Eloise greeted the morning with a new outlook on life and a small ball of hope unfurling within her chest. At first glance she had thought Ginelle a mere child but at fourteen summers she was practically on the brink of womanhood; with no guidance, she thought solemnly.

She would never be the child's mother for in fact she was but a few years older than the girl herself, but she could be her mentor, teach her the things a mother should teach a daughter, she thought as she made her way down the hall towards the chamber where the girl slept. Immediately she stiffened at the abrupt chill of the room and she shivered as her eyes widened to find the bed unstirred.

Instinctively, her heart dropped. Had Ginelle run away? She stood frozen, gripping the latch as she searched the remnants of the room until she felt a wave of relief seize her as she spotted the curled, sleeping body on the floor near the hearth.

Her relief was quickly overcome with extreme displeasure at the evident chill in the room. Why had Ingrid not returned to rekindle the fire?

Eloise crossed the room and knelt next to Ginelle, gently rousing the child until those eyes of soft brown fluttered open and peered up at her, widening for a brief moment until recognition settled. She quickly sat up, turning her face away in slight embarrassment as she smoothed the wrinkles from the nightshirt she had been clutching through the night.

"Why did you not sleep in the bed?" Eloise questioned gently, "You could have caught a chill sleeping on the floor." Eloise helped Ginelle to her feet and immediately moved to the door where she and a maid exchanged hushed words unclear to Ginelle.

Eloise turned and smiled yet Ginelle sensed she was displeased, "I am sorry." She said, "I did not mean to upset ye, tis just that I-" she fell silent as the older maid Lucile came marching in the room, tugging a reluctant Ingrid in tow.

Ingrid barely cast a glance in her direction as she stood before Eloise, her hands tucked nervously in the apron of her gown. She kept her green eyes leveled to the floor as Eloise started, "Ingrid, you will have a breakfast tray prepared and brought to our guest and when you return I want a full explanation to why you lacked in your duties this morning and as for your idleness, you can see that the grand stairway is washed and scrubbed."

Ingrid curtly nodded, "Aye milady." She hesitated as if she wanted to say something in return but refrained and hastened from the room.

Ginelle stiffened; had she been the reason to why Ingrid had disregarded her duties? She felt the intense urge to speak in Ingrid's defense. "Milady, if I have troubled ye-"

Eloise composed her displeasure as both she and Lucile turned to peer at Ginelle. Eloise stopped her mid-sentence. "Do not fault yourself for Ingrid's mistake. She lacked in her duty this morning, therefore she is entirely at fault and it is not acceptable."

"Lady Eloise was lenient with Ingrid, far more than Master Dorian would have been." Lucile stated, the undertone of her voice relaying a clear message.

Ginelle averted her eyes to the older woman. She was a handsome woman, with austere features that indicated her proud disposition. Her gray hair was pulled tight into a chignon at the nape of her neck, not a single strand out of place. Her unwavering, dark stare made Ginelle uneasy as the older woman studied her return. Somehow, sensing from her rigid stance and bold stare, she felt as though this woman disapproved of her presence just as much as Ingrid but for an entirely different reason that was unknown to her.

Lady Eloise was lenient. Far more than Master Dorian would have been. Trepidation snaked down her spine at the older woman's words. She was certain that the older woman continued to warn her and every warning seem to focus around the Laird. She trembled on the inside at the thought of the man. Would he have beaten Ingrid for her disobedience?

A servant suddenly appeared in the doorway, "Forgive my intrusion, milady. A missive has just arrived for you."

Ginelle caught the flare of anticipation in those bright, blue eyes as Eloise motioned for Ginelle to take a seat. She settled into a chair as Eloise turned to say something to her dutiful Lucile. She stared at her retreating back before Lucile retrieved the nightshirt and placed it gently on the bed as Eloise left the room.

Instantly, Ginelle felt her departure and resisted the urge to follow Eloise. "Mistress has taken quite a liking to you." Lucile said standing across from Ginelle with her arms folded firmly in front of her.

Ginelle did not sense any animosity from the woman as she had from Ingrid but she sensed a protective layer that was unbreakable.

"Lucile." Eloise called from the door. "May I have a word with you?" Ginelle could sense the utter excitement in the lilt of her voice and wondered for a brief moment what sort of news she had received to bring on this sudden happiness.

Lucile stepped into the hall to observe her mistress' obvious cheerfulness and a dark brow rose as she asked, "I suspect the missive brought good news, than?"

"Yes, indeed." She cried with glee, "Dorian will be returning shortly. The missive was written nearly a sennight ago and his letter claims he would be arriving home in seven days, that day is tomorrow."

Lucile stiffened with anticipation as well as apprehension for their small guest. "Shall I inform the servants of his arrival?"

Eloise nodded, "Yes. I had not anticipated on an early homecoming. There is much that needs to be done."

A bath was prepared and Ginelle eagerly obliged as she stripped away her rags and stepped into the steaming water. Eloise was there at her side to wash her hair and help scrub her back. She couldn't remember the last time she had, had such a luxury. She was not unnerved by Eloise's presence and in fact, welcomed it as her new found guardian described the entails of becoming a civilized, well-educated woman.

"A formal education is customary. You will be taught the basics in reading and writing. You will study arithmetic and the art of music and dance. You will learn many languages. You will grow accustomed to polished manners that will prove accessible when you manage your husband's estate once you are married."

