The thought occurred to her that her captor didn’t know that a man wasn’t here. Or that she really was alone. Perhaps she could bluff her way into scaring him away. It was all she had that or be left to fate until Mrs. Gildon returned the following day. It made her shudder to imagine what could happen between now and then.
Chapter Two
“I’m going to move my hand. Make even an attempt to get to the door, and you’ll regret it,” he growled into her ear as they stood in the small entryway with the front door closed behind them.
Bright sunlight was wafting through the small window in her kitchen, gilding the pair with rays of warmth. She felt the man’s rough hand slide away from her mouth and his warm body step away from her. Arabella whirled around in place to face him and was met with a face she didn’t expect.
The mad had a strong jawline; along it was thick unshaved scruff. His dark brown hair touched the topped of his ears. Green glittering eyes watched her. The clothes he wore, although dirty, were finer clothes than she had ever seen. Torn on one side to reveal a bleeding crusted wound on the man’s side.
Her plans to lie were gone as she look at the man’s hardened lips as he waited for her to say something.
“Would you like for me to tend to your wound?”
The man blinked in surprise, whatever it was that he was expecting Arabella to say, it wasn’t that. The look instantly melted away though and he continued his suspicious expression.
“There’s no time for that. Where are we? Do you have any provisions in the house?”
Arabella glanced around. Her food stores were running low, she hadn’t eaten munch since the messenger baring the news of Henrick’s death had come knocking, but she was sure anything that had was in her cupboards had certainly gone bad by now.
“We’re southeast of Cestrin. Follow this road to the main one and then head north. You’ll come to the marketplace. You’re welcome to anything you can find,” Arabella glanced again at the wound along the man’s side, “You’re certain I can’t clean that for you? If you leave it unattended for long, it will fester. I’m Arabella by the way.”
The man went into her small kitchen once she was done speaking and began rifling through what she had, tossing down spoiled items and sniffing at others. She patiently watched, staring at the back of his head.
“What’s your name sir?”
“Eh?” He turned to her for a moment before continuing his search.
“What do they call you?”
“I am Rayzier of Istian.”
Istian. She’d never heard of such a place. He didn’t have an accent, it couldn’t be far. But Arabella had never been much for travelling anyway.
“Can I ask at least how you came to be here Rayzier? Are you in some sort of trouble?”
She stayed put, afraid to approach him in case he lashed out.
“None of your concern. I’ll be gone shortly.”
Rayzier had made a small pile of food on her table. He turned to her, barely seeing Arabella’s face as he looked around.
“Do you have a bag of some sort?”
Before Arabella could point Rayzier to the next room where she kept sacks for potatoes and other tubers, a loud knock came at the door. The pair froze for an instant, listening. A horse whinnied outside.
Rayzier leapt towards Arabella, grabbing her and pulling her towards the back of the house, into her bedroom with the still warm bed she had left.
“Who is it? Who has come to see you? Tell me know or suffer?” he hissed into her ear.
Arabella fidgeted in his arms. “No one that I know of. Stop with the threats. I don’t plan on giving you away.”
His grip only tightened on her. She looked down and was horrorstruck at the sight. Rayzier’s skin seemed to be hardening, his softly tanned skin was etched with what looked like scales and his rounded fingernails were sharpening before her arms.
She let out a surprised gasp.
Another knock sounded at the door. Arabella couldn’t turn to face Rayzier, he held her too tightly.
“Go, answer it. One word from your mouth that reveals me and I will have to kill not only you but your visitors as well. Make it quick.”
He pushed her away from him and towards her front door. She glanced back after saving herself from stumbling. Rayzier looked just as he had in the kitchen, suspicious, mysterious, but entirely human. She chastised herself, realizing it must have been a trick of the light. She watched him place a finger again to his lips, shushing her, and then hid behind the door of her bedroom.
Rat faced Lord Nelson darkened her doorway. Behind him a trio of mounted guards looked bored as they surveyed the scene.
“Madam. I’ve come to call on you for a short a moment. Was wondering if you’d like to make us some tea?”