The household had fallen into a state of robotic depression. The servants carried on with their daily tasks seemingly aware of the desolated cloud that had fallen on the plantation. Several dispirited days had passed since their mistress was claimed from illness and a heaviness settled.

The servants grew fearful of their dark laird who barricaded himself behind closed doors and took to the bottle. He rarely ventured from the study, not even to the fields that he neglected so carelessly. Many knew to stay clear for his demeanor had blackened dangerously and they feared he would succumb to the dreaded fate that which his father before him suffered. The servants whispered that the bottle would be his undoing, if not the brandy than surely the frightening darkness that slowly encased his soul. They feared all was lost for their lord.

Sleep was peaceful. Sleep eluded the feelings that all but threatened to drain her of life. Her eyes fluttered open and instantly Ginelle felt the sudden blow of heartache. She rolled from the window where rivulets of sunlight filtered in through the drapes. She clenched her eyes against the tears that she refused to shed. How many times must she cry for another loved one lost to her?

Someone was stoking the fire within the hearth. She didn't bother to open her eyes, having adjusted to the servants but simply gripped the coverlet more firmly and pulled it to her chin.

An unseen force jerked the blanket away and her eyes opened on their own accord. She studied the older woman standing at the end of the bed, signs of depression clearly written on her pinched face. The woman had once been intimidating with her assertive, dark stare and the firm set of her mouth but over the years the two of them had established a genuine relationship and here lately, Lucile was her only means of comfort.

"I cannot allow you to waste away in this room." Lucile stated firmly, moving to stand at Ginelle's side. "Tis been nearly a fortnight and you continue to wallow in bed." Her stern expression revealing nothing of the grief that she endured on the inside but Ginelle could see an indication that she had not slept well or eaten much since Eloise's passing. Despite her solemn disposition Ginelle had always admired the older woman for she had an unrelenting maternal nature, just as her mistress.

She pulled herself upright and leaned against the headboard, instinctively raising her hand to block the sun from her weary eyes. She felt the immediate heaviness settle in her chest and the urge to lie back down. "Lucile-" she blinked away tears as she looked up at the older woman. "What should I do?" her voice shook as she released the tears and a sob lodged in her throat.

Lucile settled on the bed and gently grasped Ginelle's shoulders, "You will remain here, at Ashford."

Ginelle shook her head, her eyes doubtful. "You and I both know that I do not belong here."

Lucile reached out and gently grabbed her chin, "And you and I both know that here is where Eloise would want you to be."

Ginelle wanted to believe Lucile for her old fears had resurfaced with Eloise's death. Foolishly, she had allowed herself to become attached to these people, even this austere woman sitting before her who had been against her arrival from the beginning. She had grown to love them as they loved her. She had established many friends but she was not of noble birth and this home was not her own. She was an imposter; always have been. There was no denying her rank.

As if sensing her thoughts, Lucile said, "Why would you want to leave, after all that Eloise has done? It would all be for naught."

Ginelle lowered her head as she was seized with a pang of guilt. She wanted nothing more than to remain with the people she had begun to call her own but could she really open her heart again? She had lost her parents and now Eloise? Was she destined to lose every person she loved? Was she to live a life of loneliness? She couldn't bare the thought of more anguish. The dreaded thoughts made her heart constrict and than a fearful image came to mind. She would have no choice but to return to the streets. With Eloise's death, Pierino had returned.

"I want to stay." She said with great longing. She wanted desperately to remain at Ashford; with the memories of Eloise.

"We will have no more talk of you leaving." Lucile said sternly as she gathered to her feet. "I will have Ingrid bring up your breakfast and then mayhap you can go to the garden for some fresh air?"

Ginelle nodded but her heart sank deeper when the older woman left, leaving her alone to face the burden of her sorrows. She knew in her broken heart that remaining at Ashford was not an option. There were too many reminders of the happiness she and Eloise shared. Gripping the locket around her neck, she leaned back against the headboard and shut her eyes, her chest rising with a stifled sob.