Ginelle stiffened at the mention of matrimony.

A husband?

She had not given much thought to marriage and the thought of it made her stomach churn on the inside. What woman would submit herself to such imprisonment?

A man merely sought to control your every whim and thought. Nay, marriage was out of the question. She would never marry. She would not fall prey to another man so he could use his fist to silence her.

She quickly sought to change the subject. "How were ye taught to read and write?"

"I was sent to boarding school." Eloise fell silent as though she wanted to say more but turned away to retrieve a garment dispersed across the arm of the sofa. "I borrowed this from Ingrid until we can provide you with more suitable attire. She is not quite as small as you but will be adequate for the time being."

Ginelle reached out with hesitant hands to accept the gown. The cotton print dress was suitable considering her rank but immediately Eloise hastened as if to explain. "I could not find anything else that would fit your frame."

Ginelle knew it must have pained Ingrid terribly to have loan the gown to her. She must remember to thank her later though she was quite certain the maid wouldn't accept her gratitude.

"Let us not dally any longer than necessary. We have much to accomplish. We must find you a seamstress so that we may start on a wardrobe more fitting."

Ginelle wanted to tell Eloise that it wasn't necessary because she was not planning on staying for too long but she found that she seemingly enjoyed Eloise's presence. She enjoyed their conversations and most importantly, she never felt the need to tense when Eloise was near. She was devoid of her fears with Eloise at her side.

The dress was a smidge to big on her small frame but it offered warmth that her body had been denied from the rags that now lay discarded along the polished floor. The gown also provided a disguise from Pierino. He would not recognize her in a servant gown. Her disheveled hair now clean and combed had been pulled back into a plait, several strands slipping from their restraint to frame her face.

Eloise left the room momentarily and when she reappeared, she presented Ginelle with a velvet blue cloak and draped it around her shoulders. Ginelle lightly touched the material, marveling at its beautiful texture as they made their way down the hall. Ginelle was quick to notice the distaste etched into Ingrid's face and the scowl that deepened as the maid slipped by them.

She dropped her head, her hands entwining nervously against the skirt of Ingrid's dress. What had she done to displease Ingrid so? She pondered this as they made their way into the frigid air where they were greeted by an elderly coachman. He assisted them into the waiting carriage where Ginelle quickly settled into the leather seat and Eloise followed.

It wasn't until she realized their journey was leading them straight back into town that she felt that impending fear of Pierino rise. She suddenly had a shortness of breath and quickly turned her face to the window at her side. She closed her eyes against the sudden numbness seeping into her bones as her fingers curled painfully in her lap; her knuckles turning white from gripping them so tightly. What if he spotted her? Would he steal her from Eloise in broad daylight? The thought nearly made her choke on a sob at the dreaded fate that surely waited if she fell into Pierino's clutches.

A gentle hand fell on her shoulder, jarring her to awareness. "There is nothing to fear." Eloise said softly, her eyes large and blue, revealing the deep sincerity there.

Ginelle smiled in hopes of convincing Eloise that she believed her, but as she turned to peer out the window and the familiar perimeter of town came into view, she felt her heart thrust inside her chest along with a deep sense of foreboding dread.

Eloise spent the next several hours skimming through yards of fabric. She selected various materials that included muslin and silk and beautiful ribbons to adorn her hair. Before she knew it, she had everything she would have never dreamed of possessing. After getting her measurements, the seamstress started on a gown that fastened in the back and was made to fall around her ankles. Eloise explained that the cotton garment was a bed gown and Ginelle was relieved to know that she would not have to borrow Ingrid's any longer.

The seamstress described several printed and colored gowns with vertical bodices as Eloise listened intently while Ginelle remained cautious, careful to watch the passing bystanders outside the large window, fearful that she would see a frightening, familiar silhouette.

She was amazed that Eloise would go to such lengths to provide her with such a wardrobe. This list consisted of shifts and stays, gowns and petticoats including hats, shoes and all sorts of accessories, things she never imagined wearing.

When they left the seamstress with her extremely long list of needlework, Eloise took Ginelle's hand and they proceeded down the street. Somehow holding that larger hand in her own, she had a sense of belonging, self-worth. Eloise would never replace the mother she never knew, but Eloise had stepped in to care for an impoverished child, taking her under her care as if they were the dearest of kin. Just as quickly as that warmth spread through her chest, it rapidly diminished as a quick and rational thought came to mind. She would never rightfully belong with Eloise. She didn't belong in her world. She had been fearful of trusting a complete stranger yet somehow Eloise had quickly earned her trust and devotion, she had welcomed her into her aristocratic life without as much as a second thought.

Just as the merchant had called the previous day, she was naught but a street rat. A blacksmith's daughter abandoned to the streets. Her veins were not of an aristocratic blood and she was naught but an imposture at the Ashford manor. She now fully understood Ingrid's distaste and hatred. She was naught but a fraud to the maid and could she blame her? Why should Ingrid a maid, serve a lowly street rat?

Sensing something amiss, Eloise tugged lightly on Ginelle's hand, "What troubles you, sweeting?"

Ginelle paused, chewing on her lower lip before finally spilling her thoughts. "Ye have given me so much. I am not of privileged blood. I am not worthy of yer kindness."

