“Is it hers?”
“This is Miss Reese Carmichael, sent from the city by Will Scarlet,” Rebecca said. “Reese, this is Alain, captain of the garrison.”
“I’ve always envied Will’s eye for beauty, Reese, but never so much as at this moment.” He made the single syllable of her name sound like a symphony as he held out his hand. “I am enchanted, my lady.”
Reese tried to make the handshake brisk, but as soon as their fingers touched his closed around hers, and he breathed in deeply.
“Alain.” Rebecca’s tone grew sharp. “Miss Carmichael has come here at Will’s invitation. She is his guest, and I have assured him that she will be treated with every courtesy while she is here.”
“Naturally.” Slowly the cool hand withdrew from Reese’s, but the tiger eyes kept watching her. “Miss Carmichael, have we met before?”
The chatelaine sighed his name. “Alain, please.”
“It is only that she seems somehow familiar to me.” He smiled at Reese, transforming his lethal charm into amused resignation. “Forgive my poor manners. Welcome to Rosethorn, Miss Carmichael.”
If she could deceive him, she could do the same with the rest of them. “Thank you, my lord. I am very happy to be here.”
“Were you sent to entertain our Italian brothers,” Alain asked, “or do you prefer more civilized lovers?”
Reese gave Rebecca an uncertain glance. “I’m not here to entertain anyone.”
“Alain, we have no Italians here,” the chatelaine said.
“We will as soon as introductions have been made.” He nodded toward the front of the property. “Our lord has sent more than seventy of them from the city to stay with us, and they have just now arrived.”
When he arrived back at Rosethorn, Sylas had first seen to preparing quarters among the garrison’s barracks for the contessa’s cavalieri . He had meant to go from there to see his wife and warn her about their possible visitors, but a call from Will Scarlet confirmed that the Italians were already en route to the estate.
“I’ve only just arrived myself,” Sylas told the seneschal. “I will need more time.”
“You have none,” Will said bluntly. “I am sorry, Sylas, but our lord is not thinking clearly tonight, and I have my hands full with him. Do what you can.”
Sylas immediately called for his senior men, relayed the situation, and issued orders. “We are to regard these Italians as guests, but I want the patrols doubled and the interior guards to stand watch day and night.”
“You expect some trouble from them?” Bergen asked.
“No. Their mistress is an old friend of the master’s.” Sylas looked around him at the sober faces of his best warriors. “Regardless, I expect us to be ready for anything.”
Word came over the radio a few minutes later from the perimeter guards that several large, chartered passenger vehicles had stopped just beyond the first gate, and that Kyn males walking in presentation formation were approaching the estate. Sylas summoned an equal number from the garrison, ordered them to arm themselves, and sent them to stand ready in the lower courtyard.
The castellan remained behind long enough to call his wife over the radio. “Rebecca, where are you?”
“I am in Ireland, of course,” she called back. “I think I shall visit the high lord and ask him how I might rid myself of a husband too busy to properly greet me when he comes home.”
Sylas chuckled. “Forgive me, my lady; ’twas something of an emergency. Have you word of our visitors?”
“Yes, Alain brought word to me and my ladies. We should have the main hall ready in a few moments. Did you miss me?”
“Aye.” He smiled. “I will show you how much later.” He remembered what she had said earlier. “Is that mortal—Will’s friend—with you? She will have to go.”
“I left her with Alain,” Rebecca said. “She needed but a few minutes to take photographs of the workrooms, and then he will escort her from the
“This is Miss Reese Carmichael, sent from the city by Will Scarlet,” Rebecca said. “Reese, this is Alain, captain of the garrison.”
“I’ve always envied Will’s eye for beauty, Reese, but never so much as at this moment.” He made the single syllable of her name sound like a symphony as he held out his hand. “I am enchanted, my lady.”
Reese tried to make the handshake brisk, but as soon as their fingers touched his closed around hers, and he breathed in deeply.
“Alain.” Rebecca’s tone grew sharp. “Miss Carmichael has come here at Will’s invitation. She is his guest, and I have assured him that she will be treated with every courtesy while she is here.”
“Naturally.” Slowly the cool hand withdrew from Reese’s, but the tiger eyes kept watching her. “Miss Carmichael, have we met before?”
The chatelaine sighed his name. “Alain, please.”
“It is only that she seems somehow familiar to me.” He smiled at Reese, transforming his lethal charm into amused resignation. “Forgive my poor manners. Welcome to Rosethorn, Miss Carmichael.”
If she could deceive him, she could do the same with the rest of them. “Thank you, my lord. I am very happy to be here.”
“Were you sent to entertain our Italian brothers,” Alain asked, “or do you prefer more civilized lovers?”
Reese gave Rebecca an uncertain glance. “I’m not here to entertain anyone.”
“Alain, we have no Italians here,” the chatelaine said.
“We will as soon as introductions have been made.” He nodded toward the front of the property. “Our lord has sent more than seventy of them from the city to stay with us, and they have just now arrived.”
When he arrived back at Rosethorn, Sylas had first seen to preparing quarters among the garrison’s barracks for the contessa’s cavalieri . He had meant to go from there to see his wife and warn her about their possible visitors, but a call from Will Scarlet confirmed that the Italians were already en route to the estate.
“I’ve only just arrived myself,” Sylas told the seneschal. “I will need more time.”
“You have none,” Will said bluntly. “I am sorry, Sylas, but our lord is not thinking clearly tonight, and I have my hands full with him. Do what you can.”
Sylas immediately called for his senior men, relayed the situation, and issued orders. “We are to regard these Italians as guests, but I want the patrols doubled and the interior guards to stand watch day and night.”
“You expect some trouble from them?” Bergen asked.
“No. Their mistress is an old friend of the master’s.” Sylas looked around him at the sober faces of his best warriors. “Regardless, I expect us to be ready for anything.”
Word came over the radio a few minutes later from the perimeter guards that several large, chartered passenger vehicles had stopped just beyond the first gate, and that Kyn males walking in presentation formation were approaching the estate. Sylas summoned an equal number from the garrison, ordered them to arm themselves, and sent them to stand ready in the lower courtyard.
The castellan remained behind long enough to call his wife over the radio. “Rebecca, where are you?”
“I am in Ireland, of course,” she called back. “I think I shall visit the high lord and ask him how I might rid myself of a husband too busy to properly greet me when he comes home.”
Sylas chuckled. “Forgive me, my lady; ’twas something of an emergency. Have you word of our visitors?”
“Yes, Alain brought word to me and my ladies. We should have the main hall ready in a few moments. Did you miss me?”
“Aye.” He smiled. “I will show you how much later.” He remembered what she had said earlier. “Is that mortal—Will’s friend—with you? She will have to go.”
“I left her with Alain,” Rebecca said. “She needed but a few minutes to take photographs of the workrooms, and then he will escort her from the
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