldom to females. What have you to say to that?"

"That you are far too inquisitive, milord."

"I have the right to be, Miss Rolfen. I'm harboring a criminal."

"Kindly step away and let me pass."

Ulric blocked her way with his large frame and folded his arms. He had grown some new insight since he and Gilgallon had last spoken, and he was more than ready to agree that the wench did seem far more complex that she'd been letting on. He owed it to himself to get to the bottom of it.

"Walk with me, Miss Rolfen. I fear I might need to have a discussion with you."

"What type of discussion?"

"Have you ever ridden?"

Audelia gawked. "A horse?"

The fact that she had asked sent all sorts of graphic images surging through his mind but Ulric banished them as quickly as they had come. "Yes, a horse."

Her mind scattered to a time when she'd ridden alongside Jocelyn on many extracurricular occasions at Madame de Lucci's domicile. "I've ridden a few times."

"Sounds like enough. We shall take a tour of the estate and have our little discussion in the meanwhile."

Audelia drew back, eyeing him skeptically. "You trust me to take a capable horse?"

Ulric chuckled and turned away, straightening his sleeves. "You don't know the grounds yet, Miss Rolfen. And even when you do, escaping is not a task you'd wish to test right now. Especially when I'll be no more than six feet away from you and on a very healthy stallion as well."

* * *

Rubbing the chestnut mare gently on the withers, Audelia shifted in the saddle and glanced sideways to find Lord St. Rosso staring. He'd been doing that all morning--on their ride across the estate and even now, where they were taking a moment to observe what he had referred to as the ruins of the first Chastelle Manor.

Green eyes narrowed a bit below furrowed brows, windblown locks of his very dark hair falling over his forehead. She thought, in the warm morning sunlight, he looked positively fetching.

"Her name is Olearia," he was saying, sending his stallion, Gray, in a tight circle around her.

Audelia's grip tightened on the reigns as the mare shifted with unease. Her own nerves were becoming skittish as the man stopped right next to her, only a hand reach away. "You named her?"

"Right at the birthing."

Ulric then looked out, and thank God, for this gave her a chance to catch a well-needed breath and perhaps to study him a little. Lord St. Rosso might be a hard man but he was certainly not hard to look at, at all. Or mayhap he was just being polite on purpose, which really made no sense to her since he had no reason to be. Audelia suspected something must have happened to summon this sort of behavior from the very same man who'd promised to have her hanged.

That or he was doing exactly what she had learned to expect from most men. Her eyes narrowed as she watched him.

"Am I still in line to the gallows?" she asked, heart hammering as she did so. He did not answer straight away but continued to stare out at the wide open meadow as if he could see something out there that no one else could make out. When he did face her again, a sly smile formed across his strong sensual mouth. It was a smile she could feel deep down in her knees, which should not have happened seeing that she did not even like him.

"I haven't quite made up my mind on what I am to do with you yet." The wind picked up a bit and swept a thick lock over his right eye. "But truth be told, I haven't decided to have you hanged either." Lord St. Rosso's gaze dipped to her lips, to her bosom...and then back to her eyes. "You clean up rather...nicely."

What? Audelia swallowed her gasp and scowled, praying that her surprise was not obvious. "What is it that you want from me?"

"To overwhelm you with pleasure, Miss Rolfen. Quite thoroughly."

If her mouth was not agape, then it certainly felt like it was. Audelia gawked over at the man and stuttered, trying to find coherent words to say but failed miserably. She'd heard men say words of such similarity before but never had she been the recipient and never had they ever been from a man of such superiority as was Lord St. Rosso. Either she was imagining things or going daft because she must be losing control of her faculties. Oh lord, the man must think her a tease or something of the sort to speak his wishes so freely.

"I'm no harlot, sir," she hissed between clenched teeth.

"Well, thank heavens. I had no intention of purchasing your favors. Shall we take a walk?"

He had already slid out of his saddle. "No. I think we should head back now. Her Ladyship may very well--"

Ulric lifted her as if she weighed no more than a feather and deposited her before him. A long raven-colored braid slid over and down her shoulder, springy tendrils framing her lovely frowning face. It took all his willpower not to give in to his manly urges and devour her right there and then.

"Are you daft?"

"On the contrary," he muttered, ignoring the fact that she was, in fact, implying that he was. He even offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

Audelia walked away, ignoring his gesture and headed for a nearby tree where she could find a comfortable seat. Blasted man. "You may think you can sweet talk me, but you'd better think twice about it."

Ulric grinned and followed close behind, admiring the way her hips swayed angrily beneath her dress. For a moment he wondered if she even knew how desirable she was.

"Am I to assume that you are not...innocent in the ways of the world then?"

She turned to glare at him before plopping down in the grass. "I'm a thief."

"I doubt many thieves talk as prettily as you." At that she rolled her eyes and looked away. "You are educated, that part is clear enough."

"Is this my interrogation?"

Ulric reached upwards and picked a leaf from the tree before settling down in the grass himself. He made sure to put a couple feet between then lest he scared her and had her running off like a madwoman.

"How'd you become a thief?"

"Not everyone is as fortunate as you, Lord St. Rosso\--"

"Ulric."

"--and some of us don't just live. We survive."

Ulric gazed at her, a pain visible in her eyes that he could not figure out but he intended to. Something dire must have shoved her into such a life of thievery and deceit, and it could not have been comfortable at all. Whatever--or whoever--it had been had hurt her deeply to cause such a pain.

"I suppose I should offer my sympathies then," he began, watching her reaction carefully. "I was born wealthy and therefore had no choice in the matter. But I do need one truthful answer from you." She did not answer but he knew she understood. "Where is your family?"

Audelia pushed to her feet, keeping her face carefully averted lest he saw the tears clouding her eyes. Family. It was a word that she hadn't allowed pass her lips for months, simply because it proved too very painful to utter. Lord Bryce Ulric St. Rosso was asking too many questions all of a sudden and she did not like it one bit.

"I have no family."

She could hear his feet moving through the grass, could feel his presence approaching behind her. His voice came directly, closer to her ear than she'd thought it was.

"And that's the honest truth?"

Audelia forced her voice to be steady, her feet shaking a bit in the riding boots he'd found her just this morning. "Yes."

"A likely story. Shall we head back then?"

"Just a moment." Audelia stood there for possibly another five minutes before she turned and headed back, eyes free of tears.
Eleven

"It was a wonderful afternoon, Bryce," Lady Ryia said, leaning against the closed door of his study and looking as if she was about to swoon. "Lady Shentil is such a great hostess, as always."

Ulric nodded slightly and continued to gaze out the window. Ever since they'd returned from their ride, Miss Rolfen had been avoiding him at all costs. Perhaps, he should have been more mild in his declaration of his desires for her but he hardly could have. The wench had managed to set a sudden thirst within him that needed to quenched. He shifted closer, making out her figure as she moved around the gardens, gathering a bouquet of pinkish-white daisies.

"Widow Shentil is not good company."

"Take no offense, dear brother, but neither are you." Her slippers clicked against the wooden flooring as she made her way over. "Lady Shentil happens to be quite the philanthropist, as well."

"And over the last few years, she's done nothing but become more and more scandalous."

"And," she continued. "She happens to be managing a school for girls. With generous funding, she aims to launch them into very respectable circles."

Ulric snorted. "Is my opinion of the woman supposed to change now?"

"You need not be judgmental. She's trying to fix her reputation in a very noble way." The annoyance in his sister's voice grew. "Aren't you worried about what people say about you either?"

"That's if I gave a fig about what people think, Ryia." His gaze remained steady on Audelia Rolfen as she brought the bouquet up her face, as if to sniff them. "They can all go to hell for all I care."

"Are you quite done ogling my lady's maid, then?"

Ulric smiled and turned from the window. "Not quite."

Lady Ryia pointed a finger at him and scowled. "Do not interfere with her. She's a lovely girl with a good temperament."

"She's also happens to be a desirable wench with a very tempting tongue."

Ulric moved to lean against his desk, ignoring the stain in his sister's cheeks. He'd always credited himself as a man who spoke exactly how he felt and with Ryia, it was no different. He wanted her supposed lady's maid and he meant to have her.

"There are several bawdyhouses in town, Bryce, with many willing females. If you want to satisfy your...needs, then I suggest you find one."

"Where or with whom I choose to satisfy my needs do not concern you, sister. Perhaps, you should be ecstatic that I'm not running around like a dog in heat and spreading my seed."

Ryia blew out a long heavy breath and threw her hands up in frustration. "My god, you are incorrigible."

"Thank you." Ulric grinned and planted a firm kiss on her cheek before taking his seat. "Now go occupy your time elsewhere. I've got business to attend to."

Ulric waited until his sister left the room before unlocking the right drawer in his desk and reaching inside. Retrieving the dagger, that he had taken from Miss Rolfen the very night she'd aimed to rob him, he turned it over and over again in his hands and smiled.

The scalawag who had been waiting and been caught beneath his window had none but blurted out her intentions on the spot and ran off at the earliest opportunity. Ulric hadn't thought it worth the effort to track him down, not when he'd learned that she was the one behind it all.

But quite recently, he found himself developing a strange liking for the wench. And it had been arranged to have her released once his sister left in a few days, considering she followed through with the plan. But he didn't see at all how he'd allow her out of his grasp. He wanted her with a burning sensation that threatened to engulf him. His manhood could testify to that.

Shoving the dagger back inside the drawer, he massaged his chin and thought on it. If he had anything at all to say about it, Miss Rolfen was not going anywhere and he was going to make sure of that.

A brief knock came on the door and he sat up. It must be Gilgallon. Ulric had been expecting him.

"Come in."

The guard stepped inside and shoved the door close. "Milord."

"Have you discovered anything?"

"No, sir. No one in town happens to know her. It's like she doesn't exist at all."

Ulric scratched his temple in thought. "That...or she's not from around here."

"Possibly."

"I shall keep an even closer eye on her then. Thank you, Gilgallon."

"No problem, milord."

The guard bowed his head and then turned to leave.

"Gilgallon?"

"Sir?"

Ulric shifted awkwardly in his seat and brushed at the collar of his shirt. "Perhaps, you should ask Cook to prepare you a proper lunch. I doubt the biscuits and lemonade my sister feeds on is likely to suit your appetite."

Gilgallon's face lit up with a strange brightness as he left the room, closing the door soundlessly behind him.

* * *

"My sister is off again, apparently." Ulric slid into the library, fully knowing he would have discovered her there. "Widow Shentil seemed to have decided to enjoy the local theater tonight before she leaves in the morning."

Audelia Rolfen's hand paused as she made to turn a book leaf. "Lord St. Rosso."

It was a cold acknowledgment if not any at all but Ulric moved in closer to study her beneath the torchlight. Her smooth skin glowed with youthful radiance, and his fingers itched to touch it.

"This is the only place I'm fortunate enough to find you on so many occasions. I have to conclude it's your favorite place in the house then."

She continued reading...or pretended to read. Ulric preferred the latter. "Or perhaps it is the only place I can go that I'll be out of the way of others."

"Is there anyone in particular?" Her gaze met his briefly before lowering again. Ulric smiled and took a turn about the room, when all he wanted to do was march over to her and sample those lips that had been tempting him for the past few hours. "Are you avoiding me then?"

"Trying," she muttered flatly, turning pages much faster than natural for any reader. "But failing terribly."

"You continue to wound me." Ulric approached her now but she did not bat even an eye. "But you must think I'm easily set aside."

"I have no wish to set aside what I haven't the power to move, sir." The blasted woman turned another page. "Though if you want me to leave, you have all the right to dismiss me."

Smiling, he took a couple more steps forward, the front of his boots brushing against the hem of her dress. This time she did stand, leaning backwards as she did so as if she dared not touch him. Audelia slammed the book shut and he gently took it from her grasp.

" 'The Romance of the Rose'," he commented, handing her back the book. "I'd have never guessed you were a reader of such...ardor themes."

Her brown eyes glanced slantingly up at him. "I may be a thief but I'm very much a woman."

Ulric stepped closer, so close she finally had to tilt her pretty little face up at him. "I've noticed." His gazed raked over her slowly and hotly, making sure she caught his meaning and did not mistake him. "I'd have to be a fool not to notice."

"Sir--"

"Have you ever been kissed, Audelia?"

She gasped. Yes, it was the reaction he'd been hoping over. Stepping backwards, she stumbled a bit, dropping the book on the floor. Ulric pursued, eventually backing her against a bookshelf.

"Do not come any closer," she gasped. Her tone was steely but her eyes vulnerable and needy and perhaps as desire-filled as his was.

"Have you?"

"I have." Which was the truth but he needn't know how many times.

"Then you should be aware of the fact that I'm about to kiss you now."

"N-no," she sputtered. "You mustn't."

Ulric reached a hand up to brush his knuckles against one warm blushing cheek. She shivered at his touch which sent a leap of encouragement straight down to his groin. "Because?"

"B-because I do not wish you to. Are you to take advantage of me when I cannot defend myself? Y-you must truly be the worst of rogues."

"I merely mean to taste that fiery mouth of yours," he clarified. "Not to lift your skirts and have my way." If her cheeks got any more redder, Ulric might think she'd be about to explode. Chuckling wickedly, he added, "At least, not yet."

Her hand came up fast and fierce but he caught it just in time before she'd succeeded at what he thought, by no doubt, would be a rather resounding slap. "Unhand me, you beast."

To the contrary, he held on and gently massaged her relatively calloused palm, using his other hand to tip her chin upwards. Her shaky breath fanned out against his hand, sending tiny tremors surging through him. Up this close, she was even more beautiful and his mind was already constructing images of all the things he wanted to do to her. To run his hands down that slender neck and free her of the restrictions of that wretched dress. He wanted to dip his head and suck on those lovely breasts until she was beneath him, hot and wet, and begging him for more. Good god, if he continued like this, he'd spend himself before he managed to accomplish anything else.

Easing much, much closer, Ulric fully backed her against the shelf and pressed himself against her lithe body, enjoying how she fit perfectly against him. Those small supple breasts squeezed against his chest, swelling above the neckline of her dress and giving him a wondrously delicious view. Ulric wanted...and he wanted right now. Pressing her captured hand firmly against his chest, he held it there, certain she could feel the wild pounding of his heart there. Audelia's eyes widened only slightly, her pupils dancing with surprise and just a hint of uncertainty.

His head had already dipped, angling towards hers when she released a shock gasp.

"No. You can't--"

Slanting his mouth gently over hers, Ulric swallowed her protests, tightening his hold on her as she stiffened in his arms. He kissed her slowly, nipping and tasting and sampling her sweetness, and licking on that trembling bottom lip. He continued teasing and taunting her, encouraging her until he felt her limbs loosen and her body leaned into his. When her mouth shifted slightly beneath his, hoped soared from deep within his gut and lust kicked its way downwards, causing his balls to tighten with need.

Good Jesu, his shaft was as hard as a rock and he ground himself against her, deepening the kiss and feeling utterly satisfied that she was kissing him back. When he eased back a moment, she was breathing just as hard as he was, her stunning eyes fluttering open slowly.

"Tell me to kiss you," he demanded, pressing his pelvis harder into her, making her feel what she was doing to him.

"I--"

"Tell me. Tell me to taste you and pleasure you. Say it." He pressed a thumb against the imprint of her right nipple and rubbed it gently.

Audelia's mouth opened slightly as she sucked in a shaky breath. "Lord St. Rosso--"

"Ulric."

She shook her head. "Do that again."

"Do what again?"

"Kiss me."

And that was all the encouragement he needed. Ulric lifted her off her feet and sat her down on the desk across the room, working quickly at the ties on the front of her dress. He shoved fabric and fabric aside until he had her small ample breasts in his hands. Moving between her legs, he bent forward, lowering his mouth over one pebbled areola and suckled. Audelia gasped out loud, back arching as she offered herself to him.

"Sweet," he murmured against her chest as he moved over to her other nipple and flicked his tongue over it. "Tell me again, Audelia."

She squirmed, fingers now gripping tightly in his long thick hair as she held him close to her. "Damn you! I said kiss me."

Ulric chuckled and crushed his mouth against hers, drinking from her sweetness as she met his tongue thrust for thrust. "Now, that's more like it."
Twelve

Ulric watched Audelia as she re-did the ties on her dress, not daring to move an inch until she looked up at him. He'd never imagined her to be so verbal in the throes of passion but then again, he hadn't expected her to taste so sweet either. She was like a siren, unknowing of the fact, in the most pleasing of ways. And as much as he'd enjoyed that she'd allowed him to kiss her senseless, he was not in the mood for any changes in her attitude anytime soon.

"You are awfully quiet," he managed. "Even for you."

"I generally am. In case you hadn't noticed." She finished with the ties on her dress and looked up at him. "If you are asking if I am having regrets, then the answer is no."

Ulric nodded, satisfied with the answer but still a bit puzzled. "I'd not expected you to be like this."

Audelia frowned. "How'd you expect me to be?"

"Screaming off my head right now, I suppose."

She chuckled, which also surprised him. "I permitted you, did I not?"

Ulric rest his hands on her waist and leaned in, his mouth inches from hers. "Yes. Yes, you did."

"Then I suppose that's it then." She glanced down at his big hands on her hips and tried not to squirm. "I should like to stand, though. My legs feel a bit cramped."

"Oh." Ulric lifted her down to her feet and took her hand in his. "Sit with me a bit, will you?"

"But I must--"

"Relax, Audelia. I'm not expecting my sister back for another few hours or so."

He was fastly becoming an avid user of her name, Audelia thought. And as much as the idea frightened her, she feared that she liked very much how it rolled easily off his tongue. She liked the other things that he did with his tongue too and even though she knew she should have rejected him, Audelia could not find the courage to do so. Lord Ulric St. Rosso was becoming too likable far too quickly. Silently obliging, she allowed him to lead her over to the sofa where he sat her down before taking his own seat. Audelia watched him carefully through the corner of her eye, swallowing as he invaded on her space, his large gorgeous physique so close that the side of her knee was pressed against his hard thigh.

"Do you not see your sister often?" she blurted, eager to break the silence but truly had not intended for that to have been her first utterance.

Ulric gazed at her and arched a brow. "You mean business, don't you?"

"I'm curious, is all. Are you two quite close?"

"Damnation, must you throw so many questions?" Chuckling, he reached to his feet and paced a bit. "Ryia and I are not the closest of siblings but she is my only sibling and I believe that owes her quite a great degree of my affection."

Audelia nodded, not obtuse to the slight annoyance in his voice even though it was obvious he tried to conceal it. "She seems very happy."

"So I've noticed," he said, sinking back down onto the sofa. "And I'm satisfied that she is. I must admit that I hadn't totally approved of her marriage to the baron but...I saw that they were in love even from then. For that reason alone, I had given my blessings."

Frowning, she shifted to look him in the eye. "Why had you not approved?"

His jaws clenched tightly and then unclenched. "She was young. Just two years your junior when he offered for her. I'd thought she'd needed more time, to gain experience with other suitors before she decided what love was."

"And you? You know what love is?" she asked lightheartedly. "I'd have never thought you to be a believer of such...ardor themes."

Ulric chuckled, intrigued by the way she'd spun his own words back at him. "I've seen love. My mother and father had loved each other. Quite ardently. When he died, she'd been brokenhearted and lonely until her own passing not very long after."

Audelia glanced away, focusing her gaze on a nearby lantern that burnt brightly before them. "A love like that must had been very great, indeed."

"Look at me," he whispered and when she didn't, he gently turned her face towards his. Her pretty brown eyes were flooded with so much sadness and hurt, his gut clenched at the sight. "Tell me about them."

"Who?"

"Your parents."

Jerking her chin from his grip, she glanced away again. "I may have permitted you to kiss me and...touch me but that hardly obligates me to confide in you."

Something spiked inside of Ulric that, for an instant, he felt the sudden urge to shake her senseless. "Do not toy with me, Audelia. If I did not truly want to know, I would never have asked. Now quit acting like a child and look at me."