"Is that what troubles you?" Eloise asked, perplexed. "Haven't you noticed that social rank is not of any importance to me? You tell me that it isn't right to dote on a child deprived of clothing and food, of shelter?" Eloise face altered with that all too familiar pain dwelling beneath the surface and she quickly concealed it from Ginelle's observant stare.

Ginelle remained silent as Eloise took her hand once more and they continued down the boisterous street teeming with life. She slipped closer to Eloise's side, seeking her protection as Eloise walked proud and unfettered by the utter chaos of the townsfolk.

The sun was beginning to descend, casting subtle hues of dusk across the sky as they made their way back to the plantation. Ginelle's body felt heavy with exhaustion from the earlier happenings of the day and eagerly sought sleep. She peered over at Eloise who sat straight in the leather seat, staring out the window, her eyes staring past the line of trees as if deep in thought.

As they pulled to a halt in front of the house and the coachman assisted them from the carriage, Ginelle tensed as Lucile came bounding from the house towards her mistress, her face pinched with anxiety.

"Milady." She called, casting a fearful glance in Ginelle's direction. "I must speak with you."

Eloise rushed forward to intercept the older woman and they exchanged a few words. "What is wrong, Lucile?"

"Tis Master Dorian, he's here." Ginelle's heart dropped at the older woman's apparent distress in her somber tone.

"Already?" Ginelle turned to look at Eloise who appeared far more excited than her worried maid. "Lucile, help Ginelle to her room and assist her to bed. We have had a trying day."

Lucile stood concerned as she stared at her mistress retreating back, than slowly turned to look at Ginelle, "Come child." She said and as Ginelle moved forward she caught the glint of alarm in the woman's dark eyes.

Ginelle settled onto the large bed and stared at the door where moments ago, the elderly maid, Lucile had departed. A heaviness settled in her chest and her heart beat to the rhythm of fear. Master Dorian had returned home. Though Lucile had tried to conceal her obvious distress, it was quite clear that the older woman was frantic on the inside. She peered down at her hand that had been cleaned of all blood and bandaged. She flexed her fingers across the cotton of her nightshirt and sighed, struggling against tears. Eloise had been so kind but she didn't belong here. She had willingly agreed to consider Eloise's proposition, but the reality of it was simple. Now that the Laird had returned, she had to leave.

She got to her feet and turned to admire the lovely canopied-bed. For a moment, she fancied it her own. She moved to the window and leaned against the frame, staring out into the vast approaching darkness. She gripped her mother's necklace and shuddered at the thought of returning to those dark, desolate streets where the threat of Pierino was consistent. For a short time, she had thought herself safe from him for he would have never thought to look for her here.

A single tear slipped from beneath her lashes. Eloise had done so much for her; had catered to her as though they were kindred. She couldn't continue this farce pretense. Eloise had given her silks and ribbons and filled her stomach and warmed her blood but most importantly, she had given her a moment of true happiness, even if it were for a short period of time. But what could she give Eloise in return? A street rat such as herself had naught to offer. Eloise's generosity knew no bounds and she couldn't allow herself to willingly accept her charity any longer.

She would leave.

Tonight.

Her chest felt heavy with the loss already. She would lose Eloise. She had only known Eloise for a short time and was accustomed to loss, and yet it still pained her deeply. She quickly swiped at the tears and stepped away from the window. She turned to survey the room, realizing her peasantry clothes were gone. She found Ingrid's dress lying across the arm of the sofa. Knowing the maid had reluctantly agreed to lend it to her; she decided she had no other option but to keep the gown, for the time being. She would return it once she found a set of garments for herself.

Ginelle lifted her head and studied the room one last time. None of this was real to her but the limitless pain, that deep hollowness in her chest. She quickly dressed and made her way to the door. She paused as her eyes settled on the cloak dispersed across the bed. The thought of having to endure the unforgiving winter sent a tremor through her. She scooped the garment in her arms and slipped out of the room, vowing she would return it as she stepped into the darkened hall.

**********

Eloise stopped abruptly as she came to the open study, immediately her eyes fell on the tall, formidable frame standing by the window. Her heart somersaulted as an image of their father rushed to mind for the man cast in shadow was a sheer replica of Clayton Ashford. As if sensing her presence, he turned and those piercing blue eyes regarded her with sudden warmth, quickly casting aside the frightening image.

"Dorian." She gathered her skirts and crossed the room to her elder brother, easing into his comforting embrace. Those strong, secure arms wrapped protectively around her, holding her tenderly as he had done when she was younger.

He planted a kiss atop her head as he said, "I have missed you." His deep resonant voice soothed her soul. Only she knew her brother's gentle nature for he rarely displayed it to others. To many, he was the dangerous and dark laird. His word was law, yet he could not resist anything when it came to his little sister.

She stepped away to peer up at him, taking note of the lines of fatigue around his eyes and mouth. "Was the trade successful?" she inquired.

He smirked, "Do you suddenly have an interest in my profession, soeur?"

Eloise smiled as she stepped back, "Tis no secret that I disapprove of it."

"Indeed." He said, watching her curiously. "You are hiding something." It wasn't a question but an assertion as those distinct, inquisitive blue eyes studied her intensely.

She moved to put space between them, bracing herself for his anger for she was certain he would disfavor the idea of their house guest. "I went to the market yesterday."

A dark brow arched as he said, "Alone? That does not please me." His voice dropped to a dangerous lilt.