The door suddenly opened and Ginelle stiffened abruptly as Ingrid entered, carrying a tray that contained her breakfast as she crossed the room to deposit it on the table. In three years time, Ingrid had grown a little taller and curvier and her animosity towards Ginelle had intensified.

Ingrid turned her venomous glare on Ginelle, her mouth thinning with a deep scowl of distaste as she curtsied in mockery. "Your breakfast, milady." Her sneer widened before she left the chamber, leaving Ginelle all the more convinced that here was not where she belonged.

His days were bleak and slurred. Through the many preparations and the ceremony, he had been in a darkened haze, oblivious to all but the closed casket containing Eloise's lifeless body. Could he really continue without the little warmth in his soul? Could he roam the halls knowing Eloise would not be in the next room, laughing and smiling? That the piano would never again play a soft, gentle tune at the tips of her fingers? He stared at the empty brandy bottle he had drained the previous night where sleep had banished him, forcing him to brace the brunt of his sister's devoid existence.

With a violent sweep of his hand, he knocked the empty bottle from his desk. It fell to the carpet with a silent thud. He stood from the chair where he had spent the dark hours of the night wallowing in despair, thinking on memories that now lay in his past. He swept an unsteady hand through his tousled hair as he moved to the window. Eloise had been his purpose in life. She had been his only light and now that light was forever diminished.

His eyes strained against the sharp, morning light as he studied the vast expanse of land that had once belong to his father and now belonged to him. Below the window was the flourishing garden that both Eloise and their mother had loved.

His thoughts came to a breaching halt as his eyes settled on a small woman sitting just below the window. Streams of sunlight cast her in brilliant hues of yellow, capturing the vibrant silver of hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. She had donned a gown of black, strictly for mourning, her skirts flowing over the bench that which she sat upon. Cradled in her lap was an open book. He studied her intensely as his face darkened with uncertainty to the woman's identity. He took keen notice to her quivering form as she struggled to keep her posture straight as she clutched a handkerchief in her hand.

There was a sudden quick knock at the door and he jerked to awareness as he turned to glare dangerously at the intruder. Bogart cautiously cracked the door and peered inside until he spotted his Lord's whereabouts. "Forgive my intrusion, milord-"

"Come here, Bogart." He was unaware of the old man's alert expression as he cautiously moved to stand at his laird's side. "Who is that woman?" he demanded, his eyes never straying from the mysterious girl.

Bogart frowned as he dared a glance at his laird's dark face. "Tis Miss Ginelle, milord." He replied tentatively.

Dorian stiffened. He had not given any thought to the child his sister had taken in three years ago. Bogart slipped quietly from the room as Dorian continued to stare at the woman as something his sister said came rushing back to memory.

Take care of Ginelle. For me, please Dorian.

As if suddenly aware that she was not alone, the woman looked up and Dorian was struck a blow that nearly rendered him of breath. She had been a pretty child when he remembered her last but the vision before him was naught as he had imagined. Her complexion was that of porcelain, with large, unguarded eyes that revealed a storm of pain. For some reason unknown to him, he felt a slight twinge of intrigue as he continued to watch her. This small woman had brought Eloise much happiness?

The spell was broken when she leapt to her feet and fled the garden. His features hardened as he stared at the empty bench where she had been moments ago. She had every reason to fear him and fear him she should. Clenching his jaw he stalked from the window and moved towards the door. He had enough of drinking away his sorrows. It was best he got away from these enclosed walls and seek the tedious labor of his well-neglected fields; anything to keep his thoughts from straying towards unwarranted distractions.

Once she was safely within her room, Ginelle released the breath she had been holding. She pressed a shaky hand to her chest as she struggled to bring her frantic heart to a steady pace. How could she have forgotten?

That cold, calculating stare had unsettled her feeble bravado, forcing her fears to the surface. Having been so absorbed in her mourning over Eloise, she had forgotten the dark laird who struck a terrifying fear within her. Though her heart yearned for nothing more than to stay here with her memory of Eloise, her fear of the menacing Lord overshadowed it.

