Ravished Read Online Free

matters.
              Turning slowly, she
surveyed the room they were in.  Gold plates, encrusted with jewels around the
outer edge lined the great mantel, two passant wolves forged into the stone as
support.  Fine tapestries, depicting the hunt and other histories hung about
the walls, woven in a fantastic array of color.  Glastonbury chairs flanked the
massive hearth, padded with cushions embroidered in scarlet and gold.  The two
other armored men lounged near the fire, having stripped some of their plate
for comfort.
              It was a room built
for leisure and to impress, and she was not immune to its charms.
              The ceiling
stretched far above them, and trophies adorned the heights of the walls. 
Riveted, she stared wide eyed at the vast multitude of antlers lining the wood
paneling in orderly rows.  The ivory of the horns was a dramatic contrast to
the rich, burgundy painted paneling, capturing her attention as effectively as
a rabbit in a snare.  Her eyes flashed on sconces decorated with bone, to a
candle beam crafted completely of horns and lighted with an abundance of
precious candles.  There were hunters here, and by the look of it, very, very
skilled hunters.  Alex’s collar shrank around her throat.
              “Who bested these
defenseless beasts?” Alex asked.
              “We did,
generations of Blackmores,” Bronson spoke from behind, coming around her.  At
her look of horror, he said, “We hunt for food.  No animal who dies, dies in
vain.”
              The door flung open
and reverberated soundly against the wall, cutting off further questions.  A
man who could only be the lord of the manor stomped inside with the gale force
of a thunderstorm.
              Alex cringed,
expecting beatings to be handed out, but Constance showed no fear in the face
of her father’s wrath.  Constance beamed at her father.  “Papa, you will be so
pleased by what has happened.”
              Her comment was
answered with a brain-rattling roar, unintelligible at best but no less fierce
for its perplexing denouement.  His cheeks flushed dark with ire, began to glow
red and darken to purple.  “What on God’s green earth do you speak of?  We have
been scouring the countryside for you!  We’d just begun preparing to assault
those devil McPhersons.  You have driven us mad with worry.”  He pulled her
into his arms for a great hug, then released her hesitantly.
              “Oh, Papa.”  With a
giggle that seemed to suggest Constance had not heard the threatening sounds
that had come from her towering father, she said, “This young gentleman, Lord
Alex Montague, rescued me.  Lord Montague, this is my father, Lord Derwin.” 
Constance’s hand wrapped protectively around Alex’s upper arm.
              Her words seemed to
dawn on him.  “Rescued you?”  came the ear-shattering reply.
              “Now you know
better, Papa.  We shan’t have you going into another apoplexy.”
              The mention of
apoplexy seemed to reign in some of his fury.  Lord Derwin looked suitably
chagrined and slightly less angry.  His circulation began to improve,
lightening his dark countenance.
              For all his
bluster, Alex could see he’d do no harm to Constance.  He cared for her--that
much was obvious in the way he held her close, in how his hands shook when he’d
talked of searching for her.  Constance was a fortunate girl to have a loving
family.
              Something told Alex
Constance was accustomed to wrapping her father around her finger.
              “I believe you have
some explaining to do, young lady,” Lord Derwin said, sounding as though
commanding great armies would be natural to him.
              Constance further
irked her father as she leaned over and whispered loudly, “Do not fret so. 
Papa really is quite