Dorian would never hurt her of that she was certain but his temper was to be feared. Cautiously, she continued. "I came upon a child." She lifted her azure gaze to stare more firmly at her brother as realization settled in those lucid eyes.

"Eloise-" he began earnestly, "Pray tell that you did not bring a stranger into my house." There it was, she thought, that simmering rage just beneath the surface.

She stood her ground, determined to do what she could for Ginelle, even daring to challenge the Laird. "She needs a home, Dorian." She stated firmly, lifting her chin defiantly. "And I am willing to provide her a home. She is my concern."

"In what sense?" Dorian growled.

She forced herself to not flinch against his sudden rising anger. "She needs me."

His hands curled into fists at his sides, his jaw set into a dangerous line. "Damn it, I will not permit it and you will not defy me in this."

"Dorian please-"

"What do you know of this stranger?" he waited and than said. "It is out of the question."

Eloise narrowed her eyes at her brother, "You speak nonsense. What of the criminals and thieves you purchase to work in your fields? They are far more of a threat than that of a mere child."

"Those criminals and thieves sleep outside these walls a field away and are heavily guarded."

She fell silent as she regarded her brother with smoky, blue eyes. She had expected his imperious manner but the girl was merely a child. "Dorian." She said more softly, her eyes blurring with unshed tears. "Please grant me this request."

A heavy silence settled between them and she feared he was certain in his decree.

"The child may stay under certain circumstances." He paused so she could absorb his words. "The child is your responsibility. She is to stay clear of the fields and my men. She is not to interfere, is that understood?"

Eloise nodded, resisting the urge to smile.

"One more thing." His face darkened before adding, "She is to stay clear of me."

After his sister had left the study, Dorian Don Ashford turned to poor himself a healthy glass of brandy. He drowned the distilled liquid in one swallow and slammed the glass down with enough force to shatter it. He swept a hand through his dark tresses as he pondered over their 'houseguest'.

He could not deny his beloved sister anything and blast the wee brat for she knew it. His hardened heart was guarded against everyone and everything except his younger sister. He loved her more than life itself and couldn't imagine life without her. He had not been accepting of her betrothal to Philip Sussman but her apparent happiness slowly encouraged him to allow the young lad to marry his sister.

It wasn't until the death of her husband and that of her unborn child that she succumbed to sorrow and grief, becoming a mere shadow of herself. It tore him apart to see her suffer. On that reason alone, he agreed to allow the child to stay for he could see a change in Eloise, a spark of life that had not been there when he left seven months ago. Though he disapproved greatly of it, mayhap it would be a healing remedy for his sister.

Eloise was indeed a beauty, a spitting image of their docile mother but nothing like her in spirit. Their mother had been timid and meek, where as Eloise was willful and resolute. He admired her bravado for only she could walk away unscathed after their exchange of heated words.

He settled into the leather seat at his desk and leaned back to stretch his long legs as his thoughts darkened. Just as quickly as they surfaced, he dismissed them, not wanting to dwell on the past. His mind turned to more important matters such as business. The weather had proved to be dreadful on his voyage, prohibiting his efforts in trading. Gratefully, the wintry season was almost at an end. In the duration of several weeks, he could return to sea. In the meantime, he would have his laborers in preparation for planting season.

As Eloise made her way down the corridor, seemingly pleased, she came to a sudden halt as Mirabelle, a chambermaid hurried towards her, clearly frantic. "Milady!"

"What is wrong, Belle?" she asked, a fear settling in the pit of her stomach.

"The girl has run away." The young maid cried, turning to point to the abandoned room. "Tis empty."

"What?" the blood drained from her face as she rushed by Belle and pushed open the door to find a vacant room. She whirled back around to grab Belle's shoulders. "Do you know where she went? Did you see her?"

The maid shook her head helplessly, "Nay milady, but her cloak is missin'."

Gathering her skirts, Eloise fled down the corridor, rushing to the study. She didn't bother to knock as she pushed open the door, her abrupt arrival instantly bringing Dorian to his feet. "What is wrong?" Dorian demanded, coming around the desk to his sister.

"Ginelle has run away."

He frowned and than mumbled a stream of curses. "Damn it, I should not have agreed to this." He said as he swept pass his sister and out of the room.

Eloise was close at his heels as he snatched up his discarded cloak and proceeded out the front door. He bellowed for the stable boy to bring him his horse and whirled to intercept his sister, his eyes narrowing as he commanded, "You are to stay here."

Immediately she shook her head, "No, I will come with you."

"Bloody hell Eloise, do not argue with me."

She grabbed his arm as he started to turn towards the stable boy who approached with his horse. "You don't understand, Dorian. She is very skittish. She will only run when she sees you."

He pondered this for a moment before violently hissing under his breath as he swung up into the saddle and extended a hand to her. He grabbed the reins and spun the thoroughbred around as Eloise slipped her arms around his midriff, he stared towards town.

"No!" Eloise cried from behind, "She would not go to town."

He frowned as he growled, "Where then?"

She pointed to the dark foliage behind their estate. "There!"

She had been a complete and utter fool, Ginelle thought as she trembled violently in her cloak. Somehow, she had thought the dense forest would prove to be a safe refuge compared to the dangers of town. The darkness here was far more threatening. A sudden wind forced scattered leaves astray, bringing forth a bitter cold. Trees swayed in warning, their entangled limbs appeared like extended arms beneath the ghost moon. She felt the anxiety surfacing and she spun widely about, whimpering as distinct growls emerged from the blackness. Had she imagined them?