She was adamant about her decision. She would leave and what were the chances that Pierino would still be searching for her? Mayhap is interest in her was no longer? Did he think her dead? She prayed for the latter in hopes that he would end his pursuit in finding her.

There was a shuffle outside her door and she stepped back, her heart thrusting against her chest at the thought of that imposing frame looming on the other side. Her eyes widened in alarm as the latch lifted and the door parted.

"Ginelle?" Lucile's voice brought on a flood of relief and her shoulders sagged. The woman came up short as she found Ginelle standing a foot away, clearly distressed. "What troubles you, child?"

Ginelle shook her head and offered a small smile for the older woman. "Nothing, Lucile. You startled me is all." She pressed a hand against the throbbing pulse at her breast.

Lucile frowned but didn't question the notion that something was wrong. "You haven't touched your breakfast." It wasn't a question but an indication of her disapproval.

"I wasn't hungry." Ginelle replied softly, turning from the older woman to stand at the window. She studied the region surrounding the manor and pondered over which direction would be best to take. The city was furthest from her mind.

"You are far too thin to discard food." Lucile scolded, moving to gather the untouched tray. "I will have Cook brew you some tea and mayhap a bowl of porridge?"

Ginelle continued to stare out the window. She nodded but said nothing. Her fingers gripped the window sill as a deep sadness lodged in her chest. Once she heard the click of the latch, she dropped her head and wept.

**********

The remainder of the day, Dorian sought the fields to keep all disturbing thoughts at bay. His men were startled to find their lord sober but were not oblivious to the silent storm that simmered within. He bellowed commands to the unfortunate laborers who were subjected to his temper as he suspected their work, taking immediate notice that several lacked in their efforts. His men stood aside, casting wary glances amongst each other, but none dared approach their dangerously tempered Lord as he demanded penance for their negligence. Several laborers were ordered to be lashed.

Dorian was unaware that he was causing a stir of questions of uncertainty to his sanity. His crops lacked in abundance due to his carelessness but the criminals that worked his fields were held responsible for their own workmanship. It would take a great deal of time to get his fields back to a satisfying result and he welcomed the challenge, anything to keep him occupied.

He would also need to send word to Cummings on the whereabouts of his missing crew. Cummings had obligingly taken his place at sea when he had returned to Ashford and he had yet to hear any information concerning his vessel and the bastard, Reyes. How he would like to drive a rapier through the Spaniard's heart. He had stolen the lives of many men; men who had trusted their Captain.

As the day continued brining the slow approach of dusk, he worked tediously until his body was weary with exhaustion and could no longer stand. He ordered the laborers back to their quarters and his men to their hall as he retired for the night. He brushed the sweat from his brow and mounted his horse. As he made his way back towards the manor he paused as his eyes averted to one of the windows that proclaimed a dim glow.

His thoughts instantly turned towards the girl from the garden. It unnerved him that he did not find her presence at Ashford unwelcoming; was it simply because he was honor bound? Twas apparent that Eloise had taken the child in to appease her grief but in her letters to him, she had described with much enthusiasm of the child that brought her much happiness. His sister had been proud and her affection for the impoverished child evident. Could he really banish the girl without the feeling of betrayal at his sister's request?

A feeling of anger washed over him at the thought of this sudden burden thrust upon him. Why should he care for an impoverished girl who meant nothing to him when he had more and important matters to attend?

What of your responsibilities here, Dorian? Those daunting words that his sister had last said to him the night he left came back to haunt him, plaguing him with guilt. Eloise had been his responsibility, and now she was dead.

His fingers curled around the leather reins as he jerked his horse around and dug his heels into the mare's side as he fled in the opposite direction of the house. Whether he approved of it or not, he knowingly made a vow to Eloise. There was never a moment that he could deny her anything and even after death, he could not deny her this last request.

Ginelle had risen early to greet the break of dawn. She had tossed and turned through out the night, her thoughts tormented with the ultimate decision that she had no other option but to leave Ashford. The memories here were far too painful. The happiness she had once shared now seemed all but a dream.