It took her a moment to face him again, her eyes hard and angry. "My parents are dead. Are you satisfied now? I do not know them. I don't even know what they look like save for the evidence that I try so hard to seek from my own reflection."

Ulric remained silent for a minute, trying to find the proper words to say back to her. He'd never had much experience with consoling others, not even Ryia. When their own parents had died, she'd locked herself away that he scarcely even saw her. And when her grieving was over, he'd thought it had been too late to offer any consolation. Letting out a low breath, he took Audelia's hand and brought it to his lips, feathering light kisses against her palm, fingertips and wrist.

"Forgive me," he said. "If you wish not to speak on it again, I shall not bring it up."

Nodding, she lowered her eyelids and sighed. She then met his eyes again sheepishly. "I...I know a thing or two about what happens between a man and a woman when they are...attracted to each other."

A pulse ticked heavily in Ulric's neck. "Are you admitting that you find me attractive?"

"I'm sure that many females are aware of the fact."

"You'll find it pleasing that I've not made the acquaintance of many females."

"That's because you're a hermit." And she flashed him a dainty smile.

"And you have spent too much time already with my sister."

Audelia giggled and shifted some more, her legs brushing against his own. "I-I suppose we can try some of that." She swallowed visibly, her eyes on his lips. "What happens between a man and a woman, I mean."

"Are you certain?" Oh dear god, please say yes.

She nodded and reached for his hands. "Yes."

Ulric grabbed her over onto his lap, shoving her skirts aside and parting her knees so that she straddled him. Hands moving fast, he undid the ties she had redone so carefully, trying his best not to rip the blasted thing. For heavens sake, women's clothing was far too complicated for his liking.

A throaty moan escaped her as he buried his face within the valley of her breasts, sucking on the sensitive flesh there. Ulric was already hard and ready for her but he was damned well going to be patient about it even if it killed him. Dragging his mouth from beneath her own eager lips, he filled his hands with her breasts.

"Are you a virgin?" She was not at all innocent but it would not have surprised him either to learn that she had never been taken. As much as he'd been with his own fair share of women, Ulric had never deflowered a wench before and he had to admit that it would suit him greatly if he did not have to do so at the moment.

Her cheeks blushed hotly for a moment, as if with embarrassment, until she slowly shook her head. "No, I'm not."

Sweet, merciful Jesu. Ulric lifted her skirts and reached between them, almost shouting with triumph when he found her drawers. Ripping away the thin fabric, he pulled her down to kiss him, gently pressing his thumb against the sensitive bud he found at the apex of her thighs. Good gracious, she was already wet for him.

"Touch me," he breathed. "Take me in your hand, Audelia."

She hadn't hesitated either, reaching for the button at the front of his breeches and freeing his straining manhood. For a moment, she just stared down at it, eyes round as she gawked at his member. Ulric knew he was not small--had never been--but if she continued to look at him like that, he was surely meant to explode into a thousand pieces. To his relief, one slender tentative hand reached down between them, her fingers brushing lightly over the head of his shaft. Stiffening, Ulric groaned, his hips flexing eagerly at her touch.

Just when he thought he could not have taken it any longer, Audelia's fingers brushed down his length--from tip to base--once, then twice and then far too many times. Pleasure struck him hard and fast, swelling so deep that he had no intention of being the sole participant of it.

Gently easing her upwards, he raised her hips until he could feel his positioned length at the entrance of her wet heat.

"Forgive me if I'm a bit rough," he groaned, slowly lowering her onto his shaft. Her tight heat enveloped him like a blasted glove. Gritting his teeth, he glanced up at her as she bit down on her bottom lip. "I fear I may not be able to contain myself."

And with that Ulric flexed his hips, thrusting upwards and burying himself deeply inside her warmth. Sweet heavens, he must be in paradise. Audelia's cry echoed throughout the room and he pulled her down to smother her mouth with his before moving within her again. With every delicious slide of his manhood, Ulric sucked on those lips, swallowing her whimpers and passion-filled moans.

"Oh," she gasped. "Please..."

Her fingers tightened on his shoulders and Ulric drove inside her madly, guiding her hips as she rode him. "That's it..." he breathed, groaning as sparks of fiery goodness shot up his spine.

Audelia's hips bucked against him as she tried for dear life to hang on. She'd never felt such wondrous sensations before and neither had she expected such feelings to ever arise from the act of coupling. All she knew was that she wanted more. So much more. Gasping, she clasped her hands about his neck as he lifted her and flipped her over so that she lay beneath him, legs sprawled wide open. Her heart hammered heavily, her throat now tight as she glanced up at him.

She'd almost protested out loud when she felt him withdraw until she noticed that he was only removing his boots and breeches. Cracking her a sexy smile, he yanked off his shirt as well and dropped it at his feet in a heap.

"Missed me already?" he said, pressing his lips to hers.

"Don't talk," she gasped, yanking him down to her. "Just...do."

"With all pleasure."

Ulric plunged inside of her again, raising her knees high above his waist and returning his attention back to her nipples. Lovely nipples, they were and he had every intention of giving each a fair share of his devotion.

Audelia gasped, her thoughts scattering in all directions at the sensations that were currently sparking through her body. She'd never learned of intercourse until during her final days in Madame de Lucci's company and even at that point, she'd never imagined it to feel anything like this. Ulric St. Rosso was doing things to her that she could not comprehend, making her feel things that seemed so unreal yet real and very much delightful at the very same time. She wanted him, she knew of that for certain just as much as she knew that she had never wanted another man before. His lips on her made her feel desirable and beautiful, and even though she knew that moments likes these were all he offered, she was willing to accept them for the time being. She was willing to feel for a change even if it meant losing control for a few hotly passionate minutes at a time.

She bit on her lip as Ulric drove in and out of her, his pelvis smacking hard against her as he drove her to a climax that was unlike anything she had ever felt before. Her toes tightened as she grabbed wildly at his hips, urging him on, begging him to love her faster and deeper.

Something swelled at the base of her abdomen, sending a whole new frenzy of tremors skittering over her body. Audelia gasped, back arching as she threw her head back against the sofa cushions. But he didn't stop and she didn't want him to for she had the feeling he was about to take her to a place that only he would be able to.

"Sweet, merciful..." Ulric groaned, burying his face into the slope of her neck and shoulder as her feminine walls clamped tightly around him. He then felt her tense, going stiff as she dug her heels into his lower back and shuddered. Ulric allowed his hips three more powerful thrusts before a heavy shudder rocked his own body and he collapsed, thoroughly spent on top of her. He lay there a couple moments, carefully balancing his weight in an effort to not crush her, before he raised his head and glanced at her face. Audelia's eyes were as round as saucers, her lips swollen from his kisses. Smiling contently, Ulric pressed his lips to hers for she looked thoroughly ravished, an accomplishment he was very pleased with, indeed.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked when she still continued to stare blankly past his shoulder. She looked stunned, bewildered and satisfied all at once.

Audelia closed her gaping mouth and averted her gaze to his, touching a finger to the corner of his mouth and tracing a path across his strong jawline. "I think I might need another kiss. Just one to convince me this is real."

Chuckling, Ulric lowered his head and nibbled on her bottom lip. Temptress.
Thirteen

"There..." Lady Ryia tied the ribbons of the blue abonnis beneath Audelia's chin and smiled. "You have rather good complexion and must protect it, you know."

Audelia nodded, the ribbons already itching at her skin. The last time she had worn a bonnet was about a year ago; another requirement of Madame de Lucci's 'infinite ways of proper conduct'. "Thank you, Your Ladyship."

"Come. I haven't seen such great weather here since I was but a girl, and those gardens are calling our names." Hurrying through the foyer, Lady Ryia tucked her lady's-maid's hand in hers and nodded in greeting at the doorman, who opened the front door wide open for them. Bright sunlight flooded inside, taking the cool fresh scent of spring with it. "Oh, look. There's Gilgallon just now."

Audelia glanced over at the robust guard and frowned. The last time they had exchanged words was when Gilgallon had none but accosted her, daring that she had some intention of stealing His Lordship horses. The conversation had not ended well, as she was not keen on accepting wrongly stated accusations, and Gilgallon's manly parts had suffered quite a sharp meeting with her right knee. Audelia angled her chin as he approached, daring him to look her in the eye. Served him right.

"Your Ladyship," he murmured, not even acknowledging Audelia. "The weather is fair, isn't it?"

"Very much so. I'd have thought it to be raining by now."

"It's best you enjoy it then. The weather here has become unpredictable over the last few years."

Lady Ryia nodded, tugging Audelia along as they swept down the paved pathway which lead into the entrance of the gardens. Well-groomed rows of daisies greeted them, followed by patches and patches of sweet-scented jasmine, cornflowers and lilac. Audelia watched Her Ladyship as she smiled fondly around her, slowing her pace as they moved down the path.

"This had all been my mother's, you know," she said, leaning in to sniff the beautiful white jasmine flowers. "When my father had first cleared the area for her, this space had only been neatly kept shrubberies." She smiled and patted Audelia lightly on the arm. "Mother had insisted that she must have a garden, and father loved her dearly to make it happen."

"They were very much in love then?"

"Very much so." She adjusted her own bonnet and giggled. "Father was totally smitten. Everyone could see it. As a child, I'd prayed for a love like theirs."

Audelia smiled and accepted back Her Ladyship's hand as she steered them towards a bench in the shade. A meter or so from the seating, was a small round pond, dozens and dozens of waterlilies floating gracefully on the still water surface. Audelia sighed, enjoying the calmness that was suddenly engulfing her, trying her best not to think of the time when she had last been observing a scene like this. If only she had true control over her own thoughts...

"I feel as if I love this place more and more on every occasion that we are privileged to be here."

Audelia giggled, tucking her silk skirts beneath her as she sat on the edge of the waterlily pond in Lady Dextrem's garden. "It's so beautiful here."

" _And soon, it will be your home," Madame de Lucci cooed, tilting her bonnet back as she perched on the edge of the bench behind Audelia. "Lord and Lady Dextrem has declared so in far more words than one."_

" _Have they, really?" Audelia gasped and jumped to her feet, her pink bonnet almost toppling off her head in the process. "They have truly decided then?"_

" _Well, a ward like you could not have been rejected at all, Audelia," she remarked, patting the empty space on the bench. Audelia sat down, a delighted smile on her face. "You are beautiful, intelligent and very talented. Lady Dextrem has plans to launch you into society. By no doubt, you will make her very, very proud."_

" _I know I will. And I'll be forever grateful for the opportunity. However, I only ask that I--"_

" _Milady," a voice came, causing Audelia to glance up. The short serf girl bowed gracefully. "Her Ladyship has requested your presence. She says it's rather urgent."_

Madame de Lucci nodded and then turned back to Audelia. "I've told you before. You shall not be in need of a thing. Forget about the years you've had before and only think of the marvelous future just waiting to begin." She then brushed a stray lock of hair from the girl's face and smiled. "Enjoy the gardens some and then take a turn around the estate a bit, will you? After all, it will all be your abode very soon. I shall see you at dinner in a few hours."

Audelia smiled, watching as the Madame stepped back onto the pathway which lead up to the manor-house. Sighing, she inhaled the wondrous scents of the garden and almost leapt with joy. This was it. A couple weeks ago, she hadn't thought she would have been here, to be within the company of such esteemed individuals. But she was here nonetheless and she finally understood what the Madame's domicile was for. Perhaps, the Madame was not at all as bad as Audelia and Jocelyn had initially thought. She truly intended on helping them. Oh, Audelia could not wait to return to the domicile in the morn to give Jocelyn all the details.

" _Charming weather, isn't it"_

Audelia craned her head and tilted her bonnet back a bit. Now striding down the pathway was Lord Dextrem, himself. Audelia quickly stood and offered one of her practiced curtsies.

" _Your Lordship."_

" _Ah, no need for the formalities, Audelia," he chuckled, gesturing her to return to her seat. "We are soon like family, remember? By then you'll grow accustomed to calling me 'Uncle' or whatever you feel more comfortable with."_

She smiled and folded her hands in her lap. "This is a splendid garden. Lady Dextrem has surely cared for it remarkably."

He chuckled again, a surprising sound that echoed lightly in the silent space, and especially for someone who Audelia rarely ever heard partake in casual conversation.

" _My wife likes to think of it as her...project. It pleases her greatly to take a stroll here."_

" _Well, no wonder. The view is gorgeous." It truly was._

Lord Dextrem passed a glance in her direction and smiled. "I have to agree with you on that score. The view is, in fact...quite stunning."

Audelia glanced at him for just a fleeting moment and frowned, returning her gaze to the pond. She'd observed His Lordship countless times: at dinner, breakfast, a number of brunches and even at the local theater. To her, he'd always seemed to be a reserved individual with cool hazel eyes and a handsome face. But she'd only viewed him as an uncle or perhaps a godfather. Strangely, his presence suddenly felt a bit stifling and she could hardly comprehend the feeling.

" _It is," she muttered, making good use of a smile that, she was told many times, was also one of her winning assets. "But I fear the sun has taken quite a toll on me."_

" _You shall like to return to the house, then?" he inquired, his gaze scorching her face._

" _Yes, I would very much like that, please."_

" _Well, then." Lord Dextrem stood and offered his arm, ever the gentleman. Audelia rose as well, lightly accepting the gesture. "Allow me to escort you. Well, would you look at this."_

" _What is it?" Audelia frowned as he reached across her face and into her hair. She feared that she had been swarmed by some terrifying insect, and highly doubted that she'd be able to contain her good manners if that were the case. "Is it a bug?"_

" _Not a bug." He withdrew his hand and grinned, holding his hand before her face. A strand of beautiful yellow blossoms, from the overhead branches, laced his fingers. "It appears your hair is blossoming."_

Audelia smiled and swallowed tightly as His Lordship's gaze zoned in on hers. There was something in his eyes that she had never seen before and hardly could recognize. Perhaps, she had been in the sun too long for she truly must be dazed. Jumping slightly, she felt his finger graze her cheek lightly before he rest his hand over hers in the crook of his arm...and they walked on.

Audelia blinked a few times, now growing aware of the gentle tugging on her left arm. Giving herself a mental shake, she willed her heart rate to slow down and turned to glance at Her Ladyship, who was sporting quite a deep frown.

"My...my apologies, Your Ladyship. You were saying?"

"I was telling you of the fun my brother and I used to have here as children." Lady Ryia touched Audelia on the arm, her countenance drawn with deep concern. "Are you alright, Lia?"

Not at all. "Yes, I'm alright." She pasted on a smile just to seal the deal. "I was just caught up in memory is all. You remember that friend I told you about? The one I haven't seen in a while?"

Lady Ryia smiled warmly. "Of course. If only you knew where she was, I'm sure you'd visit her."

Audelia nodded. She did know where Jocelyn was. It was the risk of running into Madame de Lucci or the Dextrems that worried her. "At the earliest opportunity. So Your Ladyship, you were mentioning something about when you were a girl?"

That seemed to divert Lady Ryia's thoughts rather quickly and she giggled like a schoolgirl. "Yes. I'm sure you've met my brother on a couple occasions."

Audelia's cheeks burned hotly, lowering her head as she nodded. She'd done a bit more that meet Lord St. Rosso. Still, memories of the previous night threaded through her mind and made her blood heat with a longing that she'd never experienced until then. She had not seen him since they'd parted ways to their separate bedchambers, him to no doubt a luxurious one and Audelia, to her own just outside the servants' quarters. And at that point she had lay curled up in her small bed, smiling like a ninny, and replaying the memories of his tender sweet strokes and warm kisses over and over and over again in her head.

"I have."

"Then you know how...withdrawn he can be. Surely, the rest of the staff talks about it." Lady Ryia shook her head. "It's a pity though, for he hasn't always been like that."

Audelia cocked her head. He hadn't been like that last night either. "Really?" She tried to sound surprised by it.

"You'd best believe it, Lia. When we were children, Bryce was a darling. He loved company and had many friends. We played together in this garden until Mother had promised to give us both a proper spanking." Lady Ryia laughed, a hearty laugh that brought tears to her eyes. "I had ripped far too many gowns and he had completely worn out the seats of his trousers."

Audelia chuckled, trying to picture Lord St. Rosso as a boy with his beautiful green eyes and charming face. He possibly had been a pretty little fellow back then. "Sounds as if you had a great childhood."

"We did," she remarked, her smile short-lived and quickly growing into a dejected frown. "I believe...everything changed when Father passed. Mother had been inconsolable. So was I, if I am to truly admit it." Lady Ryia smiled sadly then, a thin film of tears glossing over her cool blue eyes. "I was only twelve then...and Bryce, sixteen. At that point, he'd assumed the position of Lord Chastelle and all the duties that came along with it."

Audelia supposed those were tender ages to lose a parent in aristocratic circles, and none at all surprising where she came from. She'd met hundreds of orphans like herself while growing up and had begun to accept that it was natural in families which sat at the lowest stages of the social ladder. At the end of the day, they were all just thrown into orphanages until they turned eighteen. In circles like this, at least the children of deceased aristocrats were left with a home they could call their own.

"It must had been truly hard on you. Both of you," Audelia uttered, fighting back her own tears. Audelia knew she could offer more than empathy for she was an orphan as well. Perhaps she was a little like His Lordship, in a sense. She did not know quite well how to offer sympathies. "I...I lost my parents a long time ago too."

A tear trickled down Lady Ryia's cheek and she swiped it away to glance over at her lady's maid. "You-you must miss them terribly."

"If only I knew them any at all." Audelia sniffled and smiled, trying to cheer herself with the sole intent of easing Her Ladyship's obvious pain. "But I suppose it's no use thinking of the past now. You have a family. One that I am sure adores you. And a husband who loves you dearly, if I am correct."

Lady Ryia chuckled and patted her fingertips beneath her damp eyes, smoothing away the tears. She then giggled and bumped her shoulder against Audelia's in a friendly manner. "I am quite happy to have found you for a lady's maid while I am here, Lia," she expressed rather fondly "I do not think I have ever discovered a more gentler and kinder company than yours."

Audelia smiled, her insides warming at the compliment. Lady Ryia was a good person with a gentle, caring soul, and once again reminding her of a most beloved friend.
Fourteen

Turning the last page of the book she had borrowed from the library, Audelia yawned and placed it on the small table next to the head of the bed. Her candle was already half-burnt, its steady flame gently illuminating the room. Audelia feared that she did not like the darkness overmuch and tried her best not disturb the imaginary creatures that lay within it.

"Oh, stop it," she softly scolded herself. "You are not a child any longer."

Pulling the warm cotton sheets up to her chin, Audelia sighed and dared not to close her eyes. Instead, she allowed her mind to be captivated by thoughts of Ulric St. Rosso. Bryce. She liked that name for him. His sister had been correct. It did add a softness to his character that she was beginning to think had been there all along. She also saw herself being partial to a man like him. Gads, she already liked him.

There was no denying the attraction she felt whenever he cornered her, and the look in his eyes alone told her that the feeling must be mutual. But Audelia was not naive either to hope for a love match from a man such as the Lord Chastelle. He was a wealthy aristocrat from birth and she, she was nothing but an orphan from the common villages of Camden. A runaway. A thief.

Audelia turned on her side, watching the flame as it danced, molten wax slipping down the length of the candle and into the saucer that held it. She knew she shouldn't want more than what he was offering but a tiny space in her heart triggered sparks of hope with each passing hour.

A tap came on her door so gently that Audelia had almost missed it. Glancing up, she frowned, listening. The tap came again and she quietly eased out of bed, taking the candle with her. Pressing her ear close to the cool wooden door, she curved her hand around the flame, lest it was to blow out.

"Who is it?"

The smooth sensual voice that came afterwards sent a jolt of electricity straight down into her toes. "Unlock your door before I manage to wake the entire house."

Shuffling clumsily, she slid the bolt aside and opened it to see Lord St. Rosso taking up the entire entrance. "C-come in."

