04

Her fingers tightened around her wooden staff, « Have you something in mind, sir ? » she demanded somewhat taken aback by her own boldness. What on earth had compelled her to say such a thing ? For if this man had any intent of harming her, there was no one there to gainsay him.

The delightful woman before him rendered Don wordless. Most women would have fled screaming at the mere sight of him, but all women he had encountered had not been blind. He had noticed that when first he laid eyes on her. She did not peer at him but rather past his shoulder whilst clutching a gnarled length of wood.

If only she knew as to whom she addressed, mayhap then she would flee to the village. But nay, she stood her ground, unafraid with but a rough cloak about her slender shoulders that gave way to the drab skirts of her dress. Tendrils of raven-black hair trailed the curve of her jaw, escaping from the restraint of its plait.

The moon favored her, as if she were derived from it. Her ivory skin prompted an unusual, inexplicable urge in him to run his fingers the length of her cheek. And though she was blind, aside from her straying gaze, her doe-eyes gave no indication of it. Fringed in thick, downy lashes, they were the color of a deep, sable brown. And her mouth, a soft pink, appeared full and pliant – ripe for kissing.

Don stiffened, taken aback by that passing thought. Why should this black-haired maiden rouse such a staggering whim ? Mayhap it was contributed a lot to the fact that she was disarmingly beautiful, so much so, that it revived an emotion in him that he thought hadn’t existed. And he had an inkling that she knew very little of just how beautiful she was. How long had he endured the dark, loathing it, embracing it, devoid of light and all things lovely ? And here stood beauty fashioned in a cloak of darkness, her dark eyes unseeing of the monster before her.

A wry thought suddenly occurred to him, « What if I wanted to kiss you, little nymph ? What say you to that ? » His eyes inadvertently settled on her mouth. What at first had been an attempt at grave humor, suddenly flared into a perilous kindling of something akin to desire. The shock of that carnal awakening rendered him stunned and for a fleeting moment he dared to wonder what it would be like to a sample a taste of a moon-derived maiden.

A cynical grin tugged at his mouth as his eyes did a cursory sweep of her. He wouldn’t have asked another woman, nay, but she intrigued him. She smelled alluringly of fresh rain and jasmine as though she had rested amid a patch of grass strewn with it. He reached out a hand as if to touch her but quickly withdrew it.

« I would advise against it, sir. » She answered, taking an involuntary step back.

His muscles tensed at her retreat, dousing his humor, reminding him all too well of his darkness.

Don scowled. What was she doing out here alone anyway ? Did she not know the dangers that could befall such a woman ? Did she not realize the present danger ?

His expression blackened and his mouth formed a hard, grim line as he replied, « ‘Tis wise of you, maiden. » Then recalling his purpose, added, « Mayhap it best you return home – lest I abandon all courtesy. »

He stalked away from her and mounted his horse, sparing her one last glance before nudging his steed onward.

Darkness had brought the Rossetti Beast. Gareth’s heart plummeted to his feet as an icy, unforgiving dread clutched at his chest while the villagers all but announced his arrival.

His wife stiffened beside him, clutching at the skirts of her dress as the last remnants of color drained from her face to an ashen white. « Gareth ? »

« Everything will be fine, my dear, » he consoled gently, but failed to quell the trepidation in his own voice.

« Papa, surely there is something else we could do ? » Elsa implored, her voice strained with the effort of holding back her tears.

« I’ll not let him take me ! » Esme spat, anger setting flame to her blue eyes.

Despite his fears, Gareth straightened with a wince, gathering what little pride he maintained to peer sternly at his daughters. « Mind your tongues, daughters. Our lordship has provided us generously, and you will remember your manners – « 

« Your manners are wasted. »

Gareth froze, fear shackling him in place as his gaze swiveled to the menacing frame of the Rossetti Beast looming formidably at his threshold. A man of large and broad proportions, Rossetti’s shoulders spanned the width of the door-frame, blocking all view of the villagers piling outside. He heard his daughters’ hitched breaths as they gazed upon the wicked and perilous Don Rossetti. Garbed entirely in black, naught could be made of the face obscured in the shadow of his hood, but Gareth knew the harsh masculinity that lay within. All that could be perceived was the unsettling, glint of his unworldly steel-gray eyes.

He ducked beneath the door-frame and stepped further into their hut, his massive size all but overpowering the limited space of the wattle-enclosed room. Gareth cringed, a lump lodging in his throat as his daughters drew closer to his side.

He could feel Rossetti’s intense perusal as he studied the four of them beneath the brim of his hood, and then he asked the question Gareth feared most.

« Where is the third ? » he grumbled darkly.

Gareth blanched, « Third, my lord ? »

« Do not play me for a fool, Duncan. » Rossetti snarled warningly. « You have three daughters. »

His stomach churned as dread prickled beneath his skin. He hadn’t wanted a life of servitude for Elle. Not his gentle, fragile Elle. She could not withstand Rossetti’s cruelty. He shook his head and motioned with a trembling hand to his fair-haired daughters, « My lord – « 

« Do you challenge the terms of our bargain then ? » Rossetti’s voice became harsher, colder.

Gareth gave a morose shake of his head, « Of course not, your lordship. »

« Then you will not delay any longer in producing the third to me. »

His shoulders bowing, Gareth shifted to Cora who appeared all the more stricken as he instructed gingerly, « Find Elle, my dear. »

Rossetti studied the two women presented to him from beneath the brim of his hood and felt naught but displeasure and ire. It wasn’t as though they were uncomely – on the contrary, they were both strikingly beautiful with flaxen hair and fair eyes, but ‘twas the fear and revulsion that gleamed from their blue eyes that enraged him.

He could easily dismiss this senselessness and be done with it, but that would encourage the villagers to undermine his authority, and if he could not have their respect, well, he would take their contempt. But he needn’t a sniveling woman to coddle and pamper, and if the third were anything like her sisters he would simply settle for the old man.

And yet, he could not fathom as to why he had entertained the peasant to begin with. It would appear that neither of his daughters was eager to be carried off like a sack of grain, not that he expected a warm greeting. Mayhap he should oblige them and return to his desolate, chipped stone walls. But that thought only fueled his anger and he nearly chuckled aloud. That’s what they wanted, the Rossetti Beast to reside in his blackened hell to never intrude upon their tranquility. Well be that as it may, he was indeed a spear of cruelty, and would wield it accordingly.