NightPrey Page 2

  He took the steps two at a time. The need to get her dry and warm flowed great within his veins. Knowing his bed had been made ready for him earlier, he cut across the great hall, spouting orders to the staff. He bounded up the main stairs. At the top, Joseph stood waiting at his open bedroom door.

  As if she were a newborn, he laid her gently on the foot of his oversized bed and stepped back. Using only his fingertips, he brushed the muddy, matted strands of hair from her face. She looked so fragile and though dirt smudged her cheeks, he saw the paleness of her skin. The slow rise and fall of her chest gave the only sign she lived.

  “So what have we here?” The sound of a familiar feminine voice came from behind him. “Is she one of your many conquests, Sir?”

  “Cease your sharp tongue, Mikala,” Alessandro snapped. “As long as I am master of this castle, you will know your place. Or leave,” he added in a commanding tone, shooting a heated glare across his shoulder at her.

  Though many of the prior lord’s servants chose to stay under Alessandro’s leadership, Mikala was one he wished had left. Soon after taking his position, it became evident she thought herself entitled to the same privileges she had maintained with Lord Lindsey. A cold chill coated his skin at the thought of her transgressions toward him. Alessandro didn’t agree with her attempts to seduce him.

  His chest tightened when she stepped closer to him. Though to most, her full-breasted, well-rounded womanly figure, brown hair and eyes appealed to the senses, it didn’t pique his interest and he wished she’d soon realize this or he would be forced to exile her from the grounds.

  Unfortunately for him, Mikala refused to give up her pursuit of his affections, no matter how harsh his words. On an exasperated breath, Alessandro turned to face her.

  “If you would like to assist me…” Before he finished his sentence, Mikala crossed the room and grappled for his cock under his cape. Alessandro grabbed her wrist and glared down at her. “That is not what I meant!”

  Though the words seethed between his clenched teeth, she grinned at him. Growling under his breath, he turned his back to her, marched over to Joseph and stepped into the trousers handed to him, then slipped the cape from his shoulders. As he closed the trouser buttons, he explained the situation to Mikala.

  “The woman is in need of assistance. She traveled with a man and they were attacked. Since this occurred on my lands, we must grant them care.” After tugging on a fresh tunic, he faced Mikala. “Clean her, tend her wounds if there are any and see to her comfort. She is my guest and will stay in this room until further notice.”

  Without giving the wayward chambermaid a chance, he exited the room before he changed his mind, undressed the sleeping beauty in his bed and bathed her himself. Tempting visions of what he might find underneath her soiled clothing flashed within his brain as he descended the stairs to check on the other new guest of Pantera Manor.

  When she turned to leave, Joseph grabbed Mikala’s sleeve. “Sir Alessandro said for you to tend to our guest.”

  “You do it!” Mikala sneered, jerking her arm free of his grasp. “Such work is beneath me.”

  “You clean chamber pots,” Joseph stated to her back as she flounced toward the door. “You would think cleaning a person was a step up.”

  If looks killed, Joseph would have been dead the instant her gaze sliced his way. The fact she didn’t intimidate him only infuriated her more and he took pleasure in her disdain. When she huffed and stomped out of the room, he laughed. Thank god Sir Alessandro knows the nature of that one. Joseph turned and found their visitor awake and staring at him. His laughter stalled. Clearing his throat, he walked over to her.

  He bowed, stating, “Ma’am, hot water is on its way for your cleansing purposes. Are you hurt?”

  The woman sat upright and scanned the room, as if frantically looking for something or someone. When Joseph moved toward her, she scooted back on the bed away from him.

  “Ma’am, you are safe. The gentleman you were with is being attended to downstairs. He is safe as well.”

  A soft audible sigh escaped her lips. Her eyes closed and her features softened. Had she understood? He couldn’t be sure for she hadn’t spoken. When several of the kitchen staff appeared in the doorway carrying buckets of hot water, he walked across the room and pulled the privacy drape from around the tub.

