Free Something In Red (Fancytales Regency Romance Series) by Leighann Dobbs

Chapter One
     
    “Good evening, Red,” the gentleman offered with a shallow dip of his chin and a quick wink – only after he had forcefully stopped her carriage, arrogantly joined her inside without an invitation, and then comfortably settled himself against the squabs opposite her in the conveyance.
    Despite his having called her red , a gross mispronunciation of her true name and more likely a nod to the color of her cape rather than any intended insult, Rhiad felt fairly certain the gentleman who had stolen into her carriage could not possibly know her identity.
    She certainly knew nothing of his.
    From behind the safety of her mask, Rhiad studied him curiously. He had dark hair. A rather pleasing profile, too, she admitted. He must be possessed of a lean, agile body as well, if his ease in hoisting himself up into the carriage without the aid of steps were anything to go by.
    Her head screamed warnings of imminent danger, yet she knew her only escape lay in braving the dark forest beyond the carriage. Alone.
    Feeling slightly overwhelmed and greatly under-amused, Rhiad pushed back against the heavily padded seat, immediately grateful for the hood of her thick, red velvet cloak which shielded her face and hid most of her features. Darkness and the red, gold, and black feathered mask she wore took care of the rest.
    Given those choices, she quickly decided of all the evils she might face outside, staying put inside the carriage with this bold and intriguing stranger would likely remain her safest recourse.
    Her heart thumped against her ribs, but she dare not show him any sign of weakness or fear. “Who are you, sir, and how dare you overtake my carriage?”
    She had intended the words to be a disdainful demand, and had uttered it in the most haughty tone she could manage at the moment, yet her voice still trembled, betraying her nervousness.
    The fellow had the audacity to chuckle.
    “There is to be a ball this evening, my dear, and I simply must attend,” he offered by way of explanation.
    Her grandmother's ball? Rhiad had seen the guest list, more than once, and yet still could not fathom his identity. She continued to peer at him across the way, her gaze taking in his dark attire. Considering he was dressed as befitted a man of stature were he indeed bent upon partaking of the night's festivities, she decided she must grant him the benefit of a doubt.
    Black suited him, she thought, her gaze taking in the elegant, tailored cut of his evening clothes. Yet he had the most unusual, striking pair of eyes she had ever seen. An unnatural shade of green, they seemed to glow with a feral inner light.
    “You have not yet given me your name,” she reminded him. Were he intent upon doing her harm, she would at least have a name to put to the sorry, carriage encroaching miscreant. If she survived...
    “Proposing so soon, my sweet?”
    She gasped at the indelicacy of his response, and he chuckled yet again.
    Finally, he relented. “Wolfe.”
    Despite the seriousness of the moment, his answer brought an unbidden twitch to her lips. Impossible , Rhiad thought. But rather than dwell upon or call attention to the sudden, growing absurdity of the moment, she merely said, “ Wolfe? How fitting. You certainly do resemble a wild, dangerous animal with your dark, windswept hair and ferocious eyes.”
    His brows danced upward and then down once, twice, thrice, and his mischievous grin made those brilliant green eyes of his glow ever more brightly despite the low light of the carriage lamp.
    “The better to see you with, my dear,” he teased, though she felt sure the full measure of the taunt had been, for him, unknown.
    Rhiad fought to stifle the hysterical fit of giggles bubbling up in her throat, giggles which had both everything and nothing to do with his quip while at the same time, she blinked back tears of complete and utter humiliation.
    Oh, how she hated both her parents and one Mr. Charles Perrault at the moment, she