"I hardly thought you'd leave me standing here on so cold a night." Ulric smiled and stepped over the threshold, his hands clasped behind him. In truth, it was the only thing he could do to save himself from thrusting his lustful hands all over her body. "Couldn't not sleep, could you?"

Audelia took a wide path around him and placed down the candle. "I was reading."

"About romance again?"

"Medicine, actually."

She sat down on the edge of the bed, now at a good enough distance where she could watch him comfortably. Ulric St. Rosso was certainly not overdressed. In fact, he looked as if he'd come to see her straight from his own bed. His white long-sleeved cotton shirt seemed as if it had simply been thrown on, the neckline unbuttoned and revealing a portion of a smooth wide chest. His breeches were also folded at his knees, exposing well-formed and very, very naked legs. Sweet heavens, his feet were bare. Audelia swallowed and forced her gaze elsewhere, anywhere but on him.

"Medicine?" Ulric raised a brow and chuckled. "You read about philosophy, romance...and now medicine. Are you still expecting me to remain convinced that you are just an average wench?"

"We are all entitled to our own opinions," she muttered, breath jilting as she watched him move closer. "Medicine happens to be a long-time interest of mine."

"So, you'd aspired to be a physician then?" He sat next to her, pulling her hands into his.

"Yes." Audelia watched his thumbs as they moved slowly over her palms, gently kneading the area. "It was what I'd dreamed of."

Ulric brought one trembling palm up to his jaw and turned his face into it, kissing the inside of her wrist. "An ambitious dream, that was."

"I suppose."

"I missed you dreadfully today."

Audelia licked her drying lips, startled at his confession. Men like him were not supposed to be so open with expressing their feelings. "I thought you were avoiding me."

"Hardly. My sister had you in tow for the entire blasted day. I was almost ready to steal you away from her selfish clutches."

Audelia chuckled, reveling in the way his lips felt against her skin. "But then you'd have to come up with a plausible excuse as to why you were in need of a lady's maid."

"That too. My dignity would have suffered greatly."

Smiling, she slowly pulled back her hand and quickly glanced down at her thin white nightgown. Instinctively, her arms went upwards, folding about her breasts. The last time they had been together, his gaze had not been so painfully thorough and Audelia feared that she might lose all the courage she had carefully cultivated over the past year.

"Why'd you come?"

Ulric pulled Audelia's arms from their firm hold about herself and moved in just a bit closer, tipping her chin so that she looked him in the eyes. "I should think that was rather obvious. My day has been miserable." He then lowered his head and murmured against her sweet lips, "I've missed these."

"I'd missed you too."

Pulling back, he raised one skeptic brow. "Did you, really?"

She nodded, reaching for his hard muscular shoulders. "I did."

"Why not seek me out then? You knew where to find me."

"That would have hardly been proper."

Tracing a finger down Audelia's neck and slipping it inside the neckline of her gown, Ulric teased the soft flesh of her breasts, never missing the low eager gasps that rushed pass those luscious lips.

" 'Proper'?" Hardly the word he'd expected from her mouth. He nipped at the corner of her mouth and brushed his thumbs over the pebbled imprints of her nipples. "I am not a proper man, Audelia. This...is not proper. And the things I want to do to you is very far from it."

Swallowing, Audelia released a throaty moan as Ulric's forefinger and thumb did marvelous things to her right nipple. "What...what things?"

Covering her mouth with his, Ulric crushed her slender body against his, his hand slipping beneath the hem of her gown, and yanking the fabric up over her blessedly cool naked thighs.

"Do you want me?" he breathed against her neck, longing to hear her say the words that would set his blood on fire. "Say it."

"I want you. Please..."

Ulric lifted her and dumped her lightly in the middle of the bed, her raised hem giving him quite a pretty view of her dainty little drawers. That would have to go very soon. His hands worked easily and quickly, easing the nightgown up and over her head, her small breasts jiggling teasingly by the movement. Sliding over her length, he took one hard nipple in his mouth and sucked hard, grinding against her as small feminine fingers gripped into the hair at his nape.

"Say my name, Audelia," he whispered fervently against her smooth skin. "Tell me what you want."

She sighed and wrapped her thighs about his waist. "Touch me, Bryce."

Groaning, he slipped a hand between them, reaching inside her drawers. His fingers brushed through the low soft curls that he found there and then pressed firmly against her hard bud. Audelia's hips shot off the bed but he held her firm, teasing and taunting her as she writhed and squirmed beneath him. Good heavens, she was so very passionate, an attribute that did not serve well in dampening his growing ego. Passion such as this was certain to keep him coming back to her bedchamber for more and more...and damned more.

Ulric slid his tongue inside of her mouth, thoroughly pleased when Audelia pulled him in closer and took control. Her small wicked tongue swept in and sparred with his own, teasing him back into an ardent kiss. Slipping two fingers inside her already damp heat, Ulric hissed a low curse and pumped in and out, feeling the tremors that coursed her body.

"Oh god," she gasped, clutching on to his shoulders tightly, her low nails biting into his skin. "That feels... That feels... Oh! Oh my..."

Audelia squeezed her eyes shut, reaching for Ulric's hand where it was doing deliciously wicked things to her body. She yanked on his wrist and he obliged, looking down at her with a satisfied grin.

"I'll only do what you permit me to do," he said, brushing his mouth across her sweat dampened cheek.

"I want to feel you," she panted, swallowing deeply and trying to catch her breath. "Let me feel you."

Ulric rolled to the side and eased from the bed, yanking off his shirt in record speed. He could feel her gaze on him just as much as he could see it, and his manhood twitched at the very thought of it, its head straining at the front of his loose breeches, raring to go. Slowly unbuttoning his trousers, Ulric watched her as she watched him, her glossy brown eyes eager and showing him just a hint of the pleasures he would be accomplishing tonight.

"You stare so boldly," he stated, sliding the garment down his thighs and kicking them off his feet.

"And you tease."

Audelia's chest was still moving in a rhythmic heave, her fingers unknowingly and gently tugging on one ripe nipple. The action aroused Ulric to the brink and he moved in on her and pinned said hand down above her head, licking at the nipple. "You are a wicked woman."

Before she could even take another breath, Ulric found his way back between her accommodating thighs and pressed deep until every glorious inch of his length was buried to the hilt inside her sweetness.

Audelia's moans echoed in his ears, growing louder and louder with every firm thrust of his hips. He kissed her then, swallowing her fervent whimpers and sighs. If they were in his own bedchamber, Ulric would have allowed her to scream and groan all she wanted and as loudly as she wished. But as much as he loved the way she moaned in effect of his own doing, Ulric hardly desired to wake the servants who were less than two doors away in this otherwise silent night.

Holding her tightly to him, he continued to kiss her senseless. He pushed her legs even further apart as he pounded harder and harder inside of her until she was shaking like a leaf beneath him, clutching to his body as if her very life depended on it. It was not much longer that her nails sunk deeper into his back, stilled for a blinding moment...and then her damp beautiful body went totally limp.

Ulric gasped, releasing a wild curse and then whispered her name as he released his seed deep inside her womb. When he rolled off her, his own limbs felt weak, his strength drained and he pulled her over onto his chest before succumbing to sleep.

*

Some time later, Audelia's eyes fluttered open, her gaze taking in the complete darkness that filled the room. She could not make out a thing except for the warm wide chest that cushioned her cheek and the strong heartbeat that echoed within it. One strong masculine arm circled her waist, providing a protective embrace that she had never had before. But the feeling was a good one, to be in the arms of man. A man who made her feel so many heartwarming things. A man who pleasured her beyond comprehension and with very little restraint. Closing her eyes, Audelia inhaled lightly, taking in his manly scent of rich spices, leather and a hint of lavender.

"How are you feeling?" His deep voice rumbled softly against her ear and her eyes shot open again.

"How'd you know I was awake?"

"Because I am and your breathing has changed." Ulric shifted on the bed which, more than likely, was far too small to be comfortable for a man of his size. But if that were the case, he gave no indication of the fact. "Are you alright?"

"I'm okay. Just thinking."

His palm caressed her lower back gently, tracing small circles against her skin. "About?"

"Medicine."

Ulric chuckled and pulled her over on top of him, his hardening manhood pressing between her legs. "That's hardly what a man would like to hear after a proper coupling session. Are you trying to think up ways of how to poison me?"

Audelia beamed and pressed her lips against his own smiling mouth. "I was only jesting," she giggled softly, cupping his right jaw. The light regrowth of beard along his cheeks and chin tickled her palm and teased her fingertips. "I was only thinking of you."

"Now you mean to sweet talk me, don't you?" Ulric touched a finger to her sex, pleased to find her wet there, and then lifted her hips, sliding her down onto his burgeoning shaft. "I, for one, mean to make you think of nothing else."

Fifteen

Ulric handed his sister up into the carriage and pressed a kiss to her cheek. It wasn't a gesture he had done much over the last few years that they'd shared the same home, and he found himself trying to at least make up for it a little.

Ryia's mouth dropped open and she grabbed on to his shirt sleeve, eyeing him suspiciously. "Are you sick?"

Chuckling, Ulric unfolded her dainty fingers from his clothing. "Possibly."

"You are acting...courteous. Should I be worried?"

"Can't you just accept my kindness?" He flashed a slanting smile and stepped back. "Chivalry isn't dead, you know?"

"Oh, I know it isn't dead," she remarked, adjusting her light green bonnet. "But you certainly must give me a moment or two to adjust to this...sudden change. In the meanwhile, I shall stick to my theory."

"Theory?"

"Yes. You have either hit your head on something this morning or the Good Lord had paid you a very special visit last night."

Grinning, he shoved the carriage door close and nodded to the coachman. "Enjoy your outing, sister."

Ryia pulled the white silky curtains aside and beamed through the window. "It isn't too late to change your mind, you know. I daresay Miss Agnete Galtran would love to meet your...reformed company."

Ulric snorted. "Miss Agnete Galtran is a bad-tempered lass who ought to be locked in a nunnery."

"Bless you, Bryce! At least some things haven't changed." His sister giggled and rapped the roof of the carriage, a signal to the driver that she was ready to go.

Ulric watched as the carriage circle the graveled drive and then advanced through the heavy iron gates that lead out of the estate. Turning on his heel, he shook his head, realizing he'd still been smiling and headed up the steps towards the front door.

His messenger boy, a wispy blonde-haired lad of seventeen years old, met him in the foyer with a neatly folded parchment.

"Milord, I received this missive for you just this morning in the marketplace."

Ulric took the letter and broke the wax seal. Immediately recognizing Edwin's handwriting, he nodded his thanks and bounded the staircase. He'd had every intention of seeking out Audelia for a mid-morning snack but perhaps, it would be another few minutes until he was to do so.

The moment he entered his study, Ulric settled down behind his desk and fully unfolded the parchment. Edwin was not a man who penned letters often so Ulric was convinced that something dire must have happened. He read through the scribbled cursive and chuckled.

' _15 March 1401_

Henshire House

Dear Lord Recluse,

My mother is recovering rather well especially since I'd discovered that her supposedly grave ailment happens to only be a common cold that she had acquired from a brief encounter with the morning rain. Apparently, she had exaggerated her condition with the sole intention of forcing an earlier visit. She misses me, she says, even though it had only been a week since I'd brought her favorite lilac flowers for the sitting room, and sunflower seeds for her precious garden. I daresay, the woman is making me rather vain. No, I take that back. I've always been known to be splendid company...'

Grinning, Ulric leaned back in his chair and continued.

'Anyways, things seem to have become rather festive here in Henshire over the past couple days. My sister, Giselle, has become engaged just last eve to Sebastian Bastille, a rather successful wool merchant with a bookish temperament. I am not complaining at all. At least, she can focus her endless nagging on someone else for a change.

My second cousin, Charmont, has also been successfully hitched. I'm sure you remember him from our school days at the Academy. He doesn't drink much any longer, I've been told and seems to be falling all over himself at the sight of his new fiancee. She's a gentle lass by the name of Jocelyn, Giselle says.

All these festivities and smiles and bride-talk is giving me quite a headache so do expect me back within the next day or two. Until then, save me a bottle of brandy, and don't forget you owe me a re-match at chess. You cheated last time.

Your loyal friend,

The Amiable Edwin.

Ulric refolded the missive, still chuckling and shoved it inside a drawer. Poor Edwin. He must be truly suffering over there at Henshire but at least he wasn't the one getting shackled into marriage. Ulric still viewed both of them as bachelors to the very end because nothing felt better than the ambiance of being a free man.

Except for... Shaking his head, Ulric quickly dismissed the notion. Audelia Rolfen was proving to get more and more beneath his skin with each passing day and with each time they made love. It was almost impossible to get her out of his mind, out of his head, out of his very thoughts. It was if the woman had been sent purposefully to entrance him, a woman after his own affection. Clasping his hands together, Ulric jumped out of his chair, almost toppling it over and strode from the room, in search of the very temptress who'd been consuming his thoughts all morning.

He hadn't found her in her bedchamber or the library as he'd hoped but due to a moment's surmise, Ulric had found himself wandering towards the kitchens once again. It was there that he'd discovered her, fully engaged in a tête-à-tête with Cook.

"Pardon me, if I am intruding," he said. In fact, Ulric truly meant to intrude as he had no intention of losing time with Audelia that, by right, should be his.

"Your Lordship," Cook exclaimed, her hand stilling on the wooden spoon that she had been beating quite ferociously inside a large bowl just a moment before. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here again."

Ulric smiled and nodded politely, passing a fleeting glance in Audelia's direction. She was standing, a tray of eggs in her hands, and her gaze locked tightly on him. Sweet heavens, even with flour dusting her hands and cheeks, the woman still looked ravishing.

"Yes, I uh--I came to request that you pack a basket for me. I am to go out for a ride and may tarry a while."

"Of course, milord." Cook dusted her palms against her apron and spun on her heels. "Say...in the next ten minutes, Your Lordship?"

"Sounds splendid." And he deliberately turned away, heading for the door. But just at the very last moment, Ulric pivoted, pretending as if he had forgotten something. "Uh...Miss Moresen. I would also like a word with you. Urgently."

Audelia nodded abruptly, bid Cook a farewell bob and then followed Ulric through the kitchens, down the hall and then up the winding staircase. Her heart tapped wildly against her rib cage and in a minute or two, she found herself being shoved through the door of Ulric's study and her back pressed firmly against the wall.

Ulric's mouth came crashing down on hers before she could utter a single word, his tongue teasing against the crease of her lips and taunting her mouth open, delivering a kiss that pronounced a longing which mirrored her own.

"You're...you're going for a ride?" she asked breathlessly, her hand shooting up to her heaving chest.

Ulric smiled, brushing his mouth against hers gently and then withdrew, marching across the room. "We are going for a ride."

"Us?"

"Yes. As in, you and I." Ulric leaned his weight against the edge of his desk and opened his arms, beckoning her forward. "A picnic out in the cool air sounds rather tempting, doesn't it?"

"Aren't you concerned about what they might say? The servants, I mean? And Cook?" Audelia took his strong hands as he reeled her into his arms. "To see you dallying with me?"

Ulric pecked her on the forehead, on the tip of her nose and then on the cheeks. "In case you've forgotten, Audelia, I'm the Lord Chastelle. I can do very much as I please."

Audelia frowned and shook her head, pulling out of his hold. Moving up to the long rectangular window, she sighed, gazing out into the gardens. "I wasn't speaking of your reputation, Your Lordship, but mine. During the rest of my...time here, I'd like to think that everyone else holds me in good regard."

She could feel the warmth of Ulric's presence approaching, hear the brisk steps of his fashionable boots. His breath warmed the back of her neck, followed by the tight wounding of his arms about her waist.

"I shall try not to damage your reputation overmuch with the rest of my staff ," he whispered, his light tone bringing a smile to her lips. "Though I have no intention of reneging on my desire to give you a picnic in the meadow. I've been thinking of it ever since I woke up this morning, missing your refreshing scent."

Audelia sighed and rest her head back against him as Ulric's lips sought out the slope of her neck. "You do tend to be rather persuasive."

"It's a vital trait of mine." He nipped on her flesh and cupped her breasts through the thick fabric of a plain gray dress. Her subtle lilac scent spread around him like a potion, taunting and teasing him. "But you must do me one favor. I demand it of you."

Audelia spun in his embrace, running her hands over his strong arms. Curious, she eyed him narrowly, her lips twitching. "What is it?"

"When we are together, call me Ulric. I believe we are long past formalities. And I... And I happen to like the sound of it."

"Alright," Audelia conceded, her heart warming at his gentle voice. "But I think I will call you Bryce, instead."

Chuckling, he tipped her chin and and held her closer. "Is there any special reason for that?"

"It seems to add a little...softness to your character."

"Vixen!" Ulric's chest rumbled with laughter as he lifted her of her feet and plastered his mouth over hers with a groan. "Dear god, I fear if I stay here with you any longer, we shall not make it to the picnic."

"Then come." Audelia broke from his grasp, rushing towards the door before he managed to reach for her again. "I'll even race you."

They arrived at the meadows near the ruins some fifteen minutes later, finding a suitable shaded spot, where Ulric unrolled a red and white plaid blanket. They sat there for a while, feasting on Cook's infamous jelly-filled biscuits and cups of lemonade.

"I hear the weather has never been so favorable here before," Audelia said, taking the last bite of her biscuit.

"It's true. It usually rains for long periods of time, especially in the afternoons."

Ulric rest his arm on one raised knee, watching her. The cool mild breeze threaded through the ringlets of her very dark hair. Hair that he had ran his fingers through countless times. At the moment, it was caught in a thick single braid that was pinned up tightly on her head. But he knew that, when allowed to reign free, it dangled in wondrous inky waves straight down her slender back and to an appealingly trim waist.

"I've never seen such good weather either," Audelia confessed, gazing over at the burn-ridden stones of the ruins. "Where I come from, it rains almost all day, everyday."

Interest suddenly peaked, Ulric leaned forward, draining the rest of the tangy drink from his cup. "And where is that? What region of Bascain are you from, Audelia?"

She didn't answer him right away but smiled sadly and rest her chin against her knees a minute, before turning to face him again.

"Camden," she said, softly.

Ulric frowned. He knew of that district and probably have only journeyed there a handful of times in his life. It was not a small region either, perhaps a little larger than Chastelle and far more hectic as well. But size wasn't the detail that mystified Ulric at all but the remoteness of Camden itself. For a wench to travel so great a distance and end up in Thornea, where he had found her, must not had been an easy task. The district was possibly five miles or so outside of Chastelle and that factor alone troubled him greatly.

How had she ended up so far from home? And what had caused her to resort to thievery, of all things?

A thousand questions threaded through Ulric's mind as he sat there, considering the slight forlorn expression on Audelia's face. Something was troubling her and he knew he would not be successful at learning what it was. Not by her, in any case. Perhaps it was high time he'd taken a keener look into Audelia's circumstances and sought further information, lest she was in some form of danger. Until then, he'd be content with keeping her within the safety of Chastelle Manor whether she liked it or not. In the meanwhile, he'd try his best to offer a shoulder if she needed one.

"Apple?" he offered, grateful for the reluctant smile she now sported, and slicing the fruit into four equal parts. "And get over here before I'm forced to move you myself."
Sixteen

The sensations that threaded through Ulric's body and reached for the strings of his own heart, reminded him much of when he was a boy. It reminded him of days when laughter had been common and smiles were easily given. She reminded him of that. Turning over on his back, he gazed through the entwining branches overhead and up at the clear blue sky. Next to him, Audelia was sprawled on her belly, elevated on her elbows and still grinning at some silly childhood memory he had reluctantly shared. Ulric was not used to being laughed at--not for the majority of his adult life, at least--but somehow he found the sound of her giggles and titters to be quite comforting. And it was always better to have her laughing at him and then to see even a stitch of sadness in those beautiful brown eyes he was becoming to love.

