An Impetuous Abduction. Patricia Rowell Frances

propped his feet up on the chest. “Inexperienced, yes. Innocent, yes. Pure. But a ninny? No. You are bearing up amazingly well under the circumstances. One would expect you to be in strong hysterics.”

      “I never have hysterics. It is just that no one has ever seen me… That is…”

      “No man has ever seen your body, you mean. This must be very difficult for you.”

      “Yes.” Phona sighed. “Of course. I don’t mean to seem unappreciative for the care you have given me. But if you had not…”

      “If I had not brought you here in the first place, it would not be necessary. I have already explained that, but I understand your anger. Do not repine. I will take you home as soon may be.”

      She closed her eyes and nodded. “But how will I go on once I am there? I feel that I will see eveything differently after this experience. Matters that once seemed important…”

      He looked at her thoughtfully. “Yes, I would imagine that you will have a very different point of view. But how did you go on before? I know you rode nearly every day. Did you go to parties often?”

      Phona wrinkled her nose. “Not if I could avoid it. As I said before, I loathe parties. It is all I can do even to be polite. I always feel so…inadequate.”

      “You? Inadequate? I can hardly credit that.” He raised a skeptical eyebrow.

      “Well, only at parties. I do other things very well.”

      “What other things do you do?”

      “Mama does not like seeing to the household and the estate, so I do much of that. I enjoy it, especially visiting the tenants. Mama…” She had to think a moment about it. “Mama does not know how to talk to them as I do, whereas at a ball she knows just how to captivate everyone. A nod here, a touch there, a word to the favored few.”

      He chuckled. “Yes, an apt description. I have seen your mother in action.”

      “Have you?” Phona tried to sit up. “Where?”

      “At a ball.”

      She fell back. “You won’t tell me, of course.” It was a statement, not a question. She let it pass and continued, “I have never been able to do that. I sit by the wall, tongue-tied, wearing unbecoming colors and feeling ugly and awkward while my hostess brings young men to introduce to me and my hair works its way out of the pins. I dare not dance. It would all fall to my shoulders. I can’t even move my head. And I blush. So they think me very stiff and a great bore. And then, of course, there are the freckles.”

      He smiled. “Blushing, your hair fallen to your shoulders. Now that would be a truly captivating sight. All the young men would trample one another to make your acquaintance.”

      “You are teasing me.”

      “No, indeed. I am completely serious. But why do you wear colors which do not flatter you?”

      Phona sighed. “Because Mama wants to drape me in maidenly white at all times—at every ball, afternoon parties, certainly all al fresco occasions. I hate it, and it doesn’t suit me.”

      He gazed at her, a twinkle in his eye. “You are not qualified for maidenly white?”

      Her cheeks flamed. “My lord! How dare you?”

      “Forgive me, Miss Hathersage.” He laughed aloud. “You are delightful to tease.” Leo sobered. “But you seriously underrate yourself. You will make a fine wife.” He looked thoughtfully into the fire for a moment. “Yes, a very fine wife. Beautiful, in spite of your distorted vision of yourself, accomplished in the needs of an estate. And both courageous and ingenuous.” He seemed almost to be talking to himself.

      Before she could answer, he stood. “And right now, very weary. You should nap. I will return at supper time to keep you company. You will be happy to know there will be no gruel tonight. Aelfred has promised to make you a panada. Rest well.”

      As he went out the door, Phona, already half-asleep, had a dreamy vision of herself dancing at a ball, around and around and around, her skirts swirling, her curls flying loose.

      Dancing…with whom? She could see… Yes.

      A man with a beard. A black vest.

      And a hook.

      This was a dangerous state of affairs!

      She was beginning to be attracted to this man: a nameless rogue, a brigand—a maimed thief? Unbelievable.

      Yet she looked forward to his visits every afternoon. Felt relieved when he appeared after supper to keep watch over her through the night. A wave of warmth spread through her whenever he touched her forehead to gauge her fever and a subtle, smoky scent rose around him.

      This would not do at all. Phona had gone from the spit right into the heart of the flames. She resolved to guard her emotions more carefully. Each resolution lasted until the next time he sauntered into the room and her heart raced in her breast.

      What a goose! Mama would shriek the house down if she knew.

      Phona’s strength had gradually increased as her fever receded. Aelfred now brought her baked eggs at midday and boiled chicken and onions and a bit of cheese for dinner in place of the insipid, if highly nourishing and digestible, gruel.

      Every afternoon Lord Hades lifted her into a chair, wrapped in a man’s huge silk dressing gown, while he sat nearby, keeping a sharp eye on her. While it provided a pleasant change to sit, Phona always returned to her bed with a sigh of relief. Would she never feel vigorous again?

      Hades did so many things for her now. This afternoon he had again played the lady’s maid, helping her wash the still-lingering grit out of her hair.

      Phona badly wanted a real bath in a real tub, but her host had shaken his head with a wry grin. “But nay! I should peek around the screen to find you sunk to the bottom, and then I should have to fish you out. With my eyes closed.”

      Phona wrinkled her nose, then broke into a giggle. “I must agree the last attempt ended in complete disaster.”

      “You have no idea how great…” He had broken off, leaving Phona wondering what he intended to say.

      This evening as she sat up against the pillows, clean and combed, awaiting dinner, Aelfred came into the room and set the small table and two chairs tête-à-tête near the bed. “Good evening, miss. His… My master thought ye might be able to eat at table tonight.”

      “Why, yes, thank you. I would enjoy being out of the bed.”

      As she spoke, Hades arrived, looking his most civilized. He carried something green in his hand.

      “What do you have there?”

      He smiled. “A wreath for my lady’s freshly washed hair.” He held it up for her inspection. It was twisted of small, pliable branches of spring leaves and tiny white flowers. “When I noticed the leaves in your hair the first time I brushed it, I thought it somehow suited you—the daughter of a fertility goddess.”

      Phona laughed. “Mama is hardly a fertility goddess.”

      “No, hardly. But her namesake, Demeter, was.” He laid the circlet over her curls and stepped back for a better view. “Charming.”

      “I doubt that, but thank you. You are very thoughtful.” Strange how even a little bit of frippery made her feel more attractive, more feminine.

      He held up the silk robe. “Are you up to a proper dinner?”

      “I should love one.”

      He picked her up and transferred her to one of the chairs. “Tonight you shall have venison and a small glass of red wine.”

      “Wine? I am quite astonished.”

      “We need to build your blood. I do not like this lingering weakness. Ah!