thought of all the strange rumors she had heard about him, about his peculiar habits. Since returning home, she had overheard other things, stories told in hushed whispers that hinted at evil, at bargains made with the devil. Was it possible that the people of the town believed such outrageous tales? Her friends and neighbors were a humble, superstitious people, frightened of what they didn't understand, of what couldn't be easily explained.
Snuggling under the covers once more, she closed her eyes. As much as she had loved Paris, she was not going back.
This was her home. This was where she belonged, and she would not let anyone, not even the master of Castle Rayven, chase her away.
The next day was market day. With her mother's list in hand, Rhianna took the carriage Rayven had bought for her family and went into town. It was good to see familiar country faces again. Because of Rayven's generosity, she was able to purchase fresh bread, prime cuts of meat, and a bottle of fine red wine.
She was sitting in the window of a tearoom, wondering if Rayven would haunt her thoughts forever, when she saw Dallon Montroy. He saw her at the same time. Tipping his hat, he crossed the road, a broad smile on his face. He was as handsome as she recalled. Several women turned to stare at him, their gazes frankly admiring. He wore a coat of dark green broadcloth trimmed in black velvet, buff-colored breeches, and black boots. His linen was impeccable; a diamond stickpin sparkled in his cravat.
"Good afternoon, Miss McLeod." He bowed over her hand. "May I join you?"
"Please do."
"It's been a long time," Dallon said. His gaze moved over her, warm with affection and approval. "Your stay in Paris seems to have agreed with you."
"Thank you, my lord," Rhianna replied, acutely aware of the admiration in his eyes.
"I was sorry to hear about your father," Montroy said. "Is there anything I can do for you or your family?"
"No, thank you. Lord Rayven has been most generous."
"Indeed." Montroy sat back in his chair. "Are you returning to France soon?"
Rhianna shook her head. "No. As much as I loved Paris, I've decided to stay here. It's home, after all."
And Rayven is here.
A slow smile spread over Montroy's face. "That's good news indeed," he said. "There's a new play at the theater. I'd like very much to take you."
"Would you?"
Montroy chuckled softly. "If you'd like to go. And if you think you could tolerate my company for the evening."
"I should like that very much indeed," Rhianna replied. In truth, it would be no hardship to spend time with Montroy. With his dark blond hair and blue eyes, he was quite the most blatantly handsome man she had ever met, and she had met many during the last four years.
"Good. I shall pick you up Saturday at six."
"I'll be ready."
"Very well." Rising to his feet, he took her hand in his. "I hate to leave you, but I have a business appointment." He kissed her hand. "Till Saturday next, Miss McLeod.".
"Till Saturday."
Montroy arrived at six o'clock sharp. Rhianna grinned openly as she introduced him to her sisters. One and all, they stared at him, hardly able to speak coherently as he bowed over their hands.
Even her mother seemed awestruck.
"I'm sorry about my family," Rhianna remarked later, in the carriage. "They've never met anyone quite like you. My youngest sister asked me if you were a prince."
"And what did you tell her?"
"Why, I said you were, of course."
Dallon laughed softly as he took her hand in his and gave it a squeeze. "Hardly that."
For a time, they rode in silence. Montroy studied the girl beside him. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. Four years at school had refined her, given her an aura of self-confidence that she had lacked before. It occurred to him that it was past time for him to marry and father an heir.
He thought of little else during the play. None of the ladies he knew could hold a candle to the young woman sitting beside him. True, she came from a poor family, but he was a wealthy man and the fact that she had no dowry mattered not at all. There was only one drawback that he could see, and that was the fact that everyone in the valley knew Rhianna's father had sold her to Rayven, that she had lived in his house. Dallon didn't care a whit what the people of