The old man’s face flushed a telling shade of red. “Ah, yes. Well, you see—”
“My lord,” a servant whispered from the hall. He darted a glance at Lord Roberts’s grandson and scampered back, cowering behind the doors.
“Yes? What is it?” Lord Roberts strolled toward the hall. Ella resisted the urge to cling to the man, to beg him not to leave her alone, to beg him to send a rider for Lady Buckley.
As if sensing her vulnerability, Leo spun away from the window and faced her. Ella’s heart jumped into her throat. The set of his square jaw made him appear fierce, yet she could not ignore the handsome features that pulled together in a face that would inspire Michelangelo. His attention swept over her form, leaving behind a trail of heat that pulsed unwanted through her body.
Dear Lord, he wore only trousers and a white shirt, spattered in paint and completely unbuttoned. She couldn’t stop her gaze from traveling the trail of hair that swept down his muscled chest. Her body tingled and her gaze jumped back to his face. His wavy locks hung wildly about his shoulders. His body was tight, tense—like a beast prepared for an attack. Surely he wouldn’t harm her.
With long, purposeful strides, he shortened the distance between them. And she couldn’t move, couldn’t move a bloody step, fear and something else holding her captive. Nearer…nearer. Would he stop or knock her over?
Then their gazes met, and any thought of escape fled. Suddenly nothing existed. Ella fell into a warm pool of gold. An eerie gold that glowed from his eyes, pulling her under, drowning in emotion and leaving her gasping for breath. It was coming from him…the emotion…the need…the pain.
Birds, rabbits, even a fox, but never had she been able to read a person’s emotions. Mesmerized, she didn’t move a muscle when he stopped only a foot away, looming over her like some archangel come to take her soul. Was the floor still beneath her feet or was she falling? The room seemed to spin as his scent swirled around her: sea salt, pine, and male; him.
“It is nice to meet you,” she somehow managed to get past her lips.
His eyes narrowed into slits and his nostrils flared, his breath a soft whisper as he inhaled deeply. Slowly, he moved around her as if she were prey and he the hunter. He stepped close, too close. With his chest hot to her back, his essence seeped into her skin. His fingers brushed her nape, wrapped around a loose lock, and the fine hairs on her neck stood on end. She heard the distinct intake of breath, as if he smelled the strands. Paralyzed from fright and from another foreign emotion, Ella couldn’t move. Her heart hammered in her ears, drowning out every sound but her own harsh breathing.
He leaned forward, and the side of his face, rough with a day’s growth of whiskers, brushed against the sensitive skin of her neck. She closed her eyes, feeling every muscled contour of his body, every heated limb, every soft breath he took. Strange physical sensations pulsed through her veins, a deep aching need for only God knew what. Want, desire, anger so intense, her knees quivered and she feared she would sink to the ground in a dead faint.
“Leo,” Lord Roberts called out. The tap of the old man’s cane sounded muddled through the fog of her exotic reality. Part of her was weak with relief when Lord Roberts appeared, yet a small part, deep down inside, was strangely eager to see what this Leo would do next.
“I see you have met your new governess,” Lord Roberts said.
Governess? As if Leo were a boy when in fact he was a man, a very grown man.
His hold on her hair tightened, and she resisted the urge to squeak.
The old man’s eyes flickered uneasily from her face to his grandson. “I believe Miss Finch would like to rest.”
Out of the corner of her eye, Ella studied her ward. His jaw clenched, but he released his hold on her hair. With a curl of his lips and a stiff jerk of his arm, he pointed toward the hall.
“Right, of course, you would like some time alone. Well then, shall we?” Lord Roberts tugged her toward the open doors.
Her shoulder brushed against Leo’s hard chest, and shivers raced all the way to her toes. Confused by her strange reaction, she stole a glance back as Lord Roberts led her from the room. Leo stood there, his hands on his slim hips as if sizing her up for the kill. As Lady Buckley had promised, she was indeed being punished by God.
Lord Roberts closed the doors and shut the man from view. The surge of emotion and heat receded, leaving her trembling and cold.
Chapter 2
The sobs echoed in Ella’s mind over and over until she wanted to tear the hair from her scalp merely to feel something other than the sorrow that had embedded into her soul. She squeezed her eyes shut and bent the bolster around her head to cover her ears. But the action provided no relief from the emotional onslaught. If anything, closing her eyes heightened the cries of horror and flashes of blood swirling through her mind in a fog of painful memories.
His memories.
Not the past life of a deer, a rabbit, a bird. But memories of a boy who’d seen much more than any soul should witness.
You must be brave, Leo. The woman whispered over and over through her mind. You must be brave. His mum, she was sure, for she could see the woman with her golden hair and blue gaze as clearly as if she were standing in front of her. And just as quickly as she’d appeared, another memory flashed to mind…the same woman, on the ground with a pool of scarlet blood beneath her.
Ella choked on a sob and dared to open her eyes. Gray dawn’s boney fingers crept through the cracks in the drapes, warning of daylight’s imminent arrival. Nothing else remained…no bodies lying in pools of blood, no men fighting, merely a richly furnished room.
Her head ached with exhaustion. No wild animal had provided her with such painful memories. Only a human could store such grief, such horror…horror that frightened her as much as it tore at her gut.
She couldn’t stay here with these people. She couldn’t stay here with that man. She couldn’t stay here with such confusing emotions stabbing through her mind with every beat of her heart. Emotions she’d never felt before and knew were wrong.
She slipped from her bed, grasping the post when her weak knees refused to lock. Anger and sorrow hovered inside the castle like an oppressive fog. Whatever had happened in the past, she wanted no part.
She wrapped her fingers around the handle of her carpetbag, the strong sturdiness of the wooden grip bringing strength to her backbone. Without dwelling on her fear, she slipped into the hall. What would she do if she ran into Leo in these dark passages? Fear tickled the back of her neck like a whisper of warning. Silently, she slipped from shadow to shadow, making her way along the corridor. Reaching the steps, she peered down the sweeping staircase to the door.
“He’s disappeared again, my lord,” a male voice floated up to the second floor.
Ella knelt behind the banister and peeked between the railings. An early ray of sunlight pierced the small stained-glass window at the front of the entryway, splashing the hardwood floor with brilliant colors—a rainbow out of place in the dark and dreary home.
“His bed hasn’t been slept in?” Lord Roberts asked, stepping into view.
“No, my lord,” the butler replied.
The old man sighed. “He’ll turn up, Samson. He always does.”
The servant bowed and left. Lord Roberts stared at the door as if willing his grandson to appear. Finally, he shuffled down the hall. Pity sliced through Ella, and she took her lower lip between her teeth. Blast it, she wouldn’t feel sorry for a man who lied. Leo was no child, but a man. How could Lord Roberts possibly think she’d take the position? Her reputation would be shattered. Even if no one else seemed to care, she did.
Without