The fierce wind whipped at the hood of her cloak, tearing her hair free of its bound. Her eyes jumped warily from side to side as she backed away in haste, her fears heightening with each strangled breath. Despite the cold air, she felt beads of perspiration bathe her back beneath the cloak as she forced down a panicked cry.

It was then she heard a hoarse cry before a thundering black beast erupted from the darkness. Her eyes widened in stark alarm and she gasped in terror as she stumbled backwards; a root catching her heel before tumbling to the ground as those powerful hooves came thundering towards her.

She released a scream and brought her arm up above her face to take the brunt of the attack. Her heart hastened within her chest and she clenched her eyes shut, waiting for the impact, only to stiffen as gentle hands grasped her shoulders, shaking her.

"Ginelle!" Eloise voice penetrated her fear and she was overcome with a wave of relief to that familiar, soft voice and she opened her eyes to peer into that worried, azure gaze.

She said nothing as she bolted upright into Eloise's arms. She clenched her eyes closed against the tears as those comforting arms wrapped securely around her shivering frame.

Eloise simply held her, rocking her gently as though she were a babe. She reached up to push tangled strands of hair from her face as she whispered gentle words to ease her fear.

As Ginelle eased back to look at Eloise, it was than she spotted Death sitting atop the ominous black beast snorting in protest and she was unable to tear her gaze away from those eyes of steel. That cold, calculating look regarded her in bold assessment. The man's domineering disposition made her tremble as panic seized her as an urging impulse insisted she flee.

"What possessed you to run?" Eloise's anxious voice forced her eyes from the menacing figure as she searched for a plausible answer. Eloise didn't wait for a reply as she got to her feet and helped Ginelle up. As she started towards the horse and the dangerous looking man with his unwavering stare, she stiffened and backed away.

"It's okay." Eloise quickly sought to appease her fear, "Dorian will not hurt you."

Dorian? This dark, menacing stranger was her brother? At that thought, she watched as the man called Dorian dismounted and extended a hand to Eloise.

Eloise hesitated, "Come back to the manor with me, Ginelle."

As silence carried out, the towering stranger moved towards her with a grunt of impatience. She released a squeak of alarm as she backed away, Eloise protesting in alarm as her brother scooped Ginelle up and deposited her into the saddle. She didn't have time to deal with the sudden rush of fear or the swift urge to faint as the man called Dorian turned to do the same with Eloise.

The man seized the reins and turned the massive beast around, urging the horse back towards the plantation on foot. Her heart pounded within her chest as she stared at that rigid back and the mane of black hair falling to broad shoulders. This man was dangerous. Each stride bore that of authority and an aggressiveness that she dare not test. As the estate came into view, she wondered if she would have to face Eloise's immediate words of distress or this man's tyrannical fist.

Ginelle studied Eloise's pacing frame as she sat on the bed, wrapped in a thick coverlet. The evident dismay contorting the fine lines of her agile face made Ginelle uneasy as Eloise tugged at her cloak and tossed it carelessly aside. She stopped her anxious pacing to stare down at her, planting her hands on her hips as if to scold a misbehaved child.

"What were you thinking?" she demanded, her voice was soft but stern.

Ginelle lowered her gaze, uncertain as to what to say. How could she tell Eloise that she didn't belong with the affluent society, with her?

"Do you understand the danger that awaited you? A child unattended is simply an invitation to brigands."

Ginelle stiffened, her eyes widening in immediate alarm. She had not given much thought to other threats. Her thoughts had focused strictly on the darkness and Pierino. Eloise stepped forward and gently grasped her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I did not mean to frighten you, but you must understand that you are susceptible to many risks."

Ginelle nodded soberly and yet was not comforted for the image of a dark and imposing man came to mind. What danger did the Lord Dorian present?

After Eloise had retired from the room, Ginelle forced herself to bed. As the fire beneath the mantle crackled, Ginelle tossed and turned beneath the blankets, her thoughts were racing and the feeling of trepidation rising. When she finally fell asleep, her dreams were plagued with terrifying images.

She was running. The ground beneath her was soft but tiny pebbles pierced the soles of her feet. Her face was wet but there was no rain, she must be crying. She was crying. She pressed a shaky hand to her chest and felt the frantic beat of her heart, pulsing violently.

Ginelle!

She gasped as she came to a sudden halt. That voice! She knew that voice and dreaded it! Her feet wouldn't budge. She demanded her body to move but she remained frozen as she watched the trees sway in warning. He was upon her.

Ginelle.

The voice was closer. She heard the distinct sound of boots crushing decayed leaves. She turned as a shadow emerged, the silhouette revealing naught of its features but sharp, black eyes; eyes of a predator.

Ginelle bolted upright in bed and inhaled sharply. Her eyes moved instantly around the room, taking in her surroundings, reassuring herself she was safe and far from Pierino. She fell back against the headboard and pulled the coverlet to her chin as she cast a wary glance to the window where the vivid moon taunted her, silver rivulets of moonlight slipping pass the parted drapes to flow across the bed. She could find no comfort in its ethereal beauty.