"You are a terrible liar," she laughed, batting away wisps and wisps of hair from her face. "You expect me to believe that you had been the subject of jokes as a child."

Well, mayhap he had exaggerated a bit but the sincere twinkle in her eyes was certainly worth it. "I was never bullied, if that's what you're thinking. I merely laughed along with my supposed perpetrators and declared vengeance."

"Your sister was right then. You weren't always so...stiff."

Ulric laughed and looked at her. "I prefer 'reserved', if you please. And when did my sister say this?"

Audelia smiled and reached for a curled leaflet that had just fallen from the tree. "On several occasions. She says you used to be joyous and sociable. That things changed when..." She shook her head and glanced away.

"That things changed when what?"

"When your...your father had passed away."

A full minute passed before Ulric said another word. Closing his eyes, he inhaled slowly and sighed. He'd tried very hard not to think so much of the past. For his own sanity, he had kept that part of his life well hidden, forgotten...undisturbed. The late Lord Viktor St. Rosso had been a great man who had been lost far too soon.

"I suppose she was correct then." He'd almost flinched when he felt her hand on his shoulder, her fingers tightening in a gentle squeeze. "My father was a good man. A good husband and an even greater father. The tenants throughout the town loved him, adored him." Ulric chuckled lightly and knitted his fingers beneath his head. "He used to take me out here as a boy, you know. We'd talk for hours, him telling me the history of our ancestors, teaching me of the story behind these scattered ruins."

"It's okay to grieve, you know." Her voice came softly, consoling and gentle.

Ulric shook his head and sat up, his forearms resting against his knees. Audelia did not understand. He knew that it was okay to grieve. He knew that. When his father had died, Ulric had wished that it hadn't been true, wished that he had only been dreaming. But reality had swept in and ripped his heart apart, had torn his hopes and dreams into shreds. And now the pain that he had once felt threatened to resurface again.

"Someone..." Said pain crept up high into his throat, leaving a bitter taste of loss and bereavement there. "Someone had to be strong for us. Someone had to keep things going."

Audelia knew about being strong. She knew about going on. But even she had broken down at times. Even she had allowed herself a some well needed cries, even though they were few and never frequent.

"I understand."

"Do you?"

His head turned sharply to look at her. He was struggling to keep his feelings at bay and she knew it. It could be seen in the hardness of his clenched jaws and the indignation in his eyes. Ulric felt robbed; robbed of his adolescence and robbed of a father he had very much respected and loved.

"I do." Audelia sighed, closing her eyes briefly as the light breeze swept across her face. "I grieve for parents I have never known. I...I try to convince myself that if I allow myself just a moment of mourning, at least that will put me at peace somehow." She smiled sadly and met his gaze. "The pain never goes away but at least I know how to cope with it."

Ulric swallowed tightly and looked away, lest she saw the full agony in his eyes. At least, he had memories of his parents. Good, happy memories. "My condolences."

"Like I said, I never knew them."

"I thought... I thought you'd meant something else." He'd thought she was being hesitant, protective even. He'd thought she had meant to keep his curiosity at bay. Or perhaps he had been so distracted by her new feelings for her, that he hadn't really been thinking truly on it. For that, he could not blame her at all.

"It doesn't matter now," she continued, moving in closer, her lilac scent intensifying with her approach. "I've realized that it's best to enjoy the present and to always look forward. And you still have a sister who loves you."

Ulric grasped her hand and raised it to his lips. "You're a lot wise for just a thieving wench."

Stilling, a deep blush of embarrassment swept across Audelia's features before she realized the jesting in his tone and shook her head with a smile. "I never stole for sport."

"Necessity, then?" He hoped.

"I suppose." She watched attentively as Ulric's lips massaged the tip of each finger and the inside of her wrist. "It was either that...or seek employ from one of the brothels."

"And you never will." Ulric pulled her in, brushing his thumb across her cheek and smoothing it over her sweet quivering lips. The thought of Audelia granting favors to other men at the sole intention of earning a few coins, made Ulric want to ram his fist through a bloody wall. "Do you hear me?"

Nodding, Audelia leaned in to accept Ulric's gentle kiss. He knew just how to make her feel, to put her heart and mind at ease. In a moment like this, she feared that her mind was telling her something that she possibly had known for some time. She was falling in love with Lord St. Rosso and she was terrified by it.

"Bryce?"

"Mm?" He kissed her again and met her stare. "You know you can speak freely, love."

Love. Audelia's heart warmed at the tender endearment. With his hand still cupping her cheek, she turned her head and kissed his palm softly. "When Lady Ryia is to return home soon, is...does our agreement still stand? That you'll free me?"

Ulric swallowed, knowing that the question had been lingering on her lips for some time now. He was beginning to feel something for her. He knew not what it was but he cared about her well-being, and he hadn't the heart to let her go. At least, not yet. But the look in her eyes spoke volumes of a girl who had been trapped all her life, and he had no intention of adding to her suffering.

"Of course."

Audelia nodded, lowering her lids as he pecked her on the forehead. A part of her felt relieved, pleased that he'd meant to keep his promise. But the other part was disappointed, saddened that he would mean let her go so easily.

* * *

Candles lit and burning brightly, Ulric smiled to himself and took a bite of Cook's tenderly prepared pork. Across the table were bowls of steaming boiled potatoes and rice as well as a tray of freshly baked fist-sized loaves. And he certainly had not forgotten to request a plate of jelly-filled biscuits.

"I give up," Ryia muttered next to him. He'd seated her right beside him since the table was built to accommodate twelve and would seem far too formal if she had been sitting at the far end of it. "Is this an early farewell present? Are you that glad I am too leave soon?"

"Will you relax?" Ulric dabbed the corner of his mouth with a napkin and withheld his belch. "A man would like to have dinner with his sister once in a while."

Eyes narrowing, Ryia pursed her lips. "And you expect me to believe that? You who, as I can clearly recall, 'usually dines privately'?"

"Good gracious, do you do latch onto everything I say?"

"Whyever should I not?" Ryia took a sip of water, glancing down at her untouched meal. "You said so yourself. And now, when I am just a couple days from leaving, you break your own idiotic rule and invite me to dine privately with you. Forgive me if I am a bit stunned by the gesture."

Sighing, Ulric cast his gaze to the heavens and then back to his sister. Good lord, he was trying but Ryia was certainly making it difficult. He blamed Audelia for putting the idea in his head.

"Dining alone is something I've grown accustomed to, Ryia," he said, forking a piece of potato from his plate. "Do remember I live alone."

"Edwin is here with you most of the time."

Ulric rolled his eyes and snorted. "We are men, Ryia. Males do not dine regularly together, all by themselves. We pass our meals in a study over a bottle of brandy and perhaps a game or two of cards and chess."

Finally, and God bless his sanity, Ryia tried a piece of pork. As she chewed, she watched him curiously. "I haven't seen you roll your eyes since we were children."

"And you haven't been more irritating."

She chuckled then, sharing herself a scoop of rice. "It's you, Bryce, who has become overly sensitive. Those pestering ways have long been abandoned, if you must know. My husband is quite the cheerer and such enthusiasm is very contagious."

"So it's me you like to annoy then?"

"Not 'annoy'," she blew out, rolling her own eyes, and resting a hand on Ulric's shoulder. "Just curious. I hadn't seen my only brother in almost eight years. What do you expect?"

Ulric scratched at his chin and glanced at his sister. He could see that Ryia had grown immensely over the years and marriage seemed to suit her well. With a family of her own, who adored her by no doubt, he could see no reason for her not to be as happy as she claimed. He could see it in the way she behaved, even saw in her eyes the last time she had spoken of them. Ryia must have truly gotten the love she had been wishing for since they were children. Ulric thought, then, that love must truly be a great thing.

"I see," he murmured, pouring them each a glass of wine. "Tell me about them. My niece, my nephew." He cleared his throat. "The baron."

Ryia's eyes lit up immediately and she swallowed down her food, excitement glittering in her blue eyes. "Well... Goodness, I don't know where to start." She giggled and then patted him playfully on the arm. "First of all, Bryce, don't you think it's high time you stopped referring to Merek as 'the baron'? He's your brother-in-law, for heaven's sake. Perhaps if he hadn't some...respect for you, he would have said so himself."

"Merek Hyslop was a knight, Ryia." Ulric shook his head and swallowed down a good portion of his wine. "Such respect you speak of sounds a bit like fear to me. Which is highly unnecessary coming from a man who'd been soldiering his youth away in honor of this country. He's earned his wealth and title and ought not be afraid of me."

Ryia swallowed, staring at her brother for a good deal of time, unsure of what to say. It was after several moments of deep thinking that she realized she hadn't any rebuttal. And it wasn't till then that she fathomed what Ulric was truly saying.

"Bryce," she gasped, her eyes wide with wonder. "That is a rather fine compliment."

"Yes, well don't get greedy about it." Smiling, he gave his sister a gentle squeeze on the shoulder and removed the last piece of pork from his plate. "And you better eat up. Cook never liked her food to go to waste."

Ryia readily dove into her meal, beaming like a child on her birthday. "Let's see... Uh, where was I? Oh yes. Joseff has hair like mine. He's a bit short for his age and terribly shy but I have great confidence he will grow into a strapping young man. I've already started working with him on his poise and--"

Ulric almost spat out his drink. "Poise? Are you joking? Leave the lad alone, Ryia. He's only four. I am sure he will grow into it. Come on. Have you seen his uncle?"

His sister gave him one assessing look and then shook her head. "At least he'll learn decorum from his father."

Grinning, Ulric smoothed down the lapels of his dinner jacket. "Admit it, I'm rather dapper."

"Maliha inherited her father's golden hair. She is three years old," Ryia went on as if he hadn't said a thing. "But sometimes I think she truly believes that she's the older one. She can be very bossy and stubborn, and I fear she shall turn my head gray far too soon. But she's her father's darling and I'm relieved sometimes when he takes her in hand."

Ulric smiled, watching his sister as she went on and on. Ryia was truly happy and nothing could convince him otherwise. If anything, it made him realize just how much time he had missed with her and how much time he needed to make up for. Perhaps it was not too late to rekindle the amity and trust they had once shared as children. Over the past years, he hadn't been much of a brother to her. He'd surely like to try again.
Seventeen

"Keep an eye on her till I return. I hope to be back early tonight."

Gilgallon handed over the reigns of Ulric's stallion and nodded. "Are you certain you would not like me to accompany you, milord?"

"Quite certain, Gilgallon. I intend on being discreet about this matter." Ulric's grip tightened on the reigns and he nudged Gray gently in the flanks. "Do not let her out of your sight."

Swallowing, Gilgallon nodded and watched Lord St. Rosso ride off down the drive and through the heavy gates. He then sent a silent prayer, hoping for a painless day. Rubbing a hand down the area of his thigh nearest to his groin, Gilgallon then turned on his heels and headed for the house. On his stroll up towards the front steps, he caught the sight of a dashing figure moving in the direction of the east stable. Clucking his tongue between his teeth, he turned and pursued.

Rounding the path which lead into the gardens, he stomped pass a few patches of blue and purple morning glories which had started to climb along the high banisters, and proceeded to the large stable house. Inside he found the girl, Miss Rolfen he'd known her truly as, petting the chestnut mare His Lordship and recently placed there. The stable's reparation had been succeeded far earlier than they had been expecting and the rest of the broodmares had not been able to be moved as yet.

"What are you doing, Miss?"

The girl spun suddenly as if he had startled her, a sugar cube falling to the hay from her hand. "Gilgallon."

"Yes," he responded, moving closer. "Me. What are you about now?"

"I came to see her," Audelia said, her gaze steady and defiant. Behind the closed stall, the mare snorted, perhaps unhappy that her treat had been interrupted. "I'm sure His Lordship would not mind. Even a mare deserves a little company sometimes."

Eyeing her carefully, Gilgallon bent to retrieve the sugar cube. "And that's all you wish to do?"

"As long as you refrain from passing more untruthful accusations."

A muscle in Gilgallon's right cheek ticked and he handed over the sugar cube. "I would not dream of it. But His Lordship does have one condition and I intend on carrying out my duty."

She held up the sugary treat to the mare, who readily nibbled it away, keeping her gaze on the guard. "Yes?"

"You are not to leave my sight. Where you go, I go." He cleared his throat. "Save for when you are in Her Ladyship's private quarters, that is."

She turned from him and ran a hand across the mare's jaw. "Fine by me. Is there anything else?"

"No." Gilgallon took a few steps backwards to lean against the wall near the door. "Carry on then."

Gilgallon kept his attention trained on the girl as she petted and whispered to the mare. He knew that His Lordship had gotten quite fond of the wench in the past week and he could tell why. Miss Rolfen had an unconventionally fiery spirit, complemented by a fair countenance and a strangely attractive presence. Gilgallon just hoped that His Lordship knew exactly what he was getting himself into at the expense of a girl he hardly knew anything about.

* * *

It was near noon when Ulric arrived in the village of Thornea. It seemed to have rained a bit throughout the morning, judging by the still draining rooftops and puddled streets. However, the marketplace was still rather congested and frenzied, serfs and merchants eagerly brandishing their produce at passersby and potential customers.

Lowering the brim of his hat over his eyes, Ulric guided Gray past the yelling farmers and traders and towards the nearest inn he could spot out. It was the inn that he'd stayed on his previous visit to the village. The very same inn where he had met Audelia's...acquaintance.

Dismounting his stallion, Ulric entrusted the reigns to a stable boy who had readily made himself present, and then bounded through the large double doors. Inside, the innkeeper met him before he had even fully removed his hat.

"Lord Chastelle, is it not?" The stout balding man greeted, flashing a toothy smile. "I didna expect you back so soon, at all. Are you staying long?"

"No. But I shall need a word with you promptly." Ulric passed his gaze over the front hall, content that it was not overly busy. "Shall we?"

"Of-of course, sir. Hester Foreman, at your service. Right through here."

Ulric followed the man through the small hall and then down a corridor which lead them to what he presumed, was the innkeeper's office. It was a small space, a bit untidy and had a rather distinct scent of laudanum and cigar smoke. A fairly repulsive scent, altogether.

The innkeeper quickly cleared a few scattered sheets of paper from his desk and chuckled anxiously. "Forgive me for the odor, milord. There was a bit of a situation here last eve involving a couple drunkards. Nothing that couldn't be controlled though."

"I'm here to inquire about a young woman," Ulric said, glancing about the room. "I'm hoping you can somewhat assist me."

"Of course. Although I-I must say, Your Lordship, that ladies of your.... renowned circles rarely take lodging here. My guests are mostly gentlemen, Sir."

"I am aware of that. I cannot truly declare that the woman is a serf or not but either way, I request your honest look into my query." Ulric reached into the inside pocket of his coat and withdrew a few golden coins. "And for your aid, of course."

The innkeeper's eyes bulged at the jingling currencies and smiled, pulling up a chair for Ulric. "What do you need, milord?"

Obliging, Ulric took his seat and sighed. God help him that someone knew something about her.

"She's about this height," he said, tilting his hand at his shoulder. "Long hair, the color of midnight and eyes, the exact shade of...walnuts. She has a small pointed nose and quite a slender figure as well. Have you ever seen her?"

The innkeeper looked downright baffled, scratching the side of his forehead. "I-I don't know..."

Ulric rolled his eyes and blew out a breath. Perhaps he should have asked elsewhere. Easing out of the chair, he shook his head sorrily and sighed.

On second thought... "You might have seen her wearing men's clothing. Breeches and men's smocks, perhaps."

"Well..." The man ran a beefy hand over his rounded belly, frowning in thought. "I may have seen someone to that description, Sir, but I seriously doubt--"

"Out with it, man!" Ulric forced himself not to march across the room and give the bloke a good shake. Hope was already swirling in his gut and he had no intention of dismissing it so easily.

"I believe I've seen a girl like that before, milord. Though, I can't be certain of the color of her hair or her eyes. But I do recall some time ago, possibly a few weeks, when I'd chased her out for taking bread from my kitchens. I thought she moved a bit fast for a wench too."

Nodding, Ulric scratched his brow, convinced they were now speaking of the same person. "Anything else?"

The innkeeper shrugged. "Nope. But I do know she'd managed to make off with my favorite dagger. I still can't see how she'd swiped it from my waist though."

Ulric could take a wild guess. Audelia was that skilled of a thief. He'd been fortunate to be one of her subjects on one occasion.

"Are you sure there's nothing else you know about her?" Audelia had mentioned she was from Camden and Ulric hoped she had been truthful about that. "Has anyone from Camden ever come around asking for her?"

"Not at all. Not that I know of." The innkeeper rocked on his heels slowly, eyeing Ulric's hand that held the coins. "Is she a wanted criminal, Sir? Are you bent on catching her for some other crime because I'd very much like to see my dagger again," the man continued but when he met Ulric's steely glare, he chuckled nervously. "Or not."

"If you have nothing else to tell me then I believe we are done here." Tossing the coins onto the messy table, Ulric nodded and turned to leave. "Thank you for your time."

"No, thank you, Sir." The bloke chuckled like a buffoon as he scooped up the coins and shove them down deep into his pockets. "Uh...milord?"

"Speak."

"Perhaps you should pay Lorena a visit. She's the owner of the brothel across the street. I doubt there's any wench around here who hasn't crossed paths with her a time or two."

Ulric sighed, nodded his thanks and then strode from the building. As he made his way across the street, he prayed that the bawd had some helpful information to share or else he'd be forced to make a rather tedious trip to Camden. Whatever the case, Ulric was determined to get some answers.

Lorena happened to be a voluptuous redhead, possibly a few years older than Ulric was, but still beautiful and a rather accomplished flirt. Well, that was expected from a woman who managed a bawdyhouse. And even though it had been quite a long time since Ulric had wandered into such establishments, he still remembered the process of things.

Upon entering, he had requested the Madam's presence, tipped one of the girls generously, and even accepted her arm as she'd escorted him to a private parlor, her feminine curves deliberately rubbing up against him. It was a grandly decorated space, expensive furnishings and lots and lots of red silk draperies. Thank heavens, the wait had not been long and before he knew it, Lorena had come sweeping inside the room, barely dressed in a thin red night wrap.

"Well, I can hardly believe it," she cooed, moving in seductively practiced strides across the room. "Lord Chastelle in the flesh. Please do take a seat. Would you like a drink, Sir?"

"No. Actually, I do not mean to tarry." But he did take a seat anyway. "I was told you might be able to assist me with some information about someone."

Huffing, the woman moved up to a small table and poured herself a drink. "Hester sent you, didn't he? From the inn across the street? The blasted fool. I swear, if he sends another soul over here, I shall be convinced to close up and try out the information business instead." She sipped on her drink and winked. "But I'm willing to have a chat with you, milord. I have one question, though."

"Go ahead." Ulric watched as the woman sashayed across the room, undoing the ties of her wrap and offering him a very generous few of a bountiful pair of supple breasts. Ulric could even make out the dark areolas of her mounds. Perhaps if he was interested, he'd be a bit enthused.

"What's in it for me, Your Lordship?" Lorena took a seat directly opposite him, tucking her long naked legs beneath her. "I might teach you a thing or two."

Ulric met her eyes steadily. "Take no offense, Madam. But I am not here to purchase favors."

Lorena chuckled. "Who said I was selling? I'd be more than willing to dally a little with the Lord of Chastelle at no cost at all."

His patience almost snapped but he maintained his cool. "A dark-haired woman who wears breeches. Have you seen her?"

Lorena teased the brim of her glass with one fingertip, her expression cool and coquettish. She then rose from her seat and walked over to a draped window. "Mayhap."

"Mayhap?" Ulric stormed out his seat, his heart pounding just now. "Do you know her or not?"

"Well, milord," she continued, her back still turned to him. "There are not many wenches that I've seen around here who wears breeches." She chuckled and turned. "I possible first ran into her months ago but the little wretch has managed to keep quiet after that. I'd even offered her a place here...to start something for herself. Her face certainly bore some potential. My men tend to like the...innocent look, I've realized."

