Rhianna scrambled into bed, her heart pounding wildly as he drew the covers up to her chin. She stared up at him, frightened and confused, yet fascinated by him at the same time. What a strange man he was.
She had the oddest feeling that he had bought her simply to save her the embarrassment of disrobing before a roomful of half-drunken men. He was soft spoken and well mannered, yet she sensed a hint of carefully controlled violence lurking beneath the smooth facade, and beneath that smoldered an emotion more dangerous, more deadly, something she could not define. It was that which frightened her the most.
"Rest well, sweet Rhianna," Rayven murmured.
He blew out the candle, and then he was gone.
Chapter Two
The moon is my sun,
the night is my day,
Blood is my life,
and you are my prey.
Rhianna woke slowly, and even as she opened her eyes, she thought she must still be dreaming.
She sat up, plumping the pillows behind her. Last night, she had not given any heed to her surroundings.
Now, she gazed around in breathless wonder. Blue-and-white striped wallpaper adorned the walls.
Heavy blue damask drapes covered the windows; a matching counterpane was folded on the foot of the bed. There was a thick rug on the floor, woven in shades of blue.
She was about to get out of bed when she heard a knock at the door.
"Miss Rhianna?"
"Yes, come in."
She drew the covers over her breasts as the door opened and Bevins stepped into the room.
"Lord Rayven instructed me to take you shopping this morning after breakfast."
Rhianna nodded. "Yes, he told me."
"I've brought you something to wear," he said, placing a large parcel on top of the table beside the bed.
"When you are dressed, please come down to breakfast."
"I will, thank you."
"Is there anything you prefer?"
Rhianna shook her head.
"Very well, miss. I shall expect you in, say, half an hour?"
"That will be fine."
"Unless you wish to have breakfast in bed."
"In bed? I'm not sick."
A slight smile flickered over his lips. "Half an hour then, miss," he said, and left the room, quietly closing the door behind him.
"Breakfast in bed," Rhianna mused, smiling. "Imagine that."
Rising, she opened the box, marveling at the bounty within. The dress was of orange and brown taffeta, with a square neck and long fitted sleeves. A bouquet of yellow silk flowers adorned the bustle. She ran her hands over the undergarments, unable to believe the finery of it all. Everything was edged with delicate lace and tiny pink bows, so pretty she wished she could wear it on the outside. Never had she owned anything so fine in all her life.
She dressed slowly, inspecting each item. She glanced around the room again, wishing for a mirror. At home, a looking glass was considered a luxury beyond their reach, but surely Lord Rayven could afford a hundred mirrors.
Odd, she thought as she made her way down the narrow staircase. But then, rumors of strange doings at Rayven Castle were rampant in town. Some said the place was haunted; others said that they knew of women who had gone there and had never been seen or heard from again. But they were only rumors, and she had never given much credence to idle gossip. After all, people said her father drank too much and that he beat his wife and children, and Rhianna knew that wasn't true. Vincent McLeod might not be the kindest, most affectionate father in the town, but he wasn't a monster, either.
When she reached the main floor, she wandered from room to room. Vaulted ceilings. Dark wood.
Heavy draperies at the windows. Costly paintings and tapestries on the walls. Numerous statues and figurines and carvings made of silver and pewter and wood. Crossed swords above a massive stone fireplace. Expensive rugs imported from exotic places. But not a single mirror. She frowned. There were no clocks in the house, either.
The dining room, like the other rooms in the house, was large and dark and expensively furnished.
A lace cloth covered the long trestle table. A pair of silver candelabra stood in the center of the table.
Long white tapers filled the room with a soft glow. Dark green velvet draperies covered the windows.
There was a painting of a hunting scene on one wall, a painting of a sunset done in bold shades of pink and crimson on another.
There was only one place setting on the table. The plate was china rimmed with gold, the water glass was of fine crystal,