A child unattended is simply an invitation to brigands. She closed her eyes as she focused on each labored breath. Eloise words came rushing back in a grip of terror. What would have happened if she had fallen into the wrong hands? Her logical decision from earlier now seemed reckless and foolish. The weather was terrible and she had no means of shelter. Where else could she go but back into the hands of Pierino? She shuddered at the thought as she reached up and gripped her mother's locket.

The silence of the room was deafening. She could not seem to shake the tremors from her body and it seemed as if the darkness that clung to the room had grown even darker.

Ginelle closed her eyes and struggled to keep her anxiety at bay. She could hear a sudden gust of wind outside her window and that sent her heart reeling against her chest.

She shoved the heavy quilts aside and stepped down from the bed. Her borrowed nightshirt fell low around her ankles as she made her way towards the door. She gripped the latch with unsteady hands as she quietly parted the door and peered out into the abandoned hall.

She could hear naught but the gentle patter of her feet as she slipped through the shadows. She pushed a stubborn strand of hair from her face as she turned a corner and came to the top of the winding stairway. Slowly, she made her descent, her eyes straining against the heavy darkness. Her heart began a rhythmic pounding within her chest as she came to the bottom and paused, her eyes settling on a door slightly ajar and the floor below it illuminating a flickering light.

Ginelle approached the door and pushed it open. Immediately, her eyes settled on the stoked fire beneath a mantle in exact replica to the one in her room. She moved with hesitant steps towards the fire, somehow drawn to the large, spacious room.

"What are you doing here?" she stiffened at the great, harsh voice coming from the right side of the room and she whirled to study the solid silhouette staring back at her with those glacial eyes of steel.

Dorian leaned comfortably into the overstuffed chair, taking pleasure in the warmth and comfort it provided when a distinct noise brought him alert. His hand moved to the blade hidden beneath his tunic, his eyes narrowing in speculation. His fingers paused around the hilt as a small, distinguishable shadow made its way discreetly into the room.

The warm, radiant glow cast from the fire encased her in a shroud of deep, flickering gold. Shadows danced across the delicate features of the child's pensive face as she took small overt steps to stand before the hearth. The nightshirt swallowed her little frame and Dorian contemplated the child's age. Her bone structure was painfully fragile; her petite frame naught but a thin, feeble body beneath the cotton shift. Her pale tresses had been pulled back into a plait, several tedious strands escaping their restraint to frame her ethereal face.

A disturbing notion occurred to him. She was a pretty child.

His scowl deepened and he promptly banished the disquieting thought. "What are you doing here?" the words were released on a deep growl, indicating his sudden shift in mood.

The child pivoted, those large brown eyes widening in abrupt panic. As he leaned forward to better examine the sudden rush of blood that fled her face, she retreated a few paces, her limbs trembling as though he were going to pounce on her at any moment.

"I-I'm s-sorry." She fumbled with words as a profound fear paralyzed her.

"You shouldn't be here." He warned; his anger evident in the baritone of his voice. He stiffened as the sudden glint of tears surfaced in those wide, soft eyes and yet he could see her struggle to hold them back. Without another word, she turned and fled the room.

**********

The next morning, Ginelle was seated at a beautifully long, trestle table laden with food. A brilliant chandelier hung above; heavily adorned with glass crystals glinting in the morning light emitting through the heavy drapes, but its beauty went unnoticed as her thoughts were disturbed with an assertive pair of cold, blue eyes. After her encounter with the dark laird last night, sleep had eluded her. She feared what the break of day would bring, fearful that the domineering lord would scold and berate her inquisitive actions the previous night, but he man was vacant from the breakfast table and as she spared a glance at Eloise at her side, she appeared unaware of what transpired.

The servants scurried in haste around the table, each carrying a tray exhibiting an assortment of food from boiled eggs to blocks of cheese. Her mouth watered as her eyes settled on fresh baked biscuits and a bowl of steaming oatmeal that a maid carried her way. As soon as the porridge was placed in front of her, she wasted no time in devouring the tasty meal.

A gentle laugh erupted at her hearty appetite and Ginelle paused with the spoon just inches from her mouth to peer at Eloise grinning with amusement flickering in the blue of her eyes. Eloise reached over and gently patted her hand gripping the utensil. "We will have to work on your etiquette."

Ginelle smiled sheepishly as she watched Eloise take a modest bite of the porridge and than slowly, Ginelle mirrored the gesture. Almost immediately, her stomach protested, growling nosily to force a deep blush into her cheeks.

Suddenly, the steward, Bogart appeared in the dining hall, his slender frame garbed in his usual black waist-coat and cotton trousers. "Milady?" he inquired, catching Eloise attention. "Lieutenant Stefan Cummings is here to see Master Dorian."

Eloise smiled as she gathered to her feet and Ginelle quickly did the same as a tall, slender man followed in behind the cynical Bogart. Lieutenant Cummings was a young and handsome man with an abundance of unruly, wheat hair. He produced a charming smile as his russet eyes met Eloise from across the room. "Lady Ashford, tis always a pleasure." He moved to accept her hand and gently caressed her knuckles with a kiss.

"Lieutenant, we are pass formality. Please, call me Eloise." Ginelle watched their exchange from beneath her lashes.

"As much pleasure as it would bring me, Lady Ashford, I must refrain for my gentleman reverence would not permit it." He replied with a dazzling smile.