"I'll pay generously for whatever else you know," Ulric breathed through clenched teeth, grabbing the woman by the arms. If only he could shake the words out of her. It was obvious that she knew something else and was deliberately being coy. He hadn't the patience for coy. "Now, tell me."

"You're rather quick with your hands, milord," she muttered, lashes fluttering smoothly. Ulric dropped his arms and folded them, keeping her cornered. He was not leaving until she spoke every damn thing she knew, and he was in no mood either to stand there, hat in hand, to a blasted bawd. "Oh fine, then. What is wrong with some of you gents, anyway? Can't you be satisfied with us? We're not all that expensive, you know?"

Perplexed, Ulric stared her down. "Out with it."

Lorena breathed out a sigh and stood akimbo. "Well, you're not the first gent to come around here asking about the wench. Audelia, he'd said her name was. Or something like that. Came in just two weeks ago with some big-haired lady too."

Eighteen

Audelia slowly arranged the two sets of chess pieces on the board, eyeing the burly guard carefully. It was long past dawn, and even dinnertime had been spent some few hours ago. Even Lady Ryia had already retired to bed, resting up for her departure on the morrow. Ulric was yet to return and even though he'd assured her that he would not have spent more than a day away, a worrisome twinge still pulsed deep inside her gut. Perhaps, it was all in her head. Perhaps, she was just being silly. But she had developed a great fondness for him over the days and whether she wished to believe it or not, the feeling was very real. He was very real. Audelia knew that a reciprocated affection was much to wish for but she'd rather dream than batter herself with the pains of the present. Somewhere in her heart, she hoped Ulric cared for her as much as she had grown to care for him.

"Have you ever played chess before?" she asked.

Gilgallon frowned and fidgeted in his seat. "No."

Scowling, Audelia sat up straight at the table they were sharing inside the library. A brightly burning lantern sat next to them. "Then why'd you propose the game?"

"Because I don't want you wandering off. It's blasted nighttime and I haven't the patience to play hide-and-go-seek with you. Now tell me how it's played already."

"It's not a just a simple game. It requires skill and strategy and--"

"Are you calling me daft, miss?"

Audelia pursed her lips and continued arranging the final four pieces. "If you insist then."

"How do you know how to play?" Gilgallon questioned, watching her fingers as they moved across the black and white squares. "Only aristocrats are allowed this type of sport."

Audelia met his eyes briefly, swallowed down the gulp in her throat, but managed her cool composure. Blasted man. "I saw the gents play all the time," she finally said, even though she'd played the game a handful of times with...Lord Dextrem. Madame de Lucci had taught her, had required it of her. "Then I stole a board almost as grand as this one. I traded it in for a few coins later on."

Gilgallon huffed lightly. "You're a proud thief, aren't you?"

Audelia smiled. "We all have to accept ourselves for what we are, even if it appears disagreeable in the eyes of others."

"Tell me the rules."

Moving her index finger from left to right, Audelia explained as clearly as she could. "This fellow here is your rook...knight, bishop, king and then your queen. Then you have another bishop, another knight and another rook." She glanced at him to see if she was truly paying attention. Satisfied that he was , she continued. " On this row before them, are your pawns. They have the lowest value and are like your...soldiers."

Gilgallon nodded. "What's next?"

"As you can see, each set of pieces are a different color. And--"

The door to the library came shoving in and Gilgallon jumped to his feet, distancing himself from the table.

"Your Lordship."

In came Ulric, looking positively exhausted. His hair, the portion of it that had managed to break free from the tie at his nape, was spiking out all around his head. Audelia thought either he had been ambushed or had taken quite a tumble from his horse.

"Thank you, Gilgallon," he muttered, breathing ferociously. "I would like to speak with Miss Rolfen alone now, please."

Miss Rolfen. Audelia cringed at his informal words, glancing away nervously as Gilgallon left the room. As soon as she heard the door slid to a close, she met his gaze.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, her mind sending off all sorts of warning signals.

Ulric paced the room a bit, considering his options. But when he really thought about it, he had no options. "I need to have a word with you, Audelia. Right now and you'd better be honest with me."

"But I haven't--"

"For god's sake, do not lie to me!" Ulric grasped her by the arm and pulled her across the room towards the sofa chairs. He hadn't meant to explode like that but Ulric had been riding none stop since he'd spoken with Madam Lorena. He needed to know what the truth was from what it wasn't. He seated Audelia next to him and ran a hand through his hair. "What is your connection to Lord Dextrem?"

"I--I.." Oh lord, she was truly cornered. Audelia swallowed tightly, wringing her hands in her lap. "I knew him. I mean...I know him."

"Know him how?"

Audelia eased shakily to her feet but Ulric grabbed her wrist, prepared to re-seat her.

"Let me go!" she cried, yanking her hand away. "Don't you dare manhandle me."

When she turned to face him, her eyes were filled with tears, tears that Ulric did not know how to handle. Sighing, he ran a palm over his face and cleared his throat. "My apologies. It was not my intention to yell."

"Save me your pity, Bryce," she said, wiping away the tears that had fallen despite her best efforts. She truly hadn't meant to cry and not in front of him, for heaven's sake. But he'd found her out and what was she truly to say. "You asked me a question and I shall answer it."

"Very well, then."

Audelia sniffled and moved about the room, her figure a radiant sight within the burning torchlight. Ulric watched her patiently, willing away the headache that threatened to reach his temples. With all the things he'd discovered in the last couple hours, he hadn't even the good strength to think.

"Lord Dextrem is my benefactor. Was. Is. I hardly know."

Ulric walked over to her, turning her slowly to face him. "Your benefactor? But--"

"I have family, Bryce. I told you this. At seventeen, I was taken from the orphanage that I'd grown up and brought to a domicile for young women. Madame de Lucci brought me there."

Ulric frowned. The name did not ring any bells. "Madame de Lucci?"

"Yes. She runs the house there for dozens of girls like my age. She aimed to pair us with wealthy benefactors."

"And that's how you met him?" Ulric's heart thudded in his throat. He knew Lord Dextrem even though the man must be a decade or so Ulric's senior. The reputable gent was known to be great company in circles as theirs. He and his wife, both. But Ulric had crossed paths with Lord Dextrem enough times to know that he was nothing but a conniving little snake who frequented too many bars and whorehouses.

"Yes. Madame de Lucci introduced me to him and his wife over a year ago. It was planned that I'd be their ward. I was happy."

"Happy?"

"Very much so." She sadly and accepted his hand at her cheek. "I was to have a family. A home. A chance to follow my dreams. They accepted me, a poor orphan girl, as if I was one of their own."

Ulric could understand that. They'd been her savior. "What happened then?"

"I..." She inhaled a deep calming breath, her lips quivering. "Lord Dextrem... He started to act strangely. He became so...attentive. He--" Audelia closed her eyes, afraid to relive the memory but she had to. "He kissed me. At first I hadn't thought it meant much and I was determined to forget that it had happened but he wouldn't. One night, he came to my room, Bryce..." She'd whispered the last part, scared at what Ulric might say.

"What did he do, Audelia?" Ulric squeezed his eyes shut, his vision clouding with red blinding rage. "Tell me he did not..."

Shaking her head sorrily, Audelia pulled from his grasp and tried as much as she could to put distance between them. She could not take the fury in Ulric's eyes at all. And she was ashamed of it.

"I couldn't stop him. I tried but I couldn't. So... I ran away. Before dawn the very next morning I-I ran away."

"Bloody bastard!" Ulric's shout echoed throughout the room and he tumbled a few chairs in his rage. "I am going to find the coward and run him through the heart."

Audelia gasped, swatting at the tears running down her face. "No! You can't."

"And why the devil can't I? He r.." Ulric huffed, hardly able to utter the despicable word. "He raped you. And you expect me to sit idle and do nothing about it? Lord Dextrem will see the gallows of hell straight after I remove his goddamn testicles."

"You must listen to me!" Audelia grabbed on to his shirt sleeves. "No one will believe me."

"Perhaps not. But they will believe me." Ulric squeezed her hands where she grabbed his clothing, making sure she could see the determination in his eyes. He was now a man driven by love, by duty. "Do not try to stop me, Audelia."

A sharp rap came on the door, followed by a familiar call. "Ulric?"

Audelia glanced up and swallowed tightly. "I--I'll go."

"Don't you dare move an inch. I am not letting you out of my sight tonight." And he meant it. "I'm in here, Edwin," he called out.

The door pushed open and Edwin Montagu stepped through it, an uncertain expression on his face but when his gaze finally zeroed in on Audelia, his lips curved with amusement.

"The...um, guard, Gilgallon told me you might be in here," he chuckled. "How do you do, Miss Rolfen?" Audelia simply nodded once and when Edwin noticed her tear stained face, he frowned. "What did I miss?"

"Did you just get back?" Ulric moved Audelia, silently begging her to sit. When she complied, he sighed with relief.

"Well, yes. Straight off the mount." Edwin's gaze swept between his disheveled friend and the weeping girl. "Is something amiss? You look terrible."

"Yes." Ulric glanced over at his friend and ran a hand over his hair. He'd been doing quite a lot of that over the past few hours. "We have a situation. Do you remember, Lord Dextrem? Jemison Dextrem."

Edwin frowned, easing away from the door and approaching Ulric. "You mean the self-important bloke we'd met on our trip in Camden?"

"The very same." Ulric passed a glance in Audelia's direction, her pained gaze heartbreaking as she watched them silently. "I plan to murder him and I shall need your support on it."

"You can't!" Audelia jumped from her seat, already meaning to plead with him but when Ulric's face remained set and adamant, she turned her teary gaze to Edwin instead. "You cannot allow him to do this. To kill a man. Not-not at my expense."

Edwin gulped, glancing at Ulric. The last time he'd seen his friend truly like this, was years ago. Over thirteen years ago, to be exact. While the weeping wench before him came as a sudden surprise, Edwin also knew that Ulric was quite serious about his words and that he truly meant to put the stuffy lord to death. He ran a palm over his face and tried not to look as helpless as he felt. Goddamn it, how much had he missed?

Giving Miss Rolfen the most reassuring look he could muster up, Edwin then pulled his friend to the far side of the room and got right at it. "What in hell's name happened?"

"She's not just a..." Ulric glanced over at Audelia, who had sunk back into her seat, and lowered his voice. "She's not just a thieving wench, Edwin. She's an orphan who'd been set on hard circumstances and had been merely trying to get by."

"What does murdering Lord Dextrem have to do what that, though? I never really liked the man, barely tolerated him but murder, Ulric? What has he done?"

The muscles in his jaws ticked wildly and Ulric fought hard to control his temper. "He suffered her a severe injustice that I refuse to allow to slip under the rug. I will not rest until I've beaten the life out of the bastard."

"Injustice?" Edwin scratched at his temple, thoroughly confused but when he glanced over at Audelia and then back at his grimacing friend, his mind finally clicked. "Surely you don't mean to tell me that he..." Edwin ran a hand over his own hair. "Oh bloody fuck!"

Ulric ground his teeth together, speaking as softly as he could. "Ryia is leaving by mid-morning tomorrow, and I have no intention of letting Audelia out of my sight. She will remain here until I can fully figure out the situation. From what I've been told, the bastard has been looking for her and I intend on finding him first."

Nodding, Edwin looked at his friend. Ulric looked like a mess and rightly had just cause to be. "Whatever you need me to do, I will help you. You know that." He placed a hand on Ulric's shoulder and gave it firm squeeze. "But tell me something..."

"What?"

"Have you...lain with her?" He could already tell but certainly still needed to ask.

"Bloody hell, Edwin!" Ulric ran his palm over his face. "Do you have any other questions?"

He shook his head. "No. But I think I've got my answer, anyhow." Edwin smiled slightly. "Hey, whatever you do, try not to terrify her more than she already is. Stay with her tonight and we can go get Dextrem after Ryia's gone."

Nodding, Ulric inhaled a deep breath and let it out slowly. God knows, he was going to beat the hell out of Dextrem. And after that Audelia was stuck with him, like it or not.

Ninteen

"This feels terribly awkward, Bryce, but I shall not complain. The other part of me, that is not fully skeptic, is thoroughly enjoying this."

Ryia allowed her brother to crush her into a prolonged embrace until she felt they were both quite satisfied. Although she was somewhat reluctant to leave, she had to. She'd never been this long and such far a distance from her children before. And Ryia also knew that her dear Merek must be suffering from their insistent nagging. Chuckling, she pulled back and looked at Ulric.

"Feel free to come back anytime you want," he said. "And bring the little devils with you."

"Of course." She gave him a small peck on the cheek. "But you must come see us the next time we meet. I'm sure it would help to...ease Merek's mind a little."

Ulric smiled despite his throbbing headache. He'd scarcely gotten any sleep throughout the night. Even when he'd felt the tension ease from Audelia's body and her breathing had settled, he'd lain wide awake and listening to the sounds of the night, trying to calm his nerves.

"It's a deal then. I'll write to you."

"Thank you," she sighed, blinking back tears. "Thanks for being...you."

"I've always been me, Ryia."

She reached a hand up and massaged his cheek. Her dear brother was returning, and she could not wait until she could see his full glowing spirit again. "No, you haven't. But I'm glad you've come back to me."

Ulric nodded, now becoming aware of the presence of his stable-man, Gilgallon, Edwin...and Audelia, who stood nearby. "Send me a notice as soon as you get home. Save travels, Ryia."

"Stay well until I see you again." Ryia smiled, took a deep breath and then turned to face Edwin. "The next time I see you, Ed, I shall bring you a lovely maiden to capture your heart."

Edwin grimaced and clutched his chest. "Why not poison me instead?" He grinned and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Save travels, Ryia."

"Of course. Now, where is..?. Ah, there you are." Ryia spun and grabbed hold of Audelia's hands. Chuckling, she pulled the girl into a tight hug. "I shall miss you dearly, Lia. You've been a good friend to me over the past days. I could not have asked for a better lady's maid. But don't you worry. I'm sure Bryce will find a pleasant place for you here at Chastelle Manor."

"Thank you, milady." Audelia nodded and smiled in return. She knew that everything would change after this very moment.

Ryia's carriage was off within the next two minutes and Ulric remained there a while, Edwin next to him, watching it until the vehicle was but a dot in the distance.

"We know you'll miss her, Ulric," his friend said. "She's matured well. And she loves you."

"Well, she's my sister. She's supposed to love me."

Snorting, Edwin slapped him hard on the back. "The agreement is off, isn't it?"

Ulric swallowed and glanced over at his friend. "It had been off for some time now."

"Good. We set out for Camden soon. I thought maybe we could--"

"We'll go in the morning. I have to speak with Audelia."

Edwin nodded and stared out past the wide open lawn. "Try not to be too rough about it. For the time being, I'll start preparing some supplies for the journey."

A few minutes later, Ulric found Audelia in his study where he'd told Gilgallon to watch her. Her composure was cool and almost austere but he knew better. She was in pain, emotional pain and he had no idea how to ease it.

Dismissing the guard, he walked up to her were she stood by the window.

"I cannot dissuade you, can I?"

Ulric swallowed, unsure of how to go about things. He was not sure she would permit him to hold her or if she would push him away. But he needed to console her somehow. He needed to reassure her that she could trust him, that he would not see her hurt. Not anymore.

"I'm afraid not, Audelia. I...I care about you and you can only be safe here, under my protection."

She turned to face him at that point, her eyes blotchy and nose swollen. She had been crying. Pain tugged at his heart and Ulric pulled her close, thanking God that she did not resist him. He feathered soft kisses across her face and sighed. He would not allow that bastard to roam free. Not while Ulric knew what he had done. Not while he was still breathing.

"I've been thinking," she muttered, voice cracked and a it hoarse. "About everything. Are...are you certain he had been looking for me?"

"Yes. When I went to Thornea I found someone who'd been questioned by him just a couple weeks ago, Audelia. He's searching."

"But why?" She'd thought Madame de Lucci would be the one looking. Not...Lord Dextrem. "I'm just a...." She shook her head.

"By law, he is your guardian so he will search for you out of obligation. For a while, he will continue until the courts declare it is a waste of time. Until they...decide all hope has been lost."

She knew what that meant. "Until they presume I'm dead, then?"

Ulric nodded. "Please do not fight me on this. I need you to stay here until I have a talk with the man."

"But you'll--"

"I'm not a murderer, Audelia." Ulric groaned and rest his forehead against hers. "But I cannot promise you that I won't break his blasted jaw."

Nodding, she tilted her head to look up at the man she loved. Audelia could see past the stubborn set of his jaws and the determined depth of his green eyes. He was tired, exhausted, and it was all her fault. But she'd remain at the manor a while longer, for his sake. Perhaps she was tired of running, she did not know for certain. But with Lord Dextrem out there looking for her, Chastelle Manor was indeed the safest place for her at the moment. Afterwards... Well, she would pray. She hadn't spoken to God in a long time, and she knew that He, at least, always knew the answers. The right answers.

"My dagger," she muttered after a while, loving the way Ulric's fingers gently massaged her scalp just now. "May...may I see it? I figure I'd feel a whole lot more secure with it at hand when...while you are gone."

* * *

Daylight passed faster than Ulric would have preferred it. He'd left Edwin's company just a hour ago, going over their preparations for Camden on the morrow. It would take them a day, given they did not make any stops, to reach the heart of the district and straight to Lord Dextrem's home.

"I had a friend there."

Ulric turned his head to look down at Audelia. He'd managed to lure her into his bedchamber tonight. Though he had wanted it to happen under different circumstances, he was quite satisfied she was in his bed. Ulric ran his fingers twice through her hair as she snuggled up to him, her head against his chest.

"Tell me about her."

"Your sister reminds me of her. They have the same hair...and eyes. With that kind, warm temperament. She'd been my only friend there."

"I'm sorry."

"Hopefully, I'll find her one day."

Ulric ran a hand over her back and held her closer. "Tell me about the domicile that you'd been taken to?"

"It's a large space near the western borders of Camden, I think. Madame...Madame de Lucci told us that we were safe there. That we'd be in great hands. But we were never permitted to leave the property. Not once. Not unless you were to meet your intended benefactor. That was the first time I'd been out since I arrived there."

"Sounds like a prison to me."

"That's what Jocelyn had said." Audelia sighed and sat up. "We'd have fortnightly check ups, you know. All the girls."

Ulric followed suit, watching her as she spoke. "What kind of check ups?"

"Madame's assistant, Miss Darcott, used to always say that it was for our own good. Just a small process in maintaining our health. The Madame would examine us herself. She'd tell us...tell us to remove our tunics while she took a look."

Ulric frowned. That hardly sounded like a proper establishment to him. And what did the reviewing of naked girls have to do with finding them benefactors anyways? Something seemed entirely fishy about the matter.

"Tell me about her. This...Madame de Lucci."

"She's beautiful. That was one of the things I had first noticed about her. And she's polite and respectable. It's..." Audelia wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "It's almost as if she's a lady or something of the sort."

That caught Ulric's attention and he grasped Audelia's hand. "Are you certain?"

"I don't know...but the way she moves and dresses, I guess you could say so. Lord and Lady Dextrem had seemed very familiar with her. Almost as if they were friends."

Something pricked the back of Ulric's head. "What does she look like?"

Audelia shifted to tuck her legs beneath her, pulling the hem of her white nightgown lower. "Beautiful blonde hair and hazel eyes. She wore a veil most times, except for when we'd go to Dextrem House. On those occasions, she'd become very nice to me. Miss Darcott, too. I'd grown over the months to admire them, myself. It was the first anyone, other than Jocelyn, had been so kind." Smiling slightly, she glanced over at him. "She-she told me that I'd finally be able to pursue my interest in Medicine. She said that Lady Dextrem would make sure of it."