  Joseph watched her expression. She sat with her mouth slightly opened, staring at the large tub as if it were a gift from heaven. Though Joseph himself didn’t care much for the ritual, Sir Alessandro did. It was common practice for him to relax in a hot bath. He claimed it helped him think. But Joseph thought it strange that a man of the master’s abilities would even care for water at all.

  After overseeing the tub being filled, he returned to the woman. He lay a drying sheet and a mound of scented soap on the foot of the bed.

  “Should you need assistance with your dress, ma’am.” He nodded toward a timid mouse of a young maid who stood quietly in the doorway with her arms filled with clothing. “Mary has been assigned to your care. She has fresh clothing for you. The clothing belongs to Sir Alessandro’s sister. She went to London to visit her aunt and these are items she left behind.”

  Before he stepped away, she clasped his hand in hers and smiled. It was at that moment the young valet realized the reason for her quietness.

  “You cannot speak, can you?”

  The woman simply shook her head.

  Rose slid from the bed and walked to the tub. Oval in shape, she couldn’t believe its size. She had never seen such. At the inn, she took the opportunity to wash in a hipbath. But here sat the largest washbasin she had ever seen. Her fingers trembled as she traced the ornate etchings in the solid tin tub. Two of her could fit without incidence, she surmised.

  “Sir Alessandro had it made by the finest tinsmith in London with specifics that it be large enough to hold him at rest,” Joseph stated. “He will be pleased to learn of your interest in his most prized possession. If you will excuse me, ma’am.”

  Joseph bowed then left the room as she continued her appraisal.

  The shape encrusted in its side piqued her interest most. A panther. Why had he chosen this particular animal? Did it hold some sort of significance in his life? Perhaps it was his favorite wild animal? Rose smiled inwardly at the thought that a big man such as her rescuer may have a weakness for cats.

  An unusual spike of heat warmed her core, making her shiver at the memory of his face. If he had not arrived when he did, would she have been forced to reveal her secret again in order to protect them from certain death? Rose clasped her arms around herself and gathered her calm. For now they were safe. She shook off the unwanted scenario which threatened to surface in her thoughts. They were safe, she reiterated to herself and hoped for at least one night’s peace before they continued their journey.

  “Miss, may I help you with your dress?”

  Mary’s soft-spoken words snapped Rose from her thoughts. Shaking her head, Rose shied away from Mary and quickly tugged the privacy curtain closed around the tub and herself. There were bruises upon her body she wanted no one to see. Just thinking about how those dark marks got there made her tremble and her knees weakened. Shame threatened to surface but she refused to let it invade her system. What happened was not her fault, Poppa claimed, and she clung desperately to those words.

  She had been placed on this path by fate. Poppa believed that and so should she. Rose took a cleansing breath and prayed for the strength to complete the task that fate had thrust upon her.

  Every ounce of her ached as she untied the knot at her shoulder and removed her tattered clothing. She rolled her eyes heavenward and prayed for her father’s health. He did not deserve the dangers that befell her. This unplanned trip was her fault. If she had not listened to a conversation that was not her business, Poppa would be home in his own bed unharmed.

  Her heart hurt and her stomach twisted as she tested the bath water before sinking into the comforting
warmth. All she could do was pray that once they delivered the information, their part in this was over and she and her father could return to their normal life. Normal. She huffed. Nothing had ever been normal for them.

  * * * * *

  Alessandro entered the room of the injured man. Ilene, the housekeeper, applied the finishing touches to the bandage around the man’s head.

  “You are lucky you still have your head,” she quipped as she stepped back from the bed and gathered her supplies.

  With the nearest known physician a two day’s ride away, Ilene acted in his place. In Alessandro’s opinion, he considered her skills better than any proclaimed physician. Her healing abilities were the main reasons he took her on every jaunt from the first time she had ever stitched him after battle. Not to mention he liked her motherly ways though he would never admit to it.

  “I thank you for your assistance, gracious lady.”