She was angry. How could Eloise abandon her, just as her father had done? She had said from the very beginning that she didn't want any of it, and now here she was, destined to be, alone and forced to endure the infinite pain of loss.

She reached up and gripped her mother's locket, clinging to the silver chain that was a comfort. She had considered selling the gowns that Eloise had, had made for her and than quickly dismissed the terrible thought. She couldn't bare the thought. They had been made specifically for her, out of the kindness of Eloise's heart but they didn't really belong to her. None of this did. The only rightful item that did was the precious trinket around her neck. She couldn't contemplate parting with it, but her options were limited. She would have no other choice but to barter the necklace in means of travel. She would get as far away as she could, possibly even travel to America and find work.

Ginelle stiffened as the door to her room opened. She remained as she was, standing before the window as Lucile stepped quietly into the room. The older maid straightened, her expression altering to one of surprise to find Ginelle awake and fully dressed.

"You are awake?"

Ginelle nodded as she turned away from the window, still gripping the locket between her fingers as she moved to stand beside Lucile. "Lucile-"

"Master Dorian has asked to speak with you."

She stiffened with alarm as everything she had been prepared to tell Lucile fled as apprehension caused her stomach to churn. "W-what does he want?"

"I know not but simply that he sent me to find you and bring you to his study."

"You will have to tell him that I cannot."

"I am sorry my dear but I cannot do that. Master Dorian expects you in his study as we speak. If I return without you, he will not be pleased."

The last thing Ginelle wanted to do was face that menacing man with his glacial stare. His obvious distaste of her not only angered but frightened her. She was well aware of the gossip whispered among the servants. They feared their own Lord and the dreadful tales that were muttered of the man were frightening. Would he now demand that she leave Ashford immediately? What other reason did he have to summon her?

Reluctantly, she followed Lucile from the room and down the hall, all the while her heart beating an irregular pulse that had her nerves scattered.

He had not slept at all that night, his mind continuously contemplating the unwelcoming burden that he unknowingly agreed to care for. He had not given the girl much thought since she had come to live with Eloise but now the girl was his responsibility, whether he liked it or not. The thought suddenly made him furious. Why would his sister do such a careless thing as to bring a complete stranger to his home?

His anger vanished as abruptly as it had come for he couldn't be angry with his sister who had put others before herself, who cared nothing for the standards of society but for the welfare of those less fortunate. As much as he disapproved of it, he had made a vow to his sister and he was one never to break his word. Besides, how difficult could a docile chit be? Was she not at an agreeable age for marriage? She could remain here at Ashford until a suitable suitor came along to take this excess baggage off his hands.

At that thought, a knock sounded at his study door and he stood as Lucile entered followed by the object of his thoughts. The older woman stepped aside to allow the girl to enter and immediately he was struck by how lovely the morning light placed across her delicate face.

Annoyed, he dismissed Lucile with a wave of his hand and the woman hesitated before closing the door behind her, leaving the two of them.

Dorian frowned as he caught a tiny flicker of fear in those soft, brown eyes but as quickly as it came, a sudden resolve settled to conceal any emotion that lay within. He felt a slight twinge of admiration as he studied her rigid frame. She was small and childlike, her ethereal beauty stirring him in a way that was unsettling and most disturbing.

His face darkened and his mood blackened as he quickly sought the words he had prepared to say. "Do you have any immediate kin?" he was keen to notice the sudden stiffening of her frame yet her eyes remained unyielding and her small hands entwined in front of her.

"I do not, milord." He jerked at her reply. Her voice was soft and sweet and his irritation increased for that gentle tone did something strange to him.

"There is no one?" Ginelle tensed at the harshness of his words. It took every ounce of control to keep her knees from buckling and her legs from giving beneath her. She kept her hands entwined to keep her fingers from trembling as those piercing blue eyes studied her in bold observation.