Ulric held her gaze as a questions surged in and out of his head. He could not quite put his finger on it but there was something interesting about that Madame de Lucci. On his journey to Camden, he'd see what he could find out about her as well.

"You did the right thing, Audelia," he said. "By running away. It was dangerous and you could have been hurt much further...but you were brave. And you survived."

She sniffed and gazed down at her lap. "I was scared most of the time, Bryce. So scared but I had to get as far away as I could. I didn't love stealing but--"

"Shhh." Ulric moved in closer and tucked her into his arms. On his neck, he could feel the softness droplets of her tears. "You're okay now. You won't have to steal again."

"When I saw you that night, all I saw was my way to earn a few coins and get the hell out of Thornea. I planned on moving on, finding some place new."

"You did what you had to do to survive. You had no resources. The one source you'd seen, betrayed your trust."

"I don't want to see them again, Bryce. Either of them. I...I don't want to go back."

Blood pounded in his ears and Ulric held her face in his hands, wiping streams of tears away with his thumbs. The sight of her crying and hurting broke his heart, shattered it. He would do anything to make her smile again, to assure her that she was safe where she was.

"Listen to me, Audelia. I won't let anything happen to you. Lord Dextrem, his wife, the Madame; you won't ever have to see them again. I'll protect you from them. But I need you to trust me. I need you to know that I won't hurt you, that I will keep you safe."

Audelia bit down hard on her bottom lip, closing her eyes for just a moment, dampen lashes fanning out against smooth skin. "I trust you, Bryce. I trust you."

"Thank God." Ulric brushed lips against hers initially but the moment he had, a warm sensation slowly surged its way up his spine and through to his heart. He just needed more. Just a little...more. Deepening the kiss, he weaved his hand through the hair at the back of Audelia's head and pulled her in. Such sweetness, such mind blowing sensations were bound to drive him into a state of surrender. A state of warm, refreshing...passionate bliss that he was not sure he would ever like to return from. God, he was bound to fall deeply and irreversibly in love with her. That's if he hadn't already.

Ulric's palms tingled as they found the loose ties at her neckline and his thumb had just brushed across one hard nipple when she stiffened. Sighing, he brushed a tender kiss to her neck and swallowed. He wanted her but he had no intention of forcing her. Not ever.

"I'm sorry," he muttered against her cheek. "We don't have to do anything if you do not wish it."

He felt her brief nod and then looked down. Audelia's eyes were like a mirror to his own soul and the door to his future, both at the same time.

"I...I..." She faltered as if uncertain and then met his gaze again. "I do have one wish at the moment."

Ulric tipped her chin, his other hand bringing her fingers up to his lips. "Anything."

"Can you...can you pray with me for a while?"

Although he'd been caught a bit off guard by her request, Ulric did not show it. It had been a long time since he'd prayed at all. But he was prepared to do it. To try. For her.

Twenty

"It seems we have new neighbors, Jemison," Lady Dextrem said, her attention focused on the book she'd been reading since this morning. She'd placed a fine wager with her good friend, Lady Anabel, that she'd finish it before the first crack of dawn.

Her husband barely uttered a response as he adjusted his reading spectacles, gazing down at a sheet of parchment. "I see."

Lady Dextrem continued. "I believe they are Mr and Mrs. Clemson. The gentleman is a retired soldier who has earned a rather vast amount of wealth through trade. I hear his wife is from a very respectable family as well. They should make good company."

"Just the type you like, Camilla," he returned, passing her a fleeting glance. "I suppose you'll pay them a visit first thing in the morning?"

"Of course. Whyever would I not?" She inclined her chin stubbornly. "I hear they have children too. Two little girls."

Lord Dextrem eyed his wife and sighed. "Whatever you are getting at, I do not wish to discuss it."

"Well, we must at some point."

"Camilla!" Lord Dextrem clenched his fists and released a heavy breath. "Please. For once, allow me some peace."

Lady Dextrem's lips flattened into a thin line and she rose, leaving the room. Not that her husband would try to stop her. He never did.

Reclining in his chair, Lord Dextrem ran an exasperated hand over his hair and sighed. He was bound to go crazy if he did not receive some form of notice soon. His journey to Thornea had proven to be fruitless and a waste of his time. Though he had been able to catch up with Lorena, a very very old friend, he had not found out anything that might have pointed him to the location of the girl. How far could she really had gotten? He knew it had been several months, but surely Audelia Rolfen hadn't the support or courage to get too far.

He had only gone searching for the chit because his blasted wife had driven him to. That, and because he and Madame de Lucci had an agreement he had no intention of forgetting. Audelia Rolfen must be found at all costs or his wife's pestering would drive him to an early death.

"Your lordship?"

Glancing up suddenly, he realized that one of his footmen had entered the room. "Yes?"

"This missive arrived earlier for you, milord."

"Hand it over here, then."

The footman delivered the neatly folded parchment, bowed and then backed out of the room.

Lord Dextrem broke the seal on the missive and jumped out of his seat when he recognized Madame de Lucci's handwriting. His throat immediately clogged with anxiety as he read through her scribble.

' _Dear Jemison,_

I write you now because I have received some rather startling news about our little fugitive. It is with great confidence that I am convinced she has managed to reach Chastelle...'

"Chastelle?" Lord Dextrem almost bellowed. "How in bloody hell as she gotten there?"

'and may very well be within the household of Lord Chastelle, employed as a servant or something of the sort. I am making it my duty to take a look into the matter and find out Audelia's exact whereabouts. In the meanwhile, you must sit still and await my return. I shall send you another missive as I do not intend on returning without her.

Our agreement still stands, Jemison. Don't you doubt that and you will have what you've always wanted. Rest easy and take care for now.

Your friend,

M.

"Rest easy?" Lord Dextrem snorted and moved across the room to a small counter, pouring himself a drink. He had already invested a good many coin into that girl and he refused to be a sore loser. At least Madame de Lucci was right about one thing. Their agreement still stood.

Running a finger across the long thin scar that extended from the corner of his mouth to his left earlobe, Lord Dextrem swallowed down half of his drink and groaned as it burned its way down his throat. The little wretch was going to pay for her actions one way or another and he was going to make sure of it.

The wench had been a good little romp too, he had to admit it. But it would have been far more enjoyable if she hadn't been kicking and scratching like a wild creature. From the day he'd first seen her, Lord Dextrem's attraction to Audelia had surged to his manhood like a burning need. Yes, Miss Rolfen was certainly a pretty little thing. And though her presence at Dextrem House had been for an entirely difference purpose--well, not entirely\--he simply had not been able to control himself. The wench was a walking temptation, a sweet passing distraction from his nagging wife.

Moving up to a window, he stared out across his wife's wide gardens and towards the house their new neighbors had occupied. He'd seen the two little girls Lady Dextrem had spoken of earlier during the eve; two little scamps with brown pigtails and toothy grins. Such innocence...

Draining his glass, Lord Dextrem swallowed thickly and exhaled. It would be a long night, he could tell. No doubt, his wife was already awaiting him in their chamber to lecture him on the significance of children. Sliding the glass back onto the counter with a heavy clink, he shrugged out of his jacket and walked stiffly from the room.

* * *

"Need another glass, mister?"

Edwin glanced up from the missive he'd just received and forced a smile. The messenger had but dumped the parchment in his hands and took off without a word. "No, thank you, sweetheart. But perhaps you'll bless me with your rather...bountiful company when I'm through."

The woman adjusted her bountiful cleavage and giggled. Obviously the wench was new because every other maid in the building knew he did not look for favors inside the bar. They knew exactly the place to meet him for a little fun. "Anything you want, darling. How about a hour or so from now?"

"I'll come find you."

Edwin's smile remained on the wench until she'd made her way across to the bar and started attending to other patrons. His gaze riveted to the letter and he unfolded it quickly. Neatly scribbled writing flowed across the paper and he read with keen interest, his anxiety slowly increasing as he went on.

' _Dear Edwin,_

I heard father speaking of a matter you had put across him just this morning by letter. I inquired with him for the full details and found that the same things that are puzzling you, have managed to find way into my own newly found happiness.

As you must know by now, I am betrothed; have been for a week and have full intention of wedding my bride before month's end. She's a sweet little thing with the biggest heart a man could wish for. But let me not bore you with my rambling as we all know you've never taken much interest in the more...affectionate benefits a man can experience from being with a woman.

Father has disclosed a rather startling and unsettling information about the woman you have made your inquires about and though I wish I never had to discover such disgusting details, I must share it anyways.

It appears my new bride had been in Madame de Lucci's care for some time, where she had been introduced to my father for a chance to become his ward. During her visits to our household over the last two months, I had developed a great fondness for Jocelyn and decided to marry her instead. It appears that Madame de Lucci had not been quite content with my decision and Father had offered her some form of settlement to mediate the situation.

I'm somewhat pleased now as, when I look back, my bride had not seemed quite enthused to remain in further company with the Madame. Perhaps it is all in my head, but a part of me feels like Madame de Lucci had planned the entire meeting, convinced I would have made an offer for Jocelyn's hand and that Father would have done anything to see to my happiness. I am glad that Jocelyn and I had managed to cross paths but the fact that Father had bought my bride still remains. It is that precise detail that bothers me most.

I believe I have matured much over the past year and am no longer the type of man to make eager judgments but I believe Madame de Lucci is operating an establishment that may very well be disregarding the laws of this country. Please take heed, for a woman who operates as she does must have support from very high seats in society.

Your Cousin,

Charmont.

"Great Jesu!" Edwin stuffed the missive into the inside pocket of his coat and moved quickly through the congested bar, cigar smoke burning his eyes. By the time he'd reached the door, the voluptuous wench had managed to weasel her way across the room, blocking his exit.

"Leaving so soon, mister? Thought you we had a rendezvous?"

Edwin chuckled despite his sudden irritation. "Perhaps another time. I have a family emergency to attend you so please accept my apologies. In the mean time..." He reached into his pocket and pressed a pretty coin into the middle of her palm. "Keep this warm for me. I'm confident we shall meet again."

Smiling, the wench pocketed the coin and pressed a sound kiss on his mouth. Perhaps if I had truly been in the mood, Edwin would have taken her up on the offer. But he had urgent matters to attend to and would waste no more time here. It had taken him around ten minute's ride from Chastelle town to reach the manor and as soon as he'd arrived, he'd found Ulric and whisked him off to somewhere they could speak privately. Thank heavens Miss Rolfen was asleep when he had.

At present, they were both standing in Ulric's study and Edwin watched as his friend read...and re-read the missive.

"What do you propose he means?" Edwin asked, rubbing the corner of one eye. God, he needed some good sleep!

"Madame de Lucci may be operating a sham," Ulric deduced, scratching his temple. "Based on your cousin's concern, he believes she might be selling off young women to wealthy men."

"That's a great accusation to make, Ulric. And as Charmont said, she may have the support of other wealthy men. Like Lord Dextrem. And that is not a good look at all. Who knows who else the woman has in her corner."

Ulric sighed and ran a palm over his face. "In that case, it's not just about Audelia, your cousin's bride...or the already dead Lord Dextrem. It's about dozens of young women who are being brainwashed with ideas of a future at the expense of earning Madame de Lucci a pretty coin. The men who...buy these girls may have despicable intentions and only God knows what else."

"Good gracious." Edwin groaned, pacing the room. "What would have been Lord Dextrem's intention then? Surely he would not expect to take up a ward as his mistress, beneath his wife's nose."

Sighing, Ulric shook his head and leaned against his desk. "We'll find out tomorrow when he have the bastard. For now, get some shut eye. You look like a mess."

"So do you." Edwin eyed hum dubiously. "You don't look very...murderous right now as I'd expected."

"Yes, well I've been praying."

Mouth agape and eyes wide, Edwin regarded his good friend, hardly believing a word he was hearing. Praying? Since when did Ulric St. Rosso engage in such religious forms of activity? Edwin could admit that he, himself, had not sent out a good honest prayer in a long while but Ulric's word had startled him to the core.

"Praying?" he said. "To God?"

"Yes, Edwin." The man even had a smile on his face while he said so. "Audelia convinced me to pray with her tonight. It was a rather...calming experience."

"Oh." Edwin rocked on his heels and scratched his jaw. "Well then. Good for you. I suppose I should get that shut eye now. Good night."

Ulric chuckled softly. "Pray too if you want to, Edwin. At least He won't jest at you."

Twenty-one

"Your lordship!"

Ulric shove his shirt into his breeches and slid his feet inside his boots. "What is it, Gilgallon?"

The guard's voice came muffled from the other side of the door. "You have a visitor, Sir."

Cursing, he finished straightening his clothing and grabbed his cloak. "Who in devil's name visits this early in the morning?"

"It's a woman, milord. She's come alone."

Ulric opened the door and directed his glare at the guard. "I have business to attend to, Gilgallon. And it cannot wait."

"Sir, I believe, one of your footmen have already let her inside and seated her in the parlor."

"Goddamn it!" Ulric shrugged on his cloak. "Find Edwin and let him know of the situation. Whoever she is, she'd better not be long." Glancing through the door to his adjoining bedchamber, Ulric sighed, grateful that he had not woken Audelia. He then left his dressing room and headed down the stairs. He had no female acquaintances so who the hell was making a call at his house?

He arrived in the parlor precisely two minutes later and swing the door open.

"Madam, I will get right at it. It is not proper at all to make a social call so early in the morning. I could have still been abed and that would make you a grave disturbance."

The short plump woman turned to face him, brows raised with apparent surprise. She was an older woman, could possibly be Ulric's mother but that mattered not. He had a feeling the woman was being brash on purpose and he did not like it.

"Forgive me, Your Lordship. I might have misjudged my timing. But I was sent on behalf of my employer, Lady Shentil."

Of all the... "What could Lady Shentil possibly want with me?"

The woman retrieved a stack of papers from the center table between the armchairs, and it was then that Ulric's gaze had averted from hers.

"To seek your interest in a matter, Sir." The woman walked up to him and held the papers out to him. "Her Ladyship has it on good authority that you would be a fine addition to her list of worthy benefactors."

Benefactors, benefactors. Ulric was quite fed up with the blasted word. He took the papers and skimmed through them. They were just documents and pamphlets, giving a summary of the aims of Lady Shentil's establishment. Ulric scowled and handed her back the papers.

"On whose authority?"

"Lady Hyslop, sir. Your sister."

Rubbish. Ryia would have never said such a thing; would have never suggested him as a benefactor. And if she had, Ulric knew she would have confessed it. "What is your name?"

The woman flustered but quickly regained composure. "Bette Tulley, sir. Miss Bette Tulley."

Ulric resisted the urge to growl. "Well Miss Bette Tulley, you and Lady Shentil are wasting your time. I am not interested in becoming a benefactor."

"But, Your Lordship, think of a poor girl who could benefit from your kindness."

"Then I shall adopt one when I feel I am ready to."

Miss Tulley pursed her lips. "In that case, you can always offer up a generous donation. I'm sure--"

Ulric released a harsh breath. For one fleeting moment, he had started to think that Lady Shentil was just like this rotten Madame de Lucci. "Look, take no offense here but you've interrupted plans which are very important to me. Give Lady Shentil my regards. I must be going."

"Your Lordship--"

Ulric ushered the woman, sputtering and whining, through the room and down the empty hall. As soon as he managed to take her through the front door, he watched as she reluctantly--and quite angrily--embarked her carriage. The vehicle was off his estate faster than even he had expected. Good riddance.

Still scowling, he turned with the intention of finding Edwin when he bumped right into him.

"Sorry." His friend mumbled. "I overslept just a bit but I am up and ready to go. Who was the woman?"

"Some employee of Lady Shentil."

They started back for the parlor. "Lady Shentil? What does she want?"

"A benefactor." Irritation itched at Ulric like a biting tick. "Is there a growing business surrounding benefactors that I don't know about? The word alone has managed to get deep under my damn skin."

Edwin shrugged. "We better get going so that we can get to Camden by sunset the latest."

"Alright. Let's go."

"Bryce," Audelia's soft voice came from the half opened door and both men turned to look at her. "What was she doing here?"

"Who?" Ulric reached for her and brushed the loose tendrils from her face. She still looked a bit tired, eyes still red from her weeping the night before.

Audelia swallowed, glanced at Edwin and then back at him. "Miss Darcott."

"Miss Darcott?" Edwin frowned and looked to Ulric. "Who's Miss Darcott."

"Madame de Lucci's assistant."

"But--" Ulric rubbed his jaw and frowned. "She said her name was Miss Tulley. Bette Tulley."

Audelia shook her head insistently. "No. That was Miss Darcott. I saw her, Bryce. I saw from the window. It was her."

"Are you sure? You might have mist--"

"No!" Audelia glared at him, her arms akimbo at her waist. "I know what I saw and that was Miss Darcott. I could not mistake that face. Ever."

"Good god!" Ulric ran both hands through his hair this time and groaned. "If that was Miss Darcott, then..."

"Then Madame de Lucci is an impostor," Edwin interjected. "Jesus, Lady Shentil and her could rightly be the same person."

"Shit!" Ulric paced the room a little and then reached for Audelia. "Do you have your dagger?"

"Y-Yes."

"Good. Keep it and use it whenever necessary. I don't know what but I think Madame de Lucci could very well be within our vicinity. Gilgallon will be by your side at all times. Do not leave the house, do you understand?"

Edwin cleared his throat, already moving towards the door. "I'll go speak with the guard briefly and grab my satchel while you finish up here."

Ulric nodded, knowing that his friend had only meant to give them a few minutes of privacy.

"Please be careful," she said. "God knows what Madame de Lucci could be capable of."

"Just promise me that you will remain close to Gilgallon."

Nodding, Audelia reached up on her toes, wrapping her arms about Ulric's neck. "At least kiss me, Bryce," she muttered, her beautiful eyes enveloped by sadness. "At least then, I'll be convinced that everything will be alright."

Ulric did not hesitate. He did not linger with it. Audelia's lips against his was like flame, igniting a passion within him that he desperately needed to embrace, to accept. Audelia Rolfen had bewitched him and he was not unhappy about it.

"I should tell you something," he said after pressing his lips to her forehead. "The friend that you had mentioned last night--"

"Jocelyn?" Her eyes widened as she spoke. "What about her? Did Miss Darcott mention her? But she's been married for some time now."

"Married?" Ulric frowned and shook his head.

"Yes. Right after I-I ran away from Camden. I heard some people in the streets talking about how Madame de Lucci had succeeded at pairing off another of her...girls. She was next in line after me."

"Audelia." Ulric pressed his finger against her lips and smiled. "No. Your friend is in Henshire. That is where Edwin had gone. It's where his family is located."

"But--"

"Yes. She's betrothed to Edwin's second cousin, Charmont, and is to be married soon. Whoever you thought had been married off all those months ago was not her."

Tears glistened in Audelia's eyes and she blinked, taking in a well needed breath."You're absolutely certain?"

"Beyond certain. He confirmed it in a missive that was delivered to Edwin just last night. She's okay and out of Madame de Lucci's clutches."

Audelia swallowed, releasing a heavy breath of relief. She'd wondered for months if Jocelyn had been put in good hands, if she was happy. She'd pondered on it, wondering if Jocelyn's benefactor was as horrible as hers were to her. But it seemed as if she was okay. She was...alright.

Letting out a light laugh, she attempted to bat away her impending tears. "So she's alright then. Jocelyn is safe. Isn't she?"

"Very much so. It seems as if Charmont cares deeply for her and had offered for her hand before his father had even accepted her as his ward. Rest assured, Audelia, the Montagus are some of the kindest people I know." Ulric pressed a kiss to her lips, happy that he had managed to give her some comfort. "You need not be worried about her."
Audelia swallowed and smiled, a wave of relief and joy washing over her. Though she was still anxious and afraid over the impending situation concerning Madame de Lucci and Lord Dextrem, she was still happy to know that her friend was alright.

