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face.
    "And so you have returned," he observed. "Gault and I had a wager. I won. Wil you have some wine?"
    Tessa stood with her shoulders straight and her hands folded properly before her, determined to make a good show of it no matter what her fate. She deliberately did not look at Gault.
    Alexander had spoken to her in French, so she replied in kind. "Thank you, no," she said. "I'm glad you won your wager, though."
    He glanced up at her with dry skepticism, sipping his wine. "I'm given to understand you ordered Gault out last night. That I would have liked to see."
    "You bolted the door against him," she explained. "I thought you didn't want him here."
    Alexander scowled and shot a glance at his manservant, whose expression did not change, and whose gaze, it seemed, remained fixed upon Tessa with a particularly malicious intensity. "And have it known that I was taken in my sleep by a human—
    and a mere pup of a girl at that? I should mink not."
    Then he shrugged, his brows knitting in annoyance.
    "Not that I deserve any better. It was my own fault."
    Tessa had had no idea what to expect when she entered his room, but his rather banal conversation was not among the possibilities. She was so disoriented that for a moment she could do nothing but stare.
    He didn't look like a monster. But then, he never had.
     
    He gestured to her abruptly, the irritation in his expression deepening as he commanded, "Sit down. You're making my neck hurt."
    Now he spoke in English, and it was the second time he had switched languages since he'd begun speaking. Apparently he chose his language as casual y as another man might choose a handkerchief, according to his whim.
    Tessa glanced around and, seeing that every surface in the near vicinity was covered with empty plates, bowls and cups, crossed the room to fetch a little straight-backed chair with a blue velvet seat.
    She arranged it a few feet in front of him and sat down, once again folding her hands in her lap.
    He watched with interest but when she was seated spoke not to her but to his valet. "Wel , now, Gault, what do you think? We have before us a murderous little female and a damn poor one at that, who not only refuses to express any remorse for her act but actual y dares to show her face in my chamber again after such an unspeakable crime. What shal we do with her?"
    "Skin her," responded Gault immediately. "Hang her by her heels and cure her over a hickory fire."
    Tessa paled and could not stop her gaze from darting to Gault in a terrified manner, which she immediately regretted. The malicious satisfaction on his face was enough to make her quickly shift her gaze back to Alexander, who had fol owed the brief exchange with lazy amusement.
    "I don't know, Gault," he said. "That seems a bit severe. Perhaps we'll simply chain her in the cel ar and let the rats do their work."
    "A waste," replied Gault.
    Alexander addressed her unexpectedly. "You are not in the least afraid of me, are you?"
    Her stomach was quaking and her hands were sweating. She lied. "No." And then, when she saw the sharpening of his gaze, she added quickly, honestly, "At least—I don't think you wil skin me or chain me in the cel ar."
    "Why not?"
    Tessa drew a steadying breath and tried as unobtrusively as possible to blot her wet palms on her pinafore. Her heartbeat was loud in her own ears, but gradual y calmed its terrified rhythm. "My life was yours last night," she said, meeting his eyes, "and you chose not to take it."
    His expression remained unmoved. "Perhaps by the light of day I've reconsidered."
    "Skin her," advised Gault.
    Alexander held out his glass for a refil , keeping his thoughtful, assessive gaze fixed upon Tessa. "I don't know," he said to Gault as the latter splashed red wine into his glass. "Perhaps I wil keep her around."
    "For what possible reason?" Gault gave a plausible demonstration of outrage, withdrawing the bottle.
    "My own amusement," snapped Alexander. "Do I need another