  “Lady!” Ilene sputtered and turned to leave. “Imagine that, he is injured in the head more than I thought if’n he calls me a lady.”

  Alessandro touched her arm and whispered near her ear, “To me, you are a lady.”

  Ilene playfully swatted his hand and left the room laughing. Her long gray braid swung as she walked and her broad hips swayed, carrying her short round frame out of sight.

  “I have no coin with which to pay you,” the injured man stated, attempting to rise from the bed. “But I work hard.”

  Alessandro grabbed the man’s arm before he stood to help steady him. “There is no need for that now. You need your rest.”

  “I need to find Rose.” The old man’s eyes pleaded from beneath the thick bandage wrapped around his head. He looked weak and pathetic, but he still tried to stand. Determination set his spine.

  “Would that be the young lady who traveled with you?”

  The man nodded. “Is she well?”

  “Yes, she has been given a room upstairs to rest.” Alessandro chose not to tell him that he was uncertain as to her condition, since when he last saw her, she lay unconscious. No need to concern the injured man any more than necessary. He needed his rest.

  Relief washed over the man’s tired features. Fatigue took over and he slouched, teetering on the edge of the bed. Alessandro carefully gathered the man’s legs with one arm while supporting his shoulders with the other, and shifted him into a more comfortable position on the bed.

  “Sir, where are we?” the man asked while Alessandro pulled a blanket up over him. “Please tell me we are near Dartmouth.”

  “You are in Dartmouth at Pantera Manor. And I am Alessandro Pantera.”

  “Sir Alessandro,” Kade interjected with a mock curtsey.

  Alessandro hated being addressed as such and Kade knew it. He shot him a warning gaze then continued. “And what shall we call you?”

  “Forgive me, Sir Alessandro,” the man stuttered, trying to sit upright, but Alessandro refused to let him.

  “You need to calm yourself.” He gently held the man by his sleeve, not wanting to do any further damage to his head wound in this unnecessary struggle.

  “Sir Alessandro, I am but a blacksmith. I deserve no such finery as this bed. Please point me in the direction of your stable. It will suit me just fine.” The man seemed flustered. He spoke quickly, but no longer fought against Alessandro’s grip on his arm.

  “It is I who chooses where my visitors sleep. And this room is where you will stay until you are healed enough to move on your own strength.” He released the man’s arm. His words seemed to soothe the man’s worries. “And I ask again, what shall we call you?”

  “My apologies, Sir Alessandro. I am Wilhelm Smythe of Falmouth. Rose is my daughter. We travel to Dartmouth to…” His voice faltered as if a thought just struck him. His face paled and he sat up, grabbing Alessandro’s sleeve. “My wagon, is it here?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Thank the heavens,” he replied on a heavy sigh and fell back into the pillows. As the man closed his eyes, Alessandro strained to hear his whispered words. “It is safe for now.”

  What was safe? Though he wanted to question Smythe further, the steady rise and fall of his chest implied he had fallen asleep. Alessandro left the room with much on his mind. Who was this pair and what business did they have in Dartmouth? And why were they attacked? Were they simple victims of a random robbery or something else? Suspicion took seed at the base of his brain and hinted the issue equaled a larger solution than a mere wrong place at the wrong time, and that bothered him. Entering the great hall, Kade greeted him.

  “Ah, come join me in a drink of mead, Alex. It will take the edge off and make it easier to sleep this night. Or,” Kade wagged his eyebrows and continued, “is sleep not what you want considering there waits a subtle young woman in your bed?”

  Kade was the only one who got away with needling him. And only close family called him Alex. Anyone else would have met the tip of his sword or the wrong end of his pistol for disrespect. Shaking his head, Alessandro took a seat across the table from Kade and caught the filled mug slid to him. After taking a deep gulp, Alessandro leaned back, propped his feet up on the table and closed his eyes, holding the mug firmly in his lap with one hand.

  “Well, if you plan to sleep here,” Kade quipped, slid his chair away from the table and stood, “then perhaps the lady shall share with me the reward for her rescue.”