With her face pressed against Ulric's warm chest, she inhaled deeply, taking in his refreshing manly scent. This man must truly care for her to be taking her well-fare and safety in his own hands. Throughout the long months that Audelia had spent out on the streets, rummaging for food...stealing, no one had been so kind to her. She had not forgotten the circumstances that had prompted her and Ulric to meet. Or that he had not been kind to her initially either. But she could see the changes in him. She could see the warmth in his eyes, could feel the comfort in his arms.

"Take caution, Bryce," she uttered against his shirt. "I find that I no longer hate you overly much and would not like to see anything bad happen to you."

Ulric's laughter vibrated against her ear and she allowed herself a small smile. "Is that your way of saying that you like me, Audelia?"

Keeping her gaze connected to the bridge of his nose, Audelia toyed with his shirt sleeves lest she was trapped by those beautiful green eyes and lost all her senses. "I might like you more if you return in one piece."

Ulric grinned and tipped her chin, searching her glossy eyes. "Your affection is very hard to win, isn't it?"

Chuckling, she pressed a sift kiss to the corner of his mouth and stepped out of his embrace. "Edwin must be waiting for you, I suppose."

"Of course." Ulric frowned and watched her as she moved towards the window. He could hardly tell what she was thinking but something was obviously troubling her. "Audelia?"

"Yes?" She turned to look at him over her shoulder.

"We shall speak when I return." And before she could muster up a reply, Ulric strode from the room.

Audelia inhaled a shaky breath, trying to calm her nerves. In truth, she was terribly worried about Ulric. Worried that he and Edwin might run into more trouble than they all were anticipating. And it would all be at her expense. It would be left to torment her conscience if anything were to happen to them. Perhaps, it was high time she exercised trust and faith. If only advice was more easily taken than said.

"Miss Rolfen." Turning, she recognized Gilgallon standing just inside the doorway, a tray of food in hand. "Cook has prepared a rather...generous breakfast tray for you." He hinted the small tea pot on the tray and smiled. "Hot cocoa is well known to help calm the nerves."

"I...I don't think I have much of an appetite this morning, Gilgallon. But thank you."

"We all have to eat," he encouraged, the smile on his rugged face odd and welcoming at the same time. "His Lordship would not be pleased to hear that you are standing by that window looking so depressed. And Cook does hate when her food goes to waste."

Shaking her head, Audelia looked at the man and fought against smiling, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Fine then. But I doubt I can eat all of that. You shall have to help me."

"Not a problem." Gilgallon offered Audelia his arm when she reached him, relieved when she took it. "Off to the library we go. I hear it's your favorite room in the house And maybe there, you can continue my lesson on chess playing."

Twenty-two

Ulric guided Gray through the already thickening crowd of Thornea, lowering the brim of his hat from the bright morning sun's rays. Edwin was close behind him as they trotted around the merchant stalls, keeping along the road which would lead them straight out of the small district.

"It's like these people never rest," Edwin said, riding up to next to him.

"They come out early to catch passing merchants. That, or they have fleas in their beds."

Edwin chuckled. "Do you believe that Lady Shentil may very well be Madame de Lucci?"

Ulric frowned, hands tightening on the reigns as he maneuvered pass a cart driver. "Do you?"

"Truthfully, I don't know what to believe," his friend confessed. "All I know is that Lord Dextrem is connected to Miss Rolfen, and her to the Madame. If we find Dextrem, it's possible we could get a lead on her as well."

"I believe so too. In the meanwhile, let us keep our eyes open. Either of them could be right beneath our noses. We must move--"

"Your Lordship!"

"What is hell's name...?" Ulric yanked on the reigns as Gray bucked upwards, bursting out a sharp teeth-rattling neigh.

"Move, man!" Edwin's voice rang out viciously. "Are you trying to get Lord Chastelle killed?"

Finally managing to settle Gray, Ulric released a heavy breath and looked down at the balding innkeeper named Hester. "Are you a fool? My horse could have thrown me and then where would you be?"

"My apologies, sir," Hester said, glancing about him anxiously, passing a fuming Edwin a contrite glance. "I believe that I have some news which would please you greatly."

"Speak quickly then. We are in a hurry.'

Hester moved timidly closer to Ulric's snorting mount and swallowed. "A gent came into the inn just last night, milord. Very late last night, in fact. He was asking about that girl you'd mentioned the other day."

Ulric sent a serious look Edwin's direction. "What did he ask?"

The man puffed out his chest as if suddenly feeling important. "He said that she was his daughter who had been taken many months ago by men out for a reward."

"Horseshit!" Edwin snorted. "What did you tell him?"

"N-nothing, milord. Only that I haven't seen her."

Ulric raised a dubious brow at him, glanced at Edwin and the back. "And what have I done to deserve such....loyalty?"

"Well..." Hester rocked on his heels and fidgeted. "I was thinking, Sir, that you might be a little generous."

Reaching into his cloak's pocket, Ulric dumped a few coins to the man. "Is he still in the inn then?"

"Y-yes, sir. Having an early breakfast, I believe. Room 9 to be exact."

Ulric jumped off his horse and shoved the reigns into the innkeeper's hands. "Watch these horses. Edwin? I believe we have to pay our dear friend in Room 9 a visit."

"I would not mind at all."

Ulric shove pass Hester as he and Edwin bounded up the short steps which lead inside the inn. The hall was empty and they found the wooden staircase quite quickly. He was on the third step when Edwin's hand clamped on to his shoulder.

"The gent could very well be Dextrem," he whispered. "What if he is not alone?"

"I'll take my chances. But if it is Dextrem, then he just saved us one hell of a journey."

Edwin reached into the side of his boot for a knife and nodded. "After you."

The steps creaked softly as they made their way up and towards to the landing. "It's right down this hall," Ulric said. "Stay alert."

"You know what whiskey does to me," Edwin snickered softly. "Drank a hefty amount just before I left. I'll not rest for a couple days."

Smiling, Ulric moved down the empty hall and stopped just outside the door of Room 9. Inside they could hear the faintest of shuffling, a female's giggle...and then a deep moan. Both men exchanged glances and Ulric shook his head. "He has rather varied tastes in breakfast, don't you think?"

Edwin nudged him lightly in the back. "I say we interrupt the course and give him something else to feast on."

"Great minds think very much alike, Edwin." And with that, Ulric took a deep breath and slowly spun the door knob.

Inside he could make out what seemed to be Dextrem's head, between two slender thighs, the panting female clutching onto the brute's head as if her life depended on it. Edwin kicked over the small table by the door and the man jumped up fast, his female companion letting out a frightened shriek.

"Chastelle?" Dextrem wiped his mouth on his shirt sleeve and cocked his head. "What in devil's name are you doing here? Ah...and with your sidekick too."

The woman took that moment to flee the room, taking the cover sheets with her as she went scrambling.

"You're a long way from Camden, aren't you Dextrem?" Ulric maintained his stance, glaring at the man. "How does your wife feel about you dallying with whores?"

"That's hardly any of your business. What do you want?"

"How about your testicles first and then we can negotiate on your life."

Dextrem's glance flickered between both men and then towards the closed door behind them. "Whatever this is about, I am sure we can discuss it like gentlemen."

"You pretend to be ignorant then?"

"I say we just go straight to cutting," Edwin interjected, fingers tightening around the handle of his knife.

"What is heaven's name, is this all about, Chastelle?" Dextrem swallowed tightly as he eased slowly towards the bed. "The last I've seen either of you was over a year ago. And we've never had any form of disagreement."

"Do not move another inch." Ulric marched up to the man and shove him against the wall. "We have a major disagreement, you bastard, and you better admit to it before I gut you like a goddamn fish!"

"I...I do not know what you are talking about. I am a respectable man," he stuttered. "I do not take part in...barbaric activities."

"Blasted moron!" Edwin spat and spun the lock on the door. "Give him a sound fist to the jaw for good measure."

Ulric grabbed Dextrem by the collar and slammed him against the wall. "You...hurt her. You raped her and thought you'd get away with it?"

Dextrem's eyes widened at that point, his mouth opening and closing like a gaping fish. "I...raped no one."

Ulric gripped the man by the neck and delivered a fist to his gut. Dextrem wheezed and faltered. "She looked to you for support and you took advantage of her, you ugly piece of shit!"

"She was a damn temptress who got what she deserved!" Dextrem yelled, which earned him a solid punch to the jaw, sending him sliding to the floor.

"Hold him up, Edwin!" Ulric paced quickly, running his hands over his face. His friend came up abruptly, forcing the man up and clamping Dextrem's arms painfully behind him. The man yowled in agony, trying to free himself from the hold.

"What do you mean; to kill me?" he said, spitting blood from his mouth. "The girl's nothing to you."

"That's where you are wrong," Ulric growled, ramming his knee into Dextrem's gut. "She means a great deal to me and as long you're around, she will never be at peace."

Letting out a pained chuckle, Dextrem threw his head back and laughed. "She belongs to me, Chastelle. She'll never be yours. I am her benefactor. I bought the little whore fair and square."

This time it was Edwin who delivered the blow, his elbow connecting sharply with the side of Dextrem's head.

"Fuck!" The man crawled towards the bed, gasping. "You bloody bastards."

"Last I checked," Edwin snarled. "You're the one covered in blood. Where is Madame de Lucci?"

"What makes you.."--coughs--"What makes you...think that I know?"

"We know she is somewhere nearby," Ulric gritted out, grabbing him by the hair. "And we know that she's the one who gave Audelia to you. Where the hell is she?"

"I don't know."

Ulric rammed his knuckles into Dextrem's lower back. "You better start talking before I lose my patience."

"Madame de Lucci runs a shady establishment that she claims is to help young women with finding supportive guardians," Edwin began. "She sold Miss Rolfen to you, didn't she?"

Dextrem heaved sharply, his hand grasping Ulric's hand where he gripped painfully on his hair. "Okay, fine. L-let me up and I shall tell you...what you want to know."

Ulric glanced at Edwin and then back at Dextrem before shoving the man down. Standing, he rammed his boot into the brute's side. "Get up!"

Dextrem struggled to his feet, wiping his bloody mouth against his shoulder and slumped against a nearby table. "Madame de Lucci came to me with a business proposition. She said she'd heard of my wife's situation and--"

"What situation?" Ulric stepped closer.

"Lady Dextrem is a barren woman, Chastelle," he spat bitterly. "We've been married fifteen years and still she cannot provide me with an heir. The Madame brought me our salvation in the form of a promising wench."

Bile rose up into Ulric's throat as he listened to the man. "Are you trying to tell me that you meant to impregnate Audelia?" He spat at the man's feet. "And your wife had agreed to this...this madness?"

The man snorted and Edwin made after him with the knife but Ulric stayed his friend's movements. His own mind was swirling with disgust and rage that he could not even fathom what the hell was going on. "Of course not. My wife is so bloody righteous, she wouldn't even end this damn search for the little wretch." Dextrem ran his hand over his head and clutched his side. "I paid very pretty coins to Madame de Lucci for that girl and I will not stand the loss."

"Listen to me, you piece of shit!" Ulric grabbed him by the collar and growled in his face. "You are going to stand that loss and you are going to do it gladly, you hear me?"

"Or what?"

Ulric dropped his hands, took two steps back and glanced to his right. "Edwin?"

"My pleasure." Edwin shove his blade against Dextrem's neck, the sharp edge a hair's breadth from the skin of his throat. "Or else, I am going to wipe my blade against your pretty little throat. Your wife being righteous and all, I'm sure she would not like to be forced to bury a headless body." Dextrem gulped visibly, his gaze focused on the blade at his throat. "Do we have an agreement?"

The man glanced upwards and breathed through clenched teeth. "Yes."

"Tsk. I don't think we heard that clearly, Dextrem," Edwin said in a taunting voice. "Did you hear that, Ulric?"

"Not a sound." Ulric crossed his arms. "Perhaps you should press the blade a little closer and see."

"I said, yes, goddamn it! Yes!" Dextrem snapped, his gaze as wild as a deer's during hunting season.

"Weakling," Edwin chuckled and stepped back.

Ulric shook his head. "Now, I'm only going to ask one more time. Where is Madame de Lucci?"

Dextrem rubbed a hand along his throat and huffed. "The harlot must be somewhere in Chastelle or thereabout."

Ulric's blood immediately spiked to boiling temperature, all the feeling rushing from his hands as Edwin's voice rang out, "Chastelle?"

Snatching the blade from his friend's hand, Ulric slapped the handle firmly against the side of Dextrem's head. The man fell out cold against the wooden floor with a heavy thud. "Let's tie him up." Ripping the remaining sheets from the bed, Ulric made a firm knot around Dextrem's feet while Edwin secured his hands and mouth. "If Madame de Lucci is in Chastelle then she bloody hell is nearer to Audelia than we are."

Edwin cursed. "Then we have to go. Now."

Ulric stumbled from the room, Edwin behind him, as they quickly fled the building. He had strong faith and trust that Gilgallon would protect Audelia well. But as he mounted his horse and sent Gray into a speedy gallop, the apprehension surging through his body felt very far from easing.

Twenty-three

The night was cool and silent, and in her bedchamber was a lone flame, the candle half burnt as she remained steadfast and determined to complete her reading. Audelia rubbed her right eye, blinked and flipped one of few remaining pages of the medicinal manuscript she had taken from the library. She knew she was half asleep already but so much knowledge...so many facts were now at her disposal and it almost felt as if she could not get enough.

She had almost missed the knock on her door several moments later, for it had come so softly and only once. Glancing up, she looked in the direction of the door, catching the still shadow beneath it. The door came once again and she released a breath, relieved she had not been imagining things.

" _Is someone there?" she asked._

" _Uh, yes, Audelia. It is me. Lord Dextrem. Uncle Dextrem, if you will. May I come in?"_

Frowning slightly, she slid from beneath the covers and reached for the candle. Why was he here?"Just a moment."

Pulling on a robe over her nightgown, Audelia then opened the door to see His Lordship standing in the hall. In his hands was a tray bearing two steaming mugs of tea.

" _I...could not sleep," he said, chuckling sadly. "And when I saw that you were up as well, I feared that something might be troubling you."_

Audelia shook her head and smiled. "Not at all. I...I was just finishing up some reading."

Lord Dextrem stepped over the threshold and Audelia moved aside to let him pass, closing the door afterwards.

" _I've seen that you are very fond of reading. You spend most of your time in the library and when you're not there, you are in here doing God knows what." Lord Dextrem chuckled and placed the tray on a table opposite the bed. "You must know, Audelia, that we are family now and you need not be afraid to speak to me about anything. Or my wife, for that matter."_

She shook her head. "I'm not afraid. Just slowly adjusting, is all."

His Lordship looked at her for a long time, his gaze oddly unsettling and Audelia felt a shudder run up her spine. She had not forgotten his surprising kiss only a few days before and the fact that he was here, standing inside her bedroom at nighttime, troubled her deeply.

" _My wife tells me that you are interested in Medicine," he said, taking a seat in the armchair nearer to the bed. "That you have aspirations of...learning the related skills."_

Joy immediately replaced some of her anxiety and Audelia sat on the edge of her bed, smiling. "I do, Your Lordship. I've been reading about it just now." She gestured to the manuscript on her pillow. "I am so fascinated by it all. Perhaps, if given the chance, I will be able to help people one day."

" _That is a grand ambition, dear." His Lordship reached for his tea and took a sip. "Surely, you must know that while you are under our care there is nothing that you cannot have." He leaned forward in his chair and smiled. "Audelia, you are our ward now. And we have the resources and connections to grant you anything you wish."_

" _I know," she said._

Lord Dextrem nodded and handed the other mug to her. "Good. Because I want to ensure that you are comfortable here at all times. We both do. Lady Dextrem is also very fond of you and seeks to make you into the most cherished of young ladies."

Audelia smiled and sipped on the warm beverage. "Thank you, Sir. That truly means a lot to me."

Lord Dextrem nodded once more and eased to his feet, only to sit right next to her. Audelia jumped, stunned by the bold move and almost spilled her tea. She then felt his hand clamp over her wrist, taking the cup from her hand.

" _Do not be frightened, Audelia," he whispered. "I do not mean to startle you but only to confide in you."_

Her gaze flickered nervously between Lord Dextrem's and his firm grip. "A-About what, Sir?"

" _About us."_

The look in his eyes terrified Audelia and she pulled on her hand, only to be pulled up hard against His Lordship's hard frame. She gasped, a thick lump of dread suddenly clogging her throat. "Us?"

" _Yes. Us. Do you not remember that...passionate kiss we shared, Audelia?"_

Oh, she remembered that kiss quite well but Audelia feared that they both had very different recollections of the incident. There had not been anything passionate about the moment and it most assuredly had not been shared. Lord Dextrem had accosted her in the sitting room and forced himself on her, taking a kiss that was never to be his and that which had left very horrible memories.

" _It was a mistake," she uttered, shakily. "It should not have happened, milord."_

" _Nonsense." He moved his face closer, so close his hot breath sent a rash of goosebumps crawling down Audelia's neck. "What you'd experienced was a man's kiss, Audelia. Had you ever been kissed before?"_

She hadn't but she saw no reason to answer that. "You must release me. I beg it of you. Please, let me go."

" _I don't think I can do that, Audelia." Lord Dextrem brushed his lips across her face and inhaled. "You smell so refreshing. So...innocent."_

" _Please." Tears welled up into her eyes as she felt His Lordship's hand moving up her side and to the underside of her left breast. "Please don't do this."_

Lord Dextrem released a pained groan, the tip of his tongue licking against her cheek. "Do not make a sound." And her shove her down onto the bed, immediately using his weight to hold her down.

" _No. No!" Panic struck Audelia as the tears came streaming down her face. "Please! I'll scream... I'll scream. I promise I will."_

His Lordship's palm came slapping hard across her face and Audelia cringed at the burning pain at the side of her head. "I know you're smarter than that, Audelia." And he reached for the dagger in his waist, holding it firmly at her throat. "It's amazing what us wealthy people can get away with, wench. Do not test me."

Audelia eyes cracked open, her heart racing as she rose from the horrible dream. The horrible memory. Glancing about the room, she held a hand over her heart, relieved that she still was, in fact, inside the library at Chastelle Manor. Rising from the sofa where she had apparently fallen asleep, she looked up to see Gilgallon still at the table, studying the chess pieces. They had been playing nearly three hours and she hardly remembered when she had fallen asleep...or how she had ended up over here.

"You still won't beat me," she said.

The guard looked up sharply but returned his gaze to the board a second later. "Show off."

Audelia giggled. "How long have I been sleeping?"

"Possibly a hour now."

"Oh. Uh...Gilgallon?"

"Miss Rolfen?"

"I know Bryce--er, His Lordship said I am not to leave the house but I fear that I feel a bit...dreary and in need of a bit of fresh air."

"His Lordship would not like if his command is disobeyed, Miss."

"I know. But you will be with me all the time. Just a hour. Please."

Gilgallon glanced at her a moment and sighed. Perhaps one hour would not hurt. "One hour," he told her. "No more."

"Of course. I would like to pay Olearia a visit too."

"Who?"

"The young mare in the east stable."

"Oh. Well. Let's go then. The sooner we go, the sooner we are to return back to the house."

Audelia rose from her seat, smiling, and left the room with Gilgallon hot on her heels. At least the guard was loyal to his lord. She hadn't seen such lengths of loyalty before arriving at Chastelle Manor and she supposed such fidelity much be something great to behold, and more especially to the one receiving it."How long have you been under His Lordship's employ, Gilgallon?" she asked as they reached the end of the foyer.

The guard glanced at her briefly, holding the front door open for her to pass. "A very long time, Miss. Back in the days of the late Lord Chastelle."

"I hear he was a well-loved man," she said, moving down the steps and along the side of the gardens.

"Lord Viktor St. Rosso was not well-loved for nothing, Miss. He was respectable, kind...approachable."

Audelia nodded. "I suppose His Lordship must be pleased to have had a father such as that."

