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An Excerpt From: KISS OF THE WIND
 Copyright CHARLOTTE BOYETT-COMPO, 2008.
All Rights Reserved, Ellora's Cave
The room to which he led her was lined floor to ceiling with thousands of books in ornate shelves that stretched from one wall to another, their expanse broken only by the doorway and an enormous fireplace in which flames danced and a huge log popped. Candelabras stood on a few of the tables and should have given the room a cheery glow but the atmosphere was so oppressive, so cumbersome it was hard to find comfort in the plush surroundings. An intricately carved mahogany desk sat off to one side, the top covered with various stacks of papers. Deep shadows lurked in the corners where the candlelight did not reach to give the room an intimidating feel. Before a wide bank of windows, two large chairs sat facing the view—dark now with the blackness of night—with a small bronze-topped table placed between the chairs.
“His Grace will join you shortly,” the servant said. “Would you like a cup of tea to chase away the chill?”
“No, thank you,” Aideyn said. As nervous as she felt her stomach to be, she was afraid putting anything in it would lead to disaster.
“Please, sit where you would like, then. If you need anything, the bell pull is there beside the hearth. I will come at once.” He turned to go.
“May I ask your name?” she called out to him.
The servant turned and bowed elegantly to her. “I am Conreeaght, milady.”
She forced a smile to her lips. “It is a pleasure to meet you, Conreeaght.”
As though unaccustomed to being told such a thing, the servant blinked, his eyebrows shooting up into the sparse black hair that barely covered his head. His lips twitched and he inclined his head. “The honor is entirely mine, milady, I assure you,” he said. “Entirely mine.”
With that said, he melded silently into the shadows of the hallway beyond. After standing where he’d left her for several moments, Aideyn finally surveyed the room and chose a comfortably looking chair near the fireplace. She was cold and longed to stand in front of the roaring fire with her back to the heat, her skirts hiked up to warm her backside but such a thing was unseemly. Instead, she sat down in the chair—nearly groaning with the lushness that reached up to envelope her—and crossed her legs at the ankle, her hands placed demurely in her lap, her shoulders back and head high.
She would never know how long she sat there waiting for her host to arrive but when the uneasy feeling came to her that she was not alone, she surreptitiously turned her head to survey the room, searching for the source of the nervousness that had suddenly gripped her. On the first pass, her gaze found nothing out of the ordinary but as she swung her attention back the other way, she caught sight of a deeper shadow in one corner and realized someone was sitting there, unmoving, partially hidden in the darkness. She stopped breathing and stared, instinctively knowing who was observing her and wondering how long he had been doing so.
“You had an uneventful journey, bwoirrinagh?” a soft, sensuous voice inquired.
Aideyn’s heart thudded hard against her ribcage. The word he had used was antiquated. She knew well what it meant—lass—for she had seen it written in the histories of her village. She cleared her throat. “Aye, Your Grace. I did.”
“It is such a brutal night on which to make a journey to Carrick Ard. I would have had it been a calmer night for your trip to my home.”
She did not know what to say to that. Any night would be a bad night to come to this remote place but she knew she dared not tell him so. Clenching her fingers tightly in her lap, she waited for him to either rise or come to her or for him to bid her join him.
He did none of those things.
“How many have died in your village since the plague first struck?” he asked.
“Fifteen, Your Grace,” she replied and heard a heavy sigh come from her host.
“I am saddened to hear the number of deaths was so high but there will be no more,” he told her. “I will tell you that your mother is feeling much better and is taking sustenance even as we speak. She will experience a full recovery. I would not suffer her to pine away for fear of your safety so I have sent her calming thoughts to let her know you are in good hands. I will visit her dreams this night and reassure her even more.”
Aideyn breathed a sigh of relief and slowly closed her eyes to the news. His thoughtfulness eased her mind on many levels.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I am very appreciative of your efforts. ”
There was a heaviness to his voice that touched her when he spoke again.
“I did not realize the plague had returned. Had I known, I would have acted sooner.”
“We are grateful for your protection, Your Grace,” she said, remembering what the Elders had bid her say to him. “We owe our lives to you.”
“You owe your troubles to me, as well,” he said. “I am the reason for them.”
She could not dispute the matter for everyone knew the Storm Lord had been cursed centuries before and such losses were his atonement for whatever sin he had committed in the long ago. From time to time his people were made to pay the price for that transgression. It wasn’t fair but then again the Fates had never been fair to the villagers.
“It was never my intention a lottery ever be held again,” he said and got to his feet. Still hidden in the deeper shadows, he turned to leave. “I ask your pardon that you were forced to come to this barren keep, Aideyn Bennett.”
“Then may I return to the village, Your Grace?” she questioned.
He stopped but did not turn to face her. There was no hesitation in his words as he replied, “No, bwoirrinagh. You are here now and here you will stay for as long as you live.”
Aideyn’s shoulders sagged and any hope she might have been harboring that he would allow her to leave was dashed completely. “I understand, Your Grace.”
“Your young man will return to the village in good health,” he said.
“Niall?” she