His eyes than rested on Ginelle and immediately she dropped her head to avoid his stare as her fingers entwined nervously against the skirt of her dress. She felt someone step in beside her and the tension slightly eased from her body as Eloise said, "This is my ward, Miss Ginelle Pattinson."

Ginelle was quick to notice that Eloise had not mentioned her real last name and for that she was grateful. If someone were to learn of her whereabouts, she would never be safe for Pierino would not give up in finding her.

A look of interest brightened the man's eyes as he turned to fully address her but still spoke to Eloise. "I was not aware that you had taken in a protégé, milady. Is the young miss kin to the Ashford line? It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Pattinson."

Ginelle was relieved that the Lieutenant had not repeated the same custom of kissing her hand as he had done with Eloise.

Those observant, russet eyes averted back to Eloise. "Where might I find your troublesome brother?"

Eloise smiled, "He is in the study. May I inquire of your visit, Lieutenant?" she paused for a moment before adding, "I assume you bring unfortunate news?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Aye, milady." His voice lacked in exuberance.

Eloise quickly sought to conceal the disappointment, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Very well, Lieutenant. I will not keep you from business."

Ginelle watched as the Lieutenant took her hand once more and softly kissed her knuckles. His hand lingered for a moment and than he straightened and left the room. Ginelle peered up at Eloise but her expression revealed naught of her displeasure.

As Dorian studied the engraved map dispersed across the mahogany desk, a knock jarred him to awareness. Lieutenant Cummings didn't wait for an invitation and instead pushed open the door and strolled into the room.

A dark brow arched, "Lieutenant? What brings you to my estate?" his eyes narrowed as his old and trusty companion slid comfortably into the leather seat across from him. "I see you find no difficulty in making yourself comfortable, lad."

Cummings smirked, "Aye." He leaned back into the seat and surveyed the study, pausing to admire the marvelous collection of leather-bound books lining the walls of the room. "This room is smothering." he tossed one leg over the other as he turned back to peer at Dorian who merely scowled deeply.

"Surely you did not come all this way to criticize my study? What brings you here, Lieutenant?"

All amusement fled Cummings' face as he dropped his leg and leaned forward, "There is trouble brewing at sea. That bastard Reyes has captured another of our vessels, this one containing valuable cargo."

"Which vessel?" Dorian demanded his voice dropping precariously to a dangerous tone.

"The Silver Wind. He seized the shipment of barrels containing cash crops, the expensive furs-"

Dorian abruptly stood, flexing his hands along the smooth surface of his desk as he asked, "What of the crew?"

Cummings stiffened his face paling beneath that intense, blue scrutiny. "They were seized, Captain."

Dorian gritted his teeth, his jaw flexing as the muscle ticked dangerously; his temper flaring. He swept a hand through his disorderly mane of black hair and turned to the window. Two vessels had been seized by the self-proclaimed Spaniard King, stealing him of profitable cargo, not to mention the lives of his men.

He released a string of curses before turning back to his Lieutenant. "Is there a ship docked?"

Cummings nodded, "Aye, The Lady Charlotte."

Dorian's thoughts instantly turned to Eloise. He had just returned only to be forced back to sea once again, but this time he would not know when he would return. "Inform the crew and prepare the vessel."

Cummings nodded briefly, "Aye, Captain."

Dorian watched his retreating back before sweeping an arm across the effects adorning his escritoire. He cursed violently beneath his breath as he turned and braced his hands against the wall, his temper rising to dangerous measures.

"Dorian?"

He turned as Eloise stepped into the study, her blue eyes assessing the broken clutter along the elegant rug. "What news did Lieutenant Cummings bring?" she gently closed the door and stepped towards him, the deep-set of her eyes daunting as she approached him.

Dorian straightened and inhaled deeply to brace his sister's verbal attack that was surely to come. "Another vessel has been claimed." He said sharply, "A Spaniard has laid siege on my crew and cargo."

Eloise stiffened, "You are leaving?" she asked, perplexed.

He nodded.

"So soon? You have just returned."

"I leave tonight."

She blanched as the blood hastened from her face and she advanced towards him in outrage. "This is absurd!"

"Eloise-"

"No." she said firmly, her eyes stormy with affliction. "You haven't even settled and already your obligations are calling you."

His face darkened, "I have responsibilities that I cannot disregard."

She lifted her chin and glared definitely up at him, "What of your responsibilities here, Dorian?"

His fists clenched at his sides as he glared down at her, resisting the urge to throttle her. "Several of my men will remain behind to see that the fields are tended and the laborers are guarded. I have far more important matters to attend. The fate of my crew depends entirely on me, Eloise."

His sudden flare of anger was quickly extinguished as those blue eyes glistened with tears. He reached out and gently cupped her chin, "What is it that you fear soeur?"

Eloise peered up at him as she fought back her tears. "I fear the day you will not return."

Dorian pulled her gently into his embrace, holding her tenderly as he had done when she was little before she had gone to boarding school. He placed his chin atop her head and said, "You need not fear for my wellbeing." He said to reassure her.

"You are not immune to death, dear brother." She stepped back to look up at him, "How long will you be gone?"

He hesitated, "I know not. There is much that needs to be done. Tracking the Spaniard will be my biggest challenge as well as finding my crew. The cargo can be replaced but the lives of my men cannot. Much time will be needed to find them."