Gilgallon eyed Audelia a while, kicking a side a couple rocks from the path. "His Lordship is a good man also. He may... He might have lost his way for a while but he's a good man, Miss. I am as loyal to him as much as I had been loyal to his father."

Smiling to herself, Audelia chuckled when they reached the stable. Inside, they met up with Brutus, the jovial stable man.

"Brutus." Gilgallon nodded to the man and looked around the stable. "I see you've managed to move the rest of the mares."

Running a hand over his rounded belly, Brutus spat a piece of straw from the corner of his mouth and grinned. "Yes, I did. Look at them beauties now."

Audelia moved forward, looking at the freshly painted stalls, low gentle neighs coming from behind them. "How many are in here now?"

"Just eight, Miss." Brutus rest his hands on his hips and chuckled. "Nine more to go."

"Amazing." Moving slowly along the long aisle between the stalls. Audelia smiled when the mares came forward in their stalls, their heads protruding from the stall doors. "They're beautiful." It wasn't until she'd reached the sixth stall on the right that she recognized Olearia. "You moved her?"

Brutus cleared his throat and grinned. "I sure did." He pointed to a black mare who inhabited the second stall on the left. "Had a little girl fight going on with this one here."

A loud crushing sound followed by a horse's whinny came from a distance and all three turned to glance at the door. Audelia moved forward quickly. "What was that?"

"Sounds like a carriage. I'm not certain" Gilgallon said, holding his hand up to still her. "Stay here with Brutus while I take a look."

"Maybe His Lordship has returned," she said, eager to see Ulric if he had. Eager to see that he had returned in one piece and unhurt.

"His Lordship had not taken a carriage, Miss Rolfen. Stay here and do not move a muscle."

Audelia frowned as she watched Gilgallon leave the stable house, a strange twinge lodging itself at the back of her head. She paced back and forth along the aisle for a while, nibbling on her nails as she did so. She glanced up to find Brutus watching her, a questioning look on his face. Deciding to ignore the man, she paced some more and then threw up her hands with impatience.

"Perhaps, I should go see for myself."

Brutus' laughter rumbled deeply. "Take it easy, will you Miss? Gilgallon hasn't been gone for five minutes."

"You go take a look then."

Scratching the back of his head, Brutus screwed up his face in a child-like manner and shuffled his feet.

"Just calm down, will you?" He then kicked at a heap of straw next to him and settled down on it, patting his stomach. "The man should be back any time now."

Audelia almost growled with frustration. Shooting the stable man a glare or two, she resumed her pacing again, her hand checking for the dagger at her waist. Tapping her feet restlessly, she glanced between the napping man and the door, her heart thudding with worry and a twitch of fear. On tip toes, Audelia slowly eased towards the door and peeked outside. Nothing seemed amiss so she edged outside, her hand on the handle of her dagger as she moved along the side of the stable house and rounded a corner. Someone immediately stepped in her direct path and Audelia had almost mistaken him for Gilgallon, had she not jerked her head up in time.

Gasping, she immediately drew her dagger and pointed it at the strange man. "Who are you?"

"Let us not make this any harder than it needs to be, shall we?" The man's thick speech reached her ears, a smug grin on his face.

Audelia swallowed tightly, darting a glance around them but saw no one. Dear God, where was Gilgallon? "Did the Madame send you?"

The stranger chuckled and reached out for her but Audelia swung, her blade slitting a deep bloody wound across the man's cheek. "Bloody bitch!"

Twenty-four

Something strong and sharp smelling reached deep up inside her nostrils, dragging Audelia from a foggy state of unconsciousness. Immediately, the pain in her head registered and she groaned, rolling over onto her back. She did not open her eyes immediately in fear that she might very well be dead already and awaiting the Devil himself.

Something brushed against her bare ankle and she jumped up, shifting across a dusty ash floor. Where was she? Wincing, Audelia glanced up...and up, her gaze connecting with the wide open sky. Blinking, she groaned as a pain shot up her leg left and she dragged herself up in a sitting position, her back against a cold wall. The last thing she could remember was running into a strange man just outside the stable house. She'd swung her dagger and cut him. But all she knew was that something had come crashing down on her head after that and now... Now, she was here. And she had no idea where here was.

Trying not to panic, she mentally sent a beseeching prayer, hoping that Ulric was alright and keeping her fingers crossed that he would find her.

Footsteps came heavily nearby, grinding on what sounded like pebbles. Audelia shot to her feet despite the soreness piercing through her leg. In a moment or two, she was face to face with her apparent abductor. A very familiar face that did not come surprising at all.

"Miss Rolfen," the woman said. "How are you feeling?"

Skin now prickling with raw disdain, Audelia inched backwards. "Madame de Lucci. What do you want?"

Chuckling, she stepped forward, thick layers of silk sweeping against the floor. "I should think that was quite obvious. You see, Miss Rolfen--Audelia, I admired you so much. I craved your spirit...your great ambitions but a woman must also earn her bread."

"You told me that the Dextrems adored me."

"Oh, but they do. Lady Dextrem was quite fascinated with you. You were like...a daughter she could never have. But you must realize that even the wealthy have their share of problems and would do anything to fix them."

Hot burning tears pricked at Audelia's eyes. "He...raped me."

"Oh, hush, girl!" the Madame hissed. "Lord Dextrem merely sampled from what was already his."

"I am not his property!" Audelia spat, almost gagging with disgust.

"But you are." Madame smiled a sneering smile and inclined her head. "You are. You see, Audelia, you are bought and paid for and Lord Dextrem is well entitled to use...his merchandise."

"Bryce will find me. You won't get away with--"

"Ah, 'Bryce' is it now?" Madame de Lucci laughed and clasped her hands. "Well done, Miss Rolfen. Well done. I see you've become Lord Chastelle's whore."

"I'm not his whore." Her heart thundered as she spoke, a twinge of doubt that she did not want to welcome, now reaching inside her mind. "He...he cares about me."

"Does he now? The reclusive lord has confessed an affection for you, has he? I hardly think so. You see, I know Ulric St. Rosso quite well enough to gladly reject that notion."

Audelia swallowed, her glare piercing through the woman who had once encouraged her dreams. The woman whom she had grown to respect, the very woman who had earned her trust. Madame de Lucci was a conniving immoral fiend and Audelia wished for nothing but mercy on her black soul.

"What are you waiting for then?" Audelia snarled. "Lord Dextrem must be waiting to collect his merchandise."

Madame de Lucci chuckled and shook her head. "Things have changed, I realize," she said, crossing her arms. "Lord Dextrem can be quite a drain and when one finds himself exhausted by another, he severs the ties. It is the only...rational thing to do. But the vexing Lord Dextrem is no longer important. Ulric St. Ross now... I'm sure we can strike up an arrangement."

"What sort of...arrangement?" Audelia sniffed, resting her fatigued body against the wall.

"Perhaps, he might be willing to make a settlement. For your freedom, that is. It is no secret that the great Lord of Chastelle has very vast means."

"Bryce would never--"

"If he cares for you as much as you say he does," Madame de Lucci chuckled. "Then I am sure he will find you and be more than willing to spend a pretty coin."

* *

Ulric wasted no time with easing out of the saddle. Dismounting from Gray, he ran up the steps to his house and shove through the door.

"Audelia! Gilgallon!"

"Let's go about this cautiously," Edwin said between ragged breaths. "Just in case."

Ulric strode across the foyer and down the hall. "Where the hell is she?"

"Milord!" Both men spun to a high-pitched yelp and Ulric immediately identified the wench as the kitchen girl, Anyla. "It's Gilgallon. He's injured."

"Blast it!" Ulric followed the girl down the hall and towards the kitchen where he saw his guard sprawled on top of Cook's table, a gushing wound to his side.

Gilgallon looked up immediately from where Cook was attempting to clean the wound. "Milord." He made to stand but Cook shove him back down firmly. "I'm sorry. I was...caught off guard."

Edwin groaned. "What happened?"

"We were in the east stable, Sir, when--"

Ulric kicked over a chiar. "You made her leave the bloody house?"

"Ulric." His friend rest a calming hand on his shoulder. "Then what?"

Gilgallon winced in pain. "We heard a noise so I told Miss Rolfen to stay put with Brutus while I go...while I go see what it was. I was attacked by a man. I...I didn't see him clearly because he came from behind. Stabbed me with...with a knife, you see." The guard gasped and swallowed. "He took her. In the direction of the ruins, I believe."

"Shit! We need to move now." Ulric turned on his heel.

"Did you see anyone else?" he heard Edwin ask.

Gilgallon grunted. "No, Sir."

By the time they reached outside again, Ulric moved with lightning speed to his stallion, swinging up into the saddle, kicking his heels in Gray's flanks. Edwin's gelding was right behind him. But all Ulric could see or hear was the hoof beats of their horses, surrounded by the image of Audelia, hurt and in pain. Whoever was responsible for this would meet his wrath, one way or another.

Ulric sent Gray straight across the lawn and up to the low hills which led towards the meadows. His headache was worsening, his mind mixed with all sorts of emotions...his heart aching with dread but he must find her. He must. For his very own sanity and happiness depended on it.

The ruins came into view some time later and his gaze scanned the area quickly. His friend pulled up in line and Ulric huffed, "I'll take the front. You take the back. We'll work our way inside."

Nodding briskly, Edwin brought his own gelding to a slow as they finally reached the battered, crumbled structure. Dismounting quickly, they both made a dash towards it, an impending sense of doom threading through the air.

* *

"I'm not afraid of you." Audelia eased away from the wall, readying to act on Madame de Lucci's approach. She'd not allow this to happen. Not unless she could not help it. Audelia was tired of running, tired of being scared. It was high time that it all ended.

"Oh, you ought to be." The Madame revealed a knife from the belt at her waist and pointed it at her.

"You'll not a make another dime at my expense, you witch!"

"Relax yourself, you fool. I shall take no remorse in damaging your pretty little face if you get in my way. I'm sure even then Lord Chastelle will welcome you into his bed."

"All those months, I've been fighting." Rage ignited within Audelia's veins. "Struggling...to survive. I will not go back to that life. I refuse to be...anyone's property. Not anymore."

"We can arrive at some settlement then." The Madame chuckled. "Now stand still. When your precious Bryce arrives, I intend on being in a superior position."

Audelia maintained her stance, watching the woman fixedly. "Over my dead body."

"Oh, I hardly think you'd truly embrace death so eagerly."

"Try me."

A tumble came from just outside their dusty room and Madame de Lucci's glance flickered to the flimsy door. Adrenaline pumping, Audelia took the moment's opportunity to grab the woman's weapon-wielding hand.

Audelia grunted as the Madame managed to land a firm slap across her face but she held on still, bending her wrist painfully until the blade clattered to the floor.

"You think you can get away from me?" The Madame shrieked, shoving her to the wall. "Think again!"

Audelia landed hard against the wall, groaned and ducked another blow that would have surely connected her in the left eye. "I'll see you in hell first."

Launching her body full force in a run, Audelia rammed herself hard against the Madame, sending them both flying in a tumbling heap to the floor. Balling her fist, she then delivered a sharp blow to the woman's jaw and tightened her hands around her neck.

"Let...let.." The Madame rasped, clutching at Audelia's hands. "Bitch..."

Letting out a loud shriek, tears running down her face, Audelia blinked through her blinding tears and stumbled to her feet. She could not do it. She just could not...

"Audelia!"

The sweet sound of escape came in the form of Ulric's baritone shout, sending a wave of relief and joy throughout her being.

"In here!" Audelia made to rush off only to be caught by the ankles by Madame de Lucci's sudden grip. She fell flat onto her stomach, almost knocking the living breath out of her lungs.

"You little wretch!"

Audelia grunted, kicking her legs fiercely but the woman's grasp would not budge. It was a moment later that Ulric came rushing through the doorway, his face bloodied and Edwin behind him.

Edwin bellowed. "Sweet heavens, it is Lady Shentil!"

Strong arms grabbed Audelia upwards while Edwin rescued her ankles from the Madame's deathly grips.

"You're okay. You're alright," Ulric uttered, crushing her body against his, his gaze fixed on the widow across the room. "You're safe now."

"I wouldn't have believed this had I not witnessed it myself," Edwin went on, trapping the woman's arms behind her as she fought against it. "Lady Shentil of all people."

"Hello, Ulric," she spat, shuffling in Edwin's strong hold. "I see you've come to rescue your whore."

Ulric did not say a word but continued to press gentle comforting kisses across Audelia's tear dampened face. Dear God, he'd felt as if someone had plunged a dagger to his gut when he'd heard her distressed scream. And now...

"I'll gladly restrain this one," Edwin volunteered with a grim set to his face. "How does the great Widow of Shentil like the gaol?" He muttered next to ear and ushered the woman across the room, towards the door. "This is the last of blessed daylight you and Dextrem will ever see."

Ulric blew out a heavy breath, startled to feel tears tickling down his own face. But he did not care much for that. The woman he loved was safe now. She was free. And she was in his arms. "I'm sorry," he breathed next to her ear. "I'm so sorry. I-I should have been here with you. To protect you."

Sniffling, Audelia raised her head to look into Ulric's pained eyes. "You're here now. I knew you'd...come back. In time"

His throat clogged with deep, raw emotion. "I-I thought I might have lost you. I don't know... I don't know what I would have done. You mean the world to me."

Audelia reached up to wipe a tear from his cheek. "I love you, Bryce. I love you."

Ulric stilled, heart thumping wildly against his chest. To hear those words... To feel the warmth that they brought... He pressed his lips against hers fervently, pouring out his heart and soul into that one kiss which would join them forever.

"I love you, Audelia. Body and soul. Trust me with your heart and I shall cherish it. Always."
Epilogue

Two weeks and three days later...

Her gleeful yelp echoed throughout the bedchamber as she was dumped rather unceremoniously down on the cool large bed. Impatient hands tickled past her ankles and up her pale lavender silk dress. She batted said hands away and giggled.

"At least give me a moment to open the presents, Bryce."

Ulric slumped, defeated next to her and groaned deep into the sheets. "I'm the most worthwhile gift you could unwrap tonight, Audelia," he whined, still reaching up her bare thighs. "A husband ought to be allowed to ravish his wife on their wedding night."

Chuckling, she patted him on the shoulder and retrieved the carefully wrapped boon, eager to see what was inside. "This one is from Edwin."

"Marvelous," he responded dryly. "I shall tell him tomorrow of how he's ruined my night."

"Did you see Jocelyn's face, Bryce," she giggled, ignoring his comment and tearing at the secured parchment. "She looked so happy."

"She is happy for you. You two are best friends, are you not?"

She stopped to look at him and smiled. "Thank you. For everything."

Returning the beam, Ulric sat up and pulled her closer. "I love you. Your happiness is my happiness." He then pressed his lips against hers and reached for the gift in her hands. "Now, let's see what Edwin has gotten you."

Finally managing to remove the wrapping, Ulric ripped another thin layer of paper and frowned down at the object now in his hands.

"What is it?" Audelia grabbed it, her gaze scrutinizing. "It looks like...a coin." In her hand was a large round wooden token almost bigger than the size of her fist, resembling a gold coin and with her full name engraved one both sides.

"Let me see." Ulric narrowed his eyes, skimming over the tiny inscription beneath her name. Then he chuckled. "The bastard."

"What does it say?" she asked but when her dear husband only threw back his head and laughed like a blasted drunkard, she huffed and grabbed it. " 'May this token keep you safe. It is known you had been quite an avid collector of coins'." Eyes narrowing to slits, Audelia smacked Ulric on the arm. "This is not funny at all, Bryce."

Ulric grinned, ducking off the bed to avoid his wife's flying hand. "Come on. Admit it. It is a little amusing."

"No, it is not!" She threw a pillow at his head. "It is not kind to jest at a person's past...circumstances."

Ulric held his hands up and forced himself to keep a straight face. Over the last couple weeks of officially wooing Audelia into marrying him, he had learned quite a lot about her temperament and in his opinion, about women in general. It was always best to agree with whatever they said and apologize quickly.

"Okay. I'm sorry," he uttered, bending to retrieve the pillow. "You're right. It's not funny. I should not have laughed. And I will speak with Edwin about it."

Still scowling, she glancing down the token and back at her husband. "It does look...finely carved. I wonder where he got it made."

"I'll ask him that too," Ulric readily offered. "Right in the morning. Don't you--" Pausing, he raised a skeptical brow, observing his wife. Was she...laughing? "What is it?"

She shook her head and fell back onto the remaining pillows, kicking up her feet. A giggle spurted from her and then she was shaking with bloody laughter. "I suppose I may have overreacted a bit I..." She gasped to take in a breath. "I am yet to get used to Edwin's very active sense of humor, aren't I?"

Ulric took a tentative step forward. "Uh, yes. I suppose so. You're no longer...upset then?"

Audelia sighed, smiling. "I guess not. Come here, husband. Give me a kiss."

Eagerly obliging, Ulric swept in and slid his body over her slender soft curves. His wife was a damn temptress whether she failed to realize it or not. Her fingers slid through his hair, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. They shared a lot of those in the past weeks. The type of kisses that left them both trembling with need and gulping for air.

When they finally broke from the kiss, Ulric smiled and pecked her on the cheek. "I...happen to have a gift for you as well."

Audelia beamed. "You already gave me Olearia. And jewelry. Sending for Jocelyn early so she could be here with me through the wedding preparations... Bryce, I'm beyond grateful."

Ulric snorted. "You're my wife. I'm entitled to spoil you. Besides, Olearia has been yours from the very first day you rode her," he said, reaching inside a drawer of the small desk near the head of their bed. "Now just be a darling and close your eyes."

Shaking her head, Audelia giggled and covered her eyes with her hands. "No more coins."

"No more coins." Ulric retrieved the narrow wooden box and brought it to his wife's lap. "You can open them now."

Audelia dropped her hands and looked down to see a black box. "Okay. Let's see what else my generous husband has gotten me." She slid the tiny latch on the tiny chest and lifted the lid, her eyes widening as she glanced inside. "Oh Bryce..."

"Do you like it?" Ulric watched her as she brought the gift closer to her face.

"Like it? I love it." Audelia spun the glistening new dagger in her hand, admiring the shiny steel blade and expertly carved handle. The initials, A.R.SR, (Audelia Rolfen St. Rosso) was engraved on the thicker end of the blade closer to the handle. It was a beauty, really and she looked at her husband, tears clouding her eyes. "It's...beautiful."

Ulric smiled, relieved that she liked it. He'd had it specially built for her. A token of their trust. His trust. But perhaps, he'd delay his other gift at least until the next morning. That one was sure to send her into a state of gleeful shock."I'm glad you like it."

Audelia slid the dagger back inside the box and flung herself into her husband's arms. "I love you, Bryce. For all that you are."

Ulric's heart warmed as he held her close, inhaling her sweet feminine scents. "As I love you, Lady Chastelle."

Giggling, Audelia drew back and pressed her lips to Ulric's, her heart swelling with happiness and love. "Thank you."

"You're beyond welcome." He then nipped her on the neck and groaned. "Now may I make love to you?"

Audelia giggled and pulled him down atop her. "Yes. Yes, you may."

# Ulric (Or Bryce; whichever of his names you prefer) and Audelia loves feedback.

# Leave a honest review or send kind a comment.

About the Author

Patrice Hannah is an island girl, born and residing in the beautiful sunshine of Jamaica. At heart, she is an introvert--well, only when she's working on her next story--and loves calm silent days and cool rainy nights.

Though she's only twenty years old, she likes to think that she's much more mature than her age and finds herself passing many nights watching and re-watching, or reading the works of anything historical and romantic.

While she loves to laugh, she's not very good at jokes and tend to outdo herself in that arena.

She is currently pursuing a tertiary education while daydreaming hours and hours away, thinking up her next story.

Hannah-Lee loves to chat, and welcomes all suggestions and comments. You can reach her at:

Email: patricehannah26@gmail.com

Facebook Page: www.facebook.com/HannahLeesRomanceReads

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