one thing." His gaze rested at the point where her shawl covered her breasts.
She lifted her chin, eyes blazing. "And will you take that from me, milord?"
He pictured it — stripping her bare and plunging into her hot wetness. His shaft started to harden. It would be his ultimate revenge. As suddenly as the thought came, it left him cold. She was a Ruthven, but she was also under his protection. "You have nothing to offer that I would want."
Yet he wasn't quite convinced of the truth in his own words as his hand met hers on the latch. He moved past her, their bodies connecting in a flash of shared heat as he opened the door and strode into the keep.
Rhiannon took a deep breath to collect herself after Lord Lockhart went inside. At the sight of his broad, muscled back, she couldn't help thinking of his suggestive comments. She was completely at the man's mercy. Yet what on earth had possessed her to admit it? After another calming breath, she went back into the castle. Although she carefully avoided looking at Lord Lockhart, she could feel his gaze tracking her across the room and up the stairs.
Inside her bedchamber, Rhiannon wilted against the wooden panels of the door. Her knees were unsteady and her heart raced. She had seen the lustful thoughts behind his eyes. She might be young and inexperienced, but that was one look she had not imagined.
She'd seen similar looks on the faces of her father's friends when they had come to visit and she'd played the role of hostess in her mother's absence. It was one of the few times she'd been allowed around other men. But these men did not want friendly conversation. Nay, their leering looks and not-so-discreet pinches had said it all.
Rhiannon shuddered at the memory. Thankfully, her father had disappeared from her life before he could use her for his own financial gain.
But Camden Lockhart … she pressed her hand to her stomach, trying to stall the fluttering that had started there. He was no aged, leering philanderer. He was a handsome, virile man.
With a groan of disgust, Rhiannon pushed away from the door. She wasn't experienced enough to handle a man like Camden Lockhart. He would chew her up and spit her out before she even knew what had happened.
With a sigh, she went to the door connecting Violet's room to her own. Violet tossed and turned on the bed, writhing as if in some sort of pain. Rhiannon hurried to Violet's side just as the little girl bolted upright in bed. A scream pierced the stillness of the night.
"Don't let him get me. Mummy, don't let him take me away," she sobbed with her eyes still tightly shut.
A nightmare.
Rhiannon sat on the bed, and her hands hovered above Violet's head. What should she do? How should she comfort her?
Violet's sobs continued. "Mummy, make him go away."
Rhiannon slowly brought her hand down to stroke the little girl's hair. "It's all right, Violet. No one will harm you while I'm here," she said softly.
The little girl pressed her body against Rhiannon's. Her sobs stopped, but waves of trembling wracked her body.
"Shh," Rhiannon cooed, continuing to stroke Violet's head until the girl's shaking had ceased and soft breathing came from her lips. She'd fallen back asleep.
Rhiannon slowly lowered the girl to the bed and once again tucked the coverlet tightly about her small body. A sense of satisfaction mixed with joy came over her at her ability to help. Perhaps the abbess had been right to send her here with Violet. As the girl slept, Rhiannon slipped off the bed, still too restless. She would care for Violet, and she'd find some way to make the child a new gown that would not remind her of the horrors she'd faced over the last several days. Violet needed a fresh beginning, and a new gown was a simple way to start her healing process.
From her adventure earlier in the dark storeroom, she knew she'd get no assistance from anyone else in the castle. One locked doorway and a few harsh names could not sway her resolve.