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“Satisfy yourself, Lord Ivan,” Newlin offered after a nod from Cree.

Newlin led the way, Torin following hastily behind him and whispering something to him and Newlin nodding. Cree waited and followed last, behind Ivan. He would have no one at his back, at least none he did not trust.

Cree halted on the second step from the bottom as surprised as the other men and realized why his wife and Tavia had exchanged smiles.

“You keep your dungeon clean and well scented?” Ivan asked, looking around in disbelief. “And you give the prisoner a sleeping pallet, blankets, a candle—food! A bucket of water as well?” Lord Ivan was taken aback when the prisoner stepped out of the shadows. “A woman? You think this woman is a demon?”

Cree stared at her along with the men. The grime on her face was gone and her auburn hair had been combed and plaited and a soft, sweet scent filled the damp air. It could come from only one place, the fresh rushes covering the earth floor. He contained the spark of anger in him that his wife could have been in the cell with the woman or waited outside of it while the cell was cleaned. She took a chance she never should have taken. But did she?

Dawn might not agree with him concerning Fia, but she would not take such a chance when she knew how much he worried about her and their unborn bairn. Though, that did not mean she did not have a hand in this change.

The woman stared at Ivan, a strange stare, her dark eyes focused solely on him as though she saw something in him not visible to others. It unnerved the man and he stepped away from the cell even though he was not that close to it.

“I am no demon, sir,” Fia said with a bow of her head and her hands folded demurely in front of her.

“I agree with you, but your fate lies in Newlin’s hands, not mine,” Ivan said. “Did you see anyone in the woods?”

“I caught a glimpse of a small band of men, but saw no others,” Fia said.

Cree studied Fia as she spoke. She was cautious, measuring her words. She had been much more relaxed around Dawn. Fear. She feared these men, but not so Dawn. She had good reason for her fear since he did not think Newlin had entirely dismissed the thought of torture.

“You waste your time with this woman,” Ivan said, dismissing the notion with a wave of his hand. He seemed to think better of his decision and shrugged. “But torture might get you something.”

Cree admired the woman’s courage in the face of fear. She did not plead for her life. She did not drop to her knees and beg Newlin to spare her. She remained standing, a slight bow to her head, and her hands clasped in front of her, a pious stance for sure.

Ivan shook his head. “A dungeon is a place of squalor and despair, not this nonsense.”

Cree knew what Newlin was thinking—it was all Dawn’s fault. She had seen to getting her way and from the look on Torin’s face he agreed. He stepped off the stairs when Ivan turned toward them, once again intending to be last in line.

“My visit here is not a complete waste,” Ivan said, rubbing his bushy beard. “That young woman, Flora, is in your care?”

“She is, my lord,” Newlin said.

“Good. I need a wife and she is a beauty. Let us see what arrangement we can come to,” Ivan said and took two steps up the stairs before Newlin’s response halted him.

“Flora is already spoken for, my lord.”

Cree did not need to hear who. He realized now why Torin had rushed behind Newlin and whispered to him.

“Whoever it is, I can make a more beneficial offer,” Ivan said confidently.

“The arrangement is final. Flora is to be my wife,” Torin said.

“No arrangement is ever final,” Ivan said with a glare at Torin. “I go to hunt an area for the demon which I am sure you failed to cover. Wait upon my return and I will make a far more generous offer than Lord Torin for Flora.” He did not wait for a reply, he hurried up the stairs fast for a man of his bulk.

Torin turned to Newlin ready to argue.

Newlin’s hand was already up to stop any protest. “Your offer stands. Besides, I would never allow such a union. Ivan is not a kind man.”

“Then it might be wise if Flora and I wed before his return,” Torin said.

“We will see,” Newlin said and hurried up the stairs. Right now, I want to see Ivan off and then find out what happened down here.”

Torin grinned at Cree. “I believe I know.”

Newlin called down having neared the top of the stairs, “I believe I do as well.”


Tags: Donna Fletcher Romance