Chapter Four

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          The silence was almost deafening, the only sounds were the occasional squawk of a backwoods bird and the incessant stirring of the woodlands.

          Elle gripped the pommel of the saddle and trembled within her cloak, realizing with a disheartening sigh that she was leaving everything she knew and loved behind her. But rather than succumb to feelings of sorrow and dismay, she squared her shoulders and thrust her chin into the brisk air that smelled strongly of leaves shedding their boughs.

          She could do this – would do this. She had no other choice.

          Though she could not see the forest, she knew it was as forlorn as many had proclaimed. She didn't know which she feared most – her dark, brooding captor, or the encompassing trees cast in darkness.

           She could feel Rossetti's grip, strong and firm, steering her mare. Her brows furrowed. Why had he chosen her? Her blindness was obvious, and so she couldn't fathom as to how she could possibly be of any use to him – except one. And that set her heart a racing.

           "Your father favors you." The dark lilt of his voice startled her from her immersed thoughts, jolting her heart into another uneven cadence.

           "My father loves my sisters and I just the same, your lordship." Surprisingly, her voice did not betray her fear.

           He chuckled deeply. "Nevertheless, he was quite against brandishing you. Why is that, I imagine, if not for favoritism?"

           "For what reasons, my lord, other than my blindness?" she stated.

            "Yet, the villagers seemed quite eager in sacrificing you. I wonder, what do they say of you, nymph?"

           "Do you, sir, know what they say of you?" she snapped haughtily then gasped, stiffening at her impulsive retort.

           She tensed as their horses came to a sudden halt, his steed falling in beside her, his presence looming close. A breath snagged in her throat at the proximity of his nearness and the sudden heat radiating from his body.

            "I'm quite informed on what others have to say of me." She was surprised to detect an underlying hint of humor hidden within his gruff baritone. "I asked if you knew what was said of you," he repeated.

           He shifted beside her and her skin prickled in awareness to his closeness, her heart turning over with a strange and mad fluttering. "I'm blind, sir, not deaf. So I can assure you that what is said of me falls on heightened ears."

           "You are unconcerned with what others say?" he asked with a fraction of wonder.

           "They will have their partial opinions of me, my lord, whether I choose to heed them or not."

           A sudden gust of wind startled her horse, forcing the mare to jolt unexpectedly. Elle gasped as the momentum of it nearly unsaddled her, but she was quickly righted by a firm, steadying hand.

           After taking a moment to catch her breath, his voice came again, "In light of the situation, given your position in all this, you will cease in addressing me so formally," Rossetti snarled, that callused hand fastened about her arm, hinted at the strength that could easily be wielded by those lean fingers.

           Elle's throat constricted nervously as her heartbeat raged on her ears. Do you intend to ruin me? She had wanted to ask but those words never made it past the knot in her throat. They faltered along with her courage and instead, opted to say on a whisper, "And pray tell, my lord, what position am I to serve?"

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