The Lady Who Left

III. The League of Founders

"You will not take back your word, will you?"

It was not her question that intrigued Calan so, but the way she said it. It sounded desperate, telling him she was that determined to go through with it, and for a second, he doubted his decision. Now that he had given his word to help her, he could not very well take it back. But looking at Lady Cressida Belverst standing there in her blue satin gown, a strand of her hair dangling beside her face, her light brown eyes almost black in the darkness, Calan could not help but wonder how she would survive the world outside the Town.

She may be unconventional herewith her outspoken mind and uncaring attitude toward her reckless actions, but she had always survived because she was privileged. However, out there, she could very well be a danger to herself. Stripped of her lavish gowns and her parent's riches, even Calan was uncertain of what awaited her aboveground. He may have an idea, but that did not mean he knew how people would treat her there.

Up there, she would be utterly alone to fend for herself.

Alone.

Good God!

How would she fare alone out there with no maids to do her bidding, no status for protection?

Make up your mind, you bloody idiot, a voice whispered to him.

"Calan." Hearing his name from her lips snapped him back to his senses. "How do you plan to help me escape?"

Escape. Was that how she would call it? Was the Town a prison for her?

"Do you know of a way? I'm certain there's a way somehow. How else had the Founders gotten here in the first place? How else could they have built those walls outside the holes? There must be a way out. Given time, we can do our research and I'll be out of here before the wedding."

He was not quite hearing her then because he was too transfixed on her lips as they moved. Why had he not noticed those before? Had they always been flushed with color?

She had now walked back to stand before him, her eyes curious and excited. "Calan. Easton!" she called out again, her voice tinged with impatience now.

Finally, Calan tore his eyes from her lips and blinked to gaze directly into her eyes. That must have been a mistake as well because he almost—almost—made a grab for her shoulders and it was not very difficult to imagine pulling her toward him and learn if her lips felt as good as they looked...

He shook his head once, removing the vision from his mind.

He could have other women that would take only what he could offer. He did not have to ruin this one.

But her very presence, standing too close before him, opened him to surprising realizations. He had seen her in her best ball gowns, seen her in rare occasions with better lighting, and yet it was the first he acknowledged she was a woman, one who had the potential to make his blood boil with desire if that was not yet happening now.

She was a danger to him, he realized. Lady Cressida was no longer the girl he pushed into a pond. He could not deny it any more than he wanted to maintain the image of a spoiled, careless girl in his mind.

Mayhap the Town would be better off not having Lady Cressida Belverst in it. The Town Herald could very well do with more pages of something more interesting than her recent scandals.

She was narrowing her eyes at him now, her face full of doubt. "You are not considering marrying me, are you, my lord?"

Calan held back his answer, for she would not like it at all.