"I understand your responsibility." Eloise said gently struggling internally to conceal her dismay. Dorian was all she had left of her family; she couldn't bare the thought of losing him.

Ginelle knew something was amiss once Eloise returned to the parlor. Her raven curls were slightly disarranged, her ivory complexion revealing a faint blush and there was a dull redness in her blue eyes. Had she been crying?

She cleared her throat as she moved to the far side of the room to peer out the window. She was quiet for a moment before turning to a rather large, black object sitting in the corner before the mantelpiece. Eloise reached out and touched the sleek black surface before asking, "Do you know what this is, Ginelle?"

Ginelle stepped forward in curiosity as she studied the magnificent piece in all its ebony glory. Eloise settled onto a leather bench and lifted the heavy lid to reveal a row of black and white keys. Ginelle settled in beside Eloise as she continued, "It is a piano."

"A piano?" her face brightened with genuine interest.

Eloise smiled, "Have you heard of it?"

She nodded, "Aye, but I have never seen one until now."

She fell silent as Eloise began to play a soft melody. Her fingers danced delicately over the black and white keys, creating a structured flow of musical notes and gentle cords. The sound was alluring to Ginelle. The combination of notes blended together in a perfect cadence created a beautiful rhythmical harmony. Ginelle smiled despite the doubt clouding her thoughts. Would she ever learn to play such a magnificent instrument?

"Music is a necessary skill." Eloise started, "You will have both music and dance lessons. You will also learn to cook and sew. You will have a wide expanse of domestic skills in a few years time."

She stopped playing and turned to smile down at Ginelle, but Ginelle was quick to notice that her eyes lacked happiness and revealed a dull light, as though something deeply troubled her.

"That is lovely." Eloise said, pointing to the locket around her neck.

She glanced down, not realizing she had been gripping the chain all along. "Twas my mother's." she said softly reaching up to open the small case concealing a miniature portrait of her mother.

"She is beautiful." Eloise said, studying the small picture of the blond haired woman. "You resemble her."

Ginelle's heart fluttered within her chest as she lifted her head to peer at Eloise. "You think so?" she asked gleefully.

Eloise straightened; her smile widening. "You have her eyes."

Ginelle lowered her head as she reached up and touched the delicate picture. She smiled to herself. She resembled her mother.

She had not realized that Eloise had slipped from the room until she lifted her head and found herself alone. She focused her attention on the beautiful stretch of black and white keys and felt her fingers twitch with curiosity and anticipation. She reached up and gently pressed down on a key; the note sharp and intricate. She smiled as she pressed down on two other keys, both producing a different tune. Her smile broadened as she tested the others, each individual sound heightening her eagerness to learn and explore music.

She caught a looming shadow in her peripheral. Her gaze jerked from the keyboard to the imposing frame watching her through cold, observant eyes. She wrenched her hands from the piano as if the instrument had burned to the touch. Ginelle wondered now if he would scold her because of last night or worse, beat her. She remained unmoving, fearful as of what to do as he continued to stare at her, making her consciously aware that they were alone. It was obvious the dark laird disapproved of her presence. Did he too disagree with her staying here because of her lowly rank? This was after all his estate. If he commanded that she leave, there was naught Eloise could prevent.

"I will not tolerate thievery while I am away. Is that understood?" his declaration shocked her. Did he really believe she would steal from Eloise? "Is that understood?" his voice dropped to a dangerous pitch and she stiffened.

"Aye, milord." She answered sorely. It pained her deeply that someone would think so poorly of her, but what else was she to expect? She was after all a street rat prone to pick-pocketing but he knew naught of her circumstances. She had done it in order to survive. Ginelle blinked away her tears, not wanting to show a sign of weakness before this towering beast of a man.

It wasn't until he left the room that she allowed the tears to come. She brushed them away with shaky hands and moved to stand by the window as tiny snowflakes fluttered from the sky, falling gently to the moist terrain below. She shuddered with grief as an image of her papa came to mind, the two of them playing in the snow. A sob lodged in her throat and she turned from the window, pressing her back against it as she closed her eyes against the intense pain surfacing in her chest.

Her papa was gone.

Forever lost to her.

Later that evening, Ginelle noticed once again that the dark Lord was absent from the table. As the servants scurried around the room, going about their tasks, she was keenly aware that Eloise appeared withdrawn, her usual manner of buoyancy all but dissolute. Ginelle toyed with her utensils as a thought occurred to her.

She remembered something he had said earlier to her in the parlor. I will not tolerate thievery while I am away. That would explain Eloise's sudden change in mood. Her brother was leaving again? She didn't realize how disturbing his presence truly was until she felt sudden relief at the thought of him leaving. He was a formidable man that unnerved her. Although it was a welcoming remedy her heart ached for Eloise for it was evident she adored her elder brother and wanted him home.

"How long will he be gone?"

Eloise stiffened as if suddenly jarred to awareness. She turned those deep, azure eyes to Ginelle and she wondered if she had made a mistake by meddling when it was none of her concern, but it pained her to see Eloise distraught.

"I do not know." Eloise replied, her voice barely revealing the sadness that was clearly there in the blue of her eyes. She smiled than as she reached over and patted Ginelle's hand. "No need to fret. He is quite capable of taking care of himself." Though she spoke the words to Ginelle, she was certain they were said aloud as if to reassure herself.

**********