Free Beguiled by Shannon Drake Page A

men stand together,” she murmured.
    He smiled, then looked grave. “I heard you were accosted by that monster, the highwayman.”
    â€œI’m quite all right.”
    â€œWould that I had been there,” he said, sounding angry. “Someone needs to skewer that fellow through.”
    â€œThank you. I am fairly capable, however.”
    He shook his head and said softly, “You underestimate your beauty and your allure, my dear, and the wickedness in the minds of some men. I tell you now—and I say this passionately, and even knowing that you have strong guardians—if you are ever in need of assistance, I would be there willingly.”
    He was very good-looking, with rich brown hair and topaz eyes. Strong, tall, not heavily muscled, but still…she could feel the steely power in his hold.
    She smiled, inclining her head. “Thank you.”
    â€œSo…what is the mysterious announcement to be made tonight?” he asked.
    She didn’t get a chance to tell him that she didn’t know herself, for, as if aware that he had just been discussed, Sir Angus Cunningham was the next to cut in.
    For such a large man, he danced very well. His voice was gruff when he said, “My dear sweet lass, I am ashamed by what befell you. As sheriff of the village and the surrounding forests, I failed you. Forgive me.”
    â€œAngus!” She had known him since she’d been quite young. “You had your hands full this morning. The highwayman is no real threat. An ugly mob is. ”
    â€œYou saw that,” he murmured.
    â€œAnd I was very proud of you—you and Lord Witt-burg and Sir Harrington. You quelled that crowd quite nicely.”
    Angus glanced across the room, his expression brooding. “Yes, well…Thane Grier was there, as well. We’ll see what rubbish he puts in the paper tomorrow. Of course tomorrow may well be worse…another murder, perhaps.” He seemed to catch himself. “Forgive me. We’ll not speak of it tonight.”
    â€œIt is of dire importance,” she said softly. Then, her mind suddenly taking a new direction, she frowned.
    She had noticed several women there that night in black. Since Queen Victoria had mourned her dear Albert for so long, wearing black had become a trend. Even now, women wore black long after losing someone beloved. There was nothing odd about seeing a woman in black.
    And yet…
    Staring past Sir Angus’s massive shoulder, she caught sight of someone who gave her pause. She didn’t know why, but she was suddenly reminded of the woman in the village who had been crying out against the queen.
    â€œSir Angus?” she said suddenly.
    â€œWhat, dear?”
    â€œWho was that woman this morning?”
    â€œWhat woman?”
    â€œIn the crowd, shouting so angrily about the monarchy.”
    â€œWho wasn’t shouting angrily?” he asked rhetorically. “I swear, someone riled up that crowd. There were placards everywhere. Our citizens are normally peaceful and law-abiding, other than that wretched highwayman. Though I believe he hails from London and merely uses my roads for his despicable deeds.”
    â€œThere was one woman in particular, don’t you remember? She was next to Sir Andrew’s cousin, who was trying to calm her, I believe.”
    He opened his mouth to reply, but again the dance was halted. This time it was Lord Joseph Farrow, Earl of Warren, cutting in. Angus relinquished his position.
    â€œYou dance beautifully,” the earl informed her.
    â€œThank you.”
    â€œI understand that you also have the voice of a lark and play the piano beautifully.”
    She smiled. “I play the piano—whether beautifully or not is in the ears of those who are listening.”
    â€œI am well pleased,” he murmured, his eyes bright, and he seemed amused.
    She smiled, wondering whether or not it mattered if he was or wasn’t pleased.
    The music