Somerset, England  -  1845

     James sat in a chair by the bed, scowling severely at the beautiful young woman. If it weren't for her beauty and play at his conscience, he'd have tossed her out long before now. She had an entrancing air about her, but was stubborn as a mule. Not to mention her test on his patience.

    "I cannot fathom any reason for you not to reveal your name," he said again, for what seemed the tenth time. "I have already given my word to conceal your 
whereabouts."

    Her chin jutted out obstinately. "I'm sorry, sir, but I cannot. My very life depends upon it. Now, if would please move your knight as to allow me checkmate."

    He'd nearly forgotten the chess board again. The past week had left him tending to her during her waking and sleeping hours. In finding entertainment for her, he'd been surprised to find her quite educated and witty, unlike other women he'd dealt with in the past. And though it disturbed him greatly, her sleeping hours had found him staring at her in peaceful slumber, unable to pull himself away.

    "My lord?"

    "Would you not even allow me a moments thought?" he nearly bellowed.

    "My apologies. I am certain you will find no other move, however."

    He grunted at her smug  expression. A woman playing chess of all things. Had she no understanding of her proper place? 

    To his utter chagrin he found her claim to be all too true. With a grunt, he moved his knight to be taken by her queen, placing him in checkmate.

    He removed the board, taking extra care not to touch her. He'd done so once, and the resulting sensations it caused disturbed him greatly. He took notice of her attempting to shift to a more comfortable position. He inhaled sharply. So much for his resolve to not touch her.

    "Let me help you," he muttered, despising his automatic response of courtesy. 

    She winced as he pulled her against him to adjust the pillows, laying her back as carefully as possible so as not to cause her more pain. "Better?"

    She nodded, averting her gaze. "I'm truly sorry for the inconvenience I'm causing you," she said.

    "Forgive me for my disbelief. I've suffered the ill attentions of calculating women all too often since my inheritance."

    She turned her large blue eyes in his direction, entrancing him instantly. He'd never seen such soulful eyes, her every emotion revealed in them. "Women of society can be quite cruel in their intentions," she offered.

    "You are familiar with society, then?" he asked, hoping to catch her off-guard to glean a slip of information.

    "I know too much of it, sir, and only wish I had never become involved. If it weren't for the sudden death of my parents, I am certain my circumstances would differ greatly. But I wasn't meant to die . . . then."

    The emotion in her voice disturbed him greatly. She didn't come off as a woman interested in his wealth. Yet he knew the most calculating could pull off such a performance. After all, hadn't Amelia . . . "Having to deal with the death of one's parents is a difficult situation," he snapped. "But one must make the best of it."

    She studied his face a moment, a slight smile touching her lips. "Believe me, I had. As I'm certain you did as well."

    He blinked in surprise. "And what would you know of my situation? You claim you do not know who I am."

    Her gaze held his intently. "Only one that has suffered the pain, would reveal it through their eyes. Your eyes hold much pain, sir, no matter how much you attempt to reveal its true effect on you. But I only wish to remind you that I was not the cause of it."

    He stood from his chair, pacing to the window. "Perhaps not, but you've certainly become an inconvenience at a time when I least needed one."

    She said nothing to this, the silence between them neither comfortable nor awkward. It was as if there were something more he couldn't see, though it hovered clearly in front of him.

    "Your accent is that of Kent. Might I assume that is where you are from?"

    "If you wish," she said only, serving to irritate his already frayed nerves.

    "I have given you a full week to keep your secrets. Unless you divulge to me your circumstances, I will be forced to make your whereabouts known."

    This had the desired effect. Her eyes grew large, terror evident in the dark, blue depths. A twinge of guilt flickered, but he refused to back down. It was time to discover the circumstances behind her mysterious arrival.

    "Please, sir, do not."

    "I expect answers, then."

    She hesitated a moment, fidgeting with the coverlet. At long last she let out a sigh. "As I said before, my parents were killed. I was with them in the carriage at the time, had to watch as they were shot to death. A mere four years old. Though I wasn't shot, I was left to wander about aimlessly. Likely the men assumed I would lose my way and eventually starve to death, if not be eaten by some wild animal or another."

    James's throat went dry. Her story made his circumstances seem trivial and petty. He nodded for her to continue.

    She chewed her lip a moment as if to check her emotions. "By luck I was found by one of the village folk who recognized me and brought me to my uncle. Under his care I was nearly hidden away, instructed with fluency in French, highly educated, and trained in the ways of the society. I didn't understand the importance his actions, as I was mostly held back from society. Until one day I discovered what my uncle had planned for me all along."

    Finally, the information he was looking for. "Which was?"

    But her lips pursed determinedly. "I cannot say, sir, though I can tell you he was to earn a sizeable sum. Knowing it was folly to confront him, I decided to run away. I wasn't certain where I was to go, but knew I must escape him."

    James eyed her carefully, drumming his fingers on his jacket sleeve. His eyes watched for any sign of deceit, though he had to admit she appeared sincere.

    "I managed to avoid his hired men, until one week ago." Her gaze met his forcefully. "My choice was to either ride my horse off the cliff and hope to survive the rocks below, or know the sudden death of my uncle's wrath."

    James returned her gaze, unable to allow himself to believe her. Apparently she could see this.

    "I don't blame you for your disbelief. I only ask you to allow me to stay until I am well enough to depart of my own accord. I promise you shall not be bothered with me again."

    "No gentleman would agree to such a thing."

    "No gentleman would put a lady's life at risk."

  To be continued . . .

 Further installments of my short story can be found on my Web site at http://hometown.aol.com/ samanthadarenger/myhomepage/writing.html
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