  Without opening his eyes, Alessandro commanded on a deep growl, “Take so much as a step in her direction and a eunuch you shall be when I finish with you.”

  Kade’s laughter echoed as he returned to his chair. “So there is an interest. No wonder you would not release her into my arms outside. You don’t want me to touch her. You fear she will fall for me instead. After all, I am the more handsome and valiant of the two of us.”

  Alessandro opened his eyes, leveled his gaze on Kade and took another swig of his mead. He had to give him that. Kade proved himself in many battles, yet his face held no scars. Absently, Alessandro brushed his fingertip along the left side of his forehead near his hairline. There lay the reminder of a blow he’d never forget from a hand that still haunted him. Raw hatred stirred his gut at the memory. He refused to let the anger consume him, but certain thoughts slipped past his attempt to block them.

  It was no secret which of the two held more scars. Labeled the Black Knight of Death, Alessandro knew he earned that title, because he fought until no opponent remained. A smile threatened to upturn his lips but he tightened his mouth. Death was not a smiling matter, he reprimanded inwardly. With the first swipe of the sword or shot of steel from a weapon, he turned into the Black Knight of Death and Destruction. No matter how seriously wounded, he never lost a battle. Though he tried to stop it, his inner beast purred with pride at that accomplishment. Pride. He huffed in disgust, knowing he never lost. Not as long as he welded a weapon or changed into his second skin of the lethal black panther.

  Swallowing hard, Alessandro shook his thoughts from his demons as words spoken earlier tickled his brain. Something the old man said needed discussion more than the woman in his bed. For a split second, her beauty filled his mind’s eye and issued a temptation for which he knew he could not partake.

  “I have no need to discuss Rose with you.”

  “Ah, a beautiful name for a beautiful woman.” Kade sighed loudly, widened his eyes and made a face of true admiration in an obvious attempt to goad him more. “Pray tell, she is not his wife?”

  Alessandro refused to bite. Instead, he arched a warning eyebrow and held a level, stern gaze on his cousin as he spoke. “She is his daughter and I have no need to speak of such things with you now. How much did you hear, when you were near the attack?”

  Showing a sliver of intelligence, Kade didn’t pursue the issue of Rose. Alessandro relaxed into his chair and shoved this unwanted twinge of jealousy from his system. There was no need for jealousy. The woman belonged to neither of them, he decided.

  “I heard them demand to know its loc
ation,” he stated, leaning forward with his elbows on the table and his mug of mead in his hands. “But our guest didn’t seem to know what they wanted.”

  “I think he does,” Alessandro replied, sitting upright. “Did you search the wagon?”

  “Yes, but found nothing impressive.” Kade shrugged. “A chest full of blacksmith tools and a small bag of clothing. Not anything of value.”

  “That makes sense. Before he went to sleep, he gave me his name, Wilhelm Smythe of Falmouth and that his trade was blacksmith.”

  “Falmouth is about a two-day ride south of here on a good horse. Three or more by wagon. Did he say where they were headed and why they were not bedded down somewhere during this storm? Only a fool would be out in this.”

  “No, he fell asleep before I got much out of him, other than the fact they were traveling to Dartmouth.” He took another drink then continued. “He did seem pleased the wagon was here.”

  “It is possible the wagon and the things inside are all he possesses.”

  “Possible.” Alessandro swirled the mead in the mug as he stared out over its rim. Something wasn’t right. He knew it the moment he walked the castle walls earlier, and that feeling burned in his gut now.

  “What makes you think differently, my cousin? I know that look. It usually spells trouble for someone, and for once,” Kade smiled broadly, “it is not I.”

  “It was the way he spoke his last words before he fell asleep.”

  “Well, what he did say?”

  “It is safe for now.”

  “You think he is not just happy that he and his daughter are still alive and safe?” Kade’s gaze leveled on Alessandro’s.

  “I think he is happy they are safe. But there was something else he was glad to hear was safe as well. Something to do with that wagon.”

  Chapter Two