He was much larger than she remembered. In fact, he was by the far the largest man she had ever encountered. The sheer size of his frame brought on the sudden impulse to take a step back even though the desk stood between them. His skin was a golden bronze, having darkened from spending several years at sea. His chiseled features sharp and define, revealing a rugged exterior. His jet-black hair had been tamed at the nape of his neck by a leather thong where several stubborn strands escape to caress the firm-set of his jaw.

His presence indicated authority and a threatening manner that she dare not test. His ice-blue eyes watched her in cold assessment. She couldn't allow his domineering presence to unravel her bravado. After today, she would never lay eyes on this man again.

"I am indebted to you and your family." She said; her voice shaking as those blue eyes darkened. "I thank you for allowing me to stay here, at your home. I shall leave as soon as possible. I simply ask to loan a carriage for my departure. I'll gladly repay when I am able."

She forced herself to meet that intense stare and almost lost control of her swaggering display of confidence. Silence settled between them and she feared he would decline her request. Was he truly so merciless that he would deny her a means of transportation?

"It is simply out of the question." He said his voice hard and absolute.

She felt a sudden sinking feeling in her chest. Had she truly expected that he would show her any generosity? "You will remain here, at Ashford."

She blanched as she met those glacial depths watching her intensely. Had she heard him clearly? "I-I beg your pardon, milord?"

His gaze did not waver as he said, "Here is where you will stay."

Ginelle frowned, clearly perplexed as to why this man would want her to remain in his home. As much as she wanted to remain at Ashford, it was clearly not acceptable especially having to endure his presence along with the immense sorrow of Eloise's memory. She knew absolutely nothing about this man but the rumors whispered among the servants only heightened her fears. It had been quite evident from their first encounter that he did not particularly like her, so why than would he insist she remain at Ashford? At least with Pierino, she knew what to expect.

She shook her head, "I cannot."

A dark brow lifted and his blue eyes narrowed as he said, "You cannot?"

"I am very grateful but I-"

"It is not up for discussion." He growled darkly, clearly annoyed.

She stiffened at his abruptness and felt a sudden anger seize her. What right did he have to make demands of her? "You are saying that I do not have a choice?" she felt her heart quicken within her chest.

"That is what I am saying." She dropped her hands and they curled into fists at his maddeningly, relaxed manner.

"I do not understand."

He leaned forward to flatten his hands on his desk as he said, "What is there not to understand? You are to remain here at the manor."

"By what right-"she felt the heat rush to her face, her fear all but forgotten as she took an angry step closer to the desk, "-do you have to make such demands?"

His features darkened as he said, "By rights of guardianship."

Her sharp intake of breath went unnoticed as she stared nonplussed into that face of implacable resolve. "You are not my guardian." She stated as though to assure herself.

His jaw tightened as he said, "Unfortunately miss, I am."

He straightened to his full height and she was keenly aware of how close they were and it set her heart at a frantic pace as she found herself unable to avoid those cold eyes. It wasn't so. This man did not have rights over her. She had made a vow that no man would control her.

She frowned at something he had said, "Unfortunately?" she narrowed her eyes at him, "If you do not wish to willingly be my guardian, than why do so?"

She refused to back down at the evident display of anger etched into his hard face. She was not the skittish, fearful child cowering in the corner that she had once been. Eloise had taught her much over the past three years, bestowing a courage she thought she had not possessed; though she found her newfound confidence wavering beneath those icy depths staring boldly back at her.

A thought suddenly struck her, "Was it Eloise that asked of this unfortunate burden?"

His expression revealed nothing but the muscle at his jaw tightened, "I made a vow that I intend to keep. You will remain at Ashford until I can further consider your future."

**********

Ginelle almost laughed at the irony of the situation. Here she had expected that the dark Lord would gladly see her on her way when in fact he had commanded she stay. Her anger returned as she closed the study door, resisting the urge to slam it.

He was mistaken if he thought to make demands of her. He most certainly was not her guardian and never would she allow another man especially one so dictating as this one to have any means of control in her decision making or her future.

Her thoughts instinctively turned to Eloise. Had she truly given this menacing man incapable of warmth and compassion control over her wellbeing? The thought made her tremble on the inside. Why would Eloise do this to her? She had known of her fears, why would she place her life in the hands of another man? Something about Dorian Ashford unraveled her senses in a frightening way. She was suddenly struck anew with an astonishing realization. It was apparent that a man like Dorian Ashford was to be feared from the sheer size of him and authoritative demeanor but she had stood her ground if only for a brief moment. The thought was a remedy for if she could stand against a man like Dorian Ashford than surely her fear of Pierino was in the past?

As she returned to her room and closed the door firmly behind her she released the breath she had been holding. She felt her anger return full-circle as their conversation replayed over in her head. It mattered not for she would be gone before tomorrow.

She pushed herself away from the door and moved to gather her bundle of belongings she had stuffed under the bed earlier that morning. She had given much thought over the past couple of days and as much as her heart yearned to stay at Ashford simply to hold onto the memories of Eloise and their short life of happiness together, it was clearly out of the question. There was nothing here for her. If she could reach America than she would never again set eyes on Pierino and Dorian Ashford.

The day had steadily progressed and with it, Ginelle had learned that several of the laborers had been ordered to be whipped. Ginelle trembled at the thought. Dorian Ashford had exacted these brutal lashings. What man would harm the flesh of another unless they were cold and merciless? She knew too well the severity of many punishments and shuddered at the thought of the violent lashings they would receive. How could she possibly remain at Ashford knowing a man such as Dorian would harm the hands that tend his fields?

As dusk approached, she felt that confidence she had earlier commended herself slowly break off into little fragments of apprehension and uncertainty. Remembering her last happening when she had tried to leave, she found herself terrified beyond her imagining. Could she attempt the foliage without being swept away by her fears? Was she making a grave mistake? She and Eloise had ventured to the forest many times on occasion but they had not traveled far, only to a familiar spot by the river. She knew that fear of Pierino would always be in the back of her mind, though she convinced herself that she was not a child anymore that could allow a man to intimidate her, but could she really survive on her own? These walls had protected her for some time but she couldn't continue to hide any more. Eventually, she would have to face the impending dangers lurking on the outside.

She quickly dismissed any disturbing thoughts from her mind for she refused to allow her fears to deter her from her decision.

Ginelle waited until darkness had fallen and the house fell silent, indicating the servants had gone to bed. She gathered what little belongings she possessed and started for the door. She paused as her hand touched the latch to turn and survey the room that she had almost claimed for her own. She felt the sudden rush of tears and quickly turned away from the beautiful chamber. She would not think of Eloise for the pain encircling her heart was agonizing.

She made her way into the hall and was relieved to find it empty. She slipped cautiously through the shadows, continuously glancing over her shoulder in fear that Lucile would be lurking somewhere nearby. Nothing went unnoticed to the older woman.

It wasn't until she stepped out into the night that she allowed herself to take in a sharp breath of air. She pressed a shaky hand over the pulse that throbbed beneath her palm and quickly surveyed her surroundings. She was relieved that the tobacco fields were on the opposite side of the plantation and she wouldn't have to encounter any of the men that guarded the region but she couldn't allow herself to feel any triumph just yet because she had yet to get a horse.

A sudden chill caused her to stiffen and she realized she had forgotten her cloak. She bit down on her lower lip as she considered returning for it and than quickly decided against it. She had come too far to turn around and risk everything. Gathering her skirts in one hand and cradling her possessions in the other, she slipped effortlessly towards the stables. She felt an immediate wave of guilt for stealing a horse but she vowed silently that she would send money for the stolen mare.

The stable door creaked on the hinges as she slipped inside. The horses stirred in theirs stalls at her presence as she quickly assessed them. She paused as she spotted a massive black beast at the far end of the stable. She shivered as she studied the magnificent creature, recognizing it as the one that had nearly trampled her that night in the forest. She most certainly could not ride an animal as large and fearsome as that one.

Ginelle turned to find a much smaller and docile mare. The horse watched her warily through dark, beady eyes as she approached the stall. It took her an excessive amount of precious time to saddle the mare but she managed after a few struggled attempts. Her heart pounding and hope flaring within her chest that she nearly accomplished her escape, she led the horse from its stall and out the barn. Just outside the doors, she allowed herself enough time to mount the horse but her skirts prevented her from mounting properly. She paused as she reached down to gather skirts and it was then a looming shadow fell over her and a large arm clamped around her waist.

Ginelle didn't have time to comprehend the situation as panic gripped her in an icy shroud. She felt a scream in her throat as her arms instinctively came up to attack the face of her attacker. The arm around her waist tightened as her struggles forced both she and her assailant to lose their balance and stumble back into the stable. She felt her throat closing in as she struggled to bring air into her lungs. Her eyes burned with tears as that large arm around her waist refused to budge. She kicked her legs out but to no avail.

Suddenly, she heard a distinct rip and gasped when her attacker's foot caught her skirts and they both went tumbling.

She stiffened for the impact and the large body to crush her but in a sudden swiftness, her attacker shifted his body to take the brunt of the fall as she landed softly on top of him. She felt immediate fear as her hands encountered sheer muscle beneath a thin tunic. She lifted her head and her eyes clashed with a pair of icy blue depths. She inhaled sharply, her eyes widening in sudden alarm.

Dorian had known from their heated conversation and Lucile's warning earlier that day that the little chit would attempt to leave. He was no fool for she had foolishly tried once before and had failed. So he waited patiently all evening, and wasn't surprised to find her small shadow slipping through the halls, oblivious to his presence. She was impossible and his instincts demanded that he let her go but his vow to Eloise forced him to continue his pursuit.

He had thought to stop her before she got to the horses but he amused himself by allowing her to struggle with the task of saddling the horse and he couldn't seem to take his eyes off her.

It was then as she led the horse from the stable that he decided he had allowed this nonsense to continue long enough. She was unaware as he approached that the horse jerked in panic and fearful that the girl would get hurt, his arm wrapped around her small waist to pull her out of harms way.

He had not expected her sudden attack as she burst into a fit of struggles. Dorian dodged her flailing arms as he jerked her back from the frightened horse and lost his footing, stumbling backwards. He released an impatient growl as he fought to control her wrestling limbs. He stepped sideways only to catch the rim of her skirts and send them both falling to the ground.

As he turned in midair to take the brunt of the fall, his arms tightened around her frame and they collided roughly in the dirt. As she attempted to right herself, he became increasingly aware of her little body pressed intimately against his own. His temper soared as his body ignited with desire.

His eyes clashed with those soft depths and he froze at the evident display of fear etched into her lovely face. Her hair framed her face in a tangled array of spun silk and he resisted the sudden disturbing notion to brush the silken tresses aside. His eyes settled on her lips, full and luscious, parted in her labored breathing. He had the swift urge to taste those lips and the sweet nectar of her kiss.

She scrambled off of him in a sudden panic and in her haste lost her balance and fell on her backside. Dorian's gaze shifted to something that caught his attention and his groin hardened at the expanse of creamy skin exposed to his hungry gaze. In their struggle, the gown had torn in several places. His heated gaze caressed the creamy shoulder and than fell to the rip at her thigh, revealing smooth, tantalizing skin that brought a moan to his throat.

A wave of anger seized him for how could a mere-slip-of-a-girl such as this cause such uncontrollable desire to stir within him? It was unnerving and painfully arousing and yet the vision of her with those wide, doe-like eyes and her disheveled hair and the creamy flesh exposed to him did something entirely foreign to him.

His demeanor hardened as he gained his footing and moved towards her. She flinched as he approached and this only agitated him further. His fingers seized her roughly by the arm and he quickly sought to ease his grip at her painful gasp.

She stiffened beneath the pressure of his fingers and appeared as though she would flee if given the opportunity, so for this reason alone his fingers remained firmly around her arm as he glared down at her. "I think you've stirred enough trouble for the evening." He growled in frustration.

The fear lingered in her pretty eyes but a sudden glint of anger rushed to the surface as she attempted to wrestle her arm free of his grip. "Release me."

He resisted a grin at her sudden boldness. He was well aware of her fear of him and yet she continued to stand her ground, a trait he found seemingly admirable. The frightened child he remembered from three years ago lay somewhere dormant in this defiant, little woman standing in front of him, demanding he release her.

She was by far the smallest woman he had ever met. Her head just reached his chest and he was keenly aware of the small, fragile bone he gripped in his hand and yet, she challenged him with her eyes. If provoked, he could easily break her in two but the thought of harming this delicate yet defiant woman shook him uncontrollably. His eyes briefly assessed the gown that barely revealed any curves of interest and he found it odd that she had aroused him when he had a preference for curvier women.

"Where will you go in the dead of the night?" she flinched at the rough baritone of his voice, clearly unaware that his anger wasn't the only reason for his sudden harshness.

"Why is it any of your concern?" she questioned, tugging on her arm encased in his iron grip.

His temper flared and he stepped towards her and she would have retreated if not for his fingers wrapped tight around her wrist, reeling her closer until they were a breath apart. "It is my concern because you are my responsibility."

"Simply because you are honor bound?" she seethed, glaring up at him and refusing to back down even though fear clouded her senses. "You care not for what happens to me but simply that you are obligated to care for a burden that which you did not want."

The muscle in his jaw flexed but he refrained from saying anything further which only convinced Ginelle of her statement.

She was painfully aware of how close they were. She could smell the dark spices of his skin, could see that his eyes were rimmed in a metal gray and could just make out the lines of laughter around his eyes. For a moment, she wondered if a man such as this was even capable of laughter. "Let's make something clear." He started; his voice dangerously low caused a shiver to race up her spine. "Did you not willingly agree to remain at Ashford?" he didn't wait for a response, "Was it not my sister that had cared for you? Did that not make her your guardian?"

Eloise had been her guardian but also her mentor, her sister. How could she explain that to him? "As rights of guardianship, everything that belonged to her is now mine. You are my responsibility by the rights of the arrangement that you and my sister had agreed upon the moment you consented to remain at Ashford."

Ginelle gasped, "That is absurd!"

"Is it?" he growled, his grip tightening a fraction around her arm. "Did you not agree to it?"

She opened her mouth to respond but nothing came forth and so he proceeded. "I'm sorry to disappoint you Little Fair but as you can see, the plantation belongs to me and all that which inhabits here." He paused and than said, "Which means, I am accountable for you."

Ginelle gritted her teeth for there was nothing else she could say that would prove otherwise. She had agreed to stay at Ashford only because Eloise had wished it and she wanted to escape Pierino, but it didn't mean that she would submit so easily and Dorian Ashford was keen to see the obvious challenge in her brown eyes.

She lifted her chin to glare defiantly up at him, refusing to cower beneath the intensity of his hard stare. "So will you take the whip to me as well?"

Dorian stiffened.

"I intended to steal your horse." Her voice shook as she said this and he could see the fear in her eyes that lay within but she stood her ground.

He was stunned that a woman so small would expect punishment when most men would cower at the notion. She must have overheard the servants gossiping about his laborers. He cared not for what she thought of him. Let her continue to make the wrong assumptions of him.

Reluctantly, he released her and stepped aside. Her expression shifted to one of uncertainty. "Return to your room."

For a moment, he thought she would defy him but she reconsidered and quickly left the stable. A grin formed at the corners of his mouth for she feared him and yet she challenged him defiantly. Half of the men he knew did not have the courage of one mere female. Mayhap having her here at his plantation would not be as troublesome as he half expected. He would be lying if he said he didn't find her lovely and at the same time the effect she had on him was most afflicting. His grin all but vanished as his mood darkened. She was indeed lovely but nothing more. He was a fool to even consider the possibility that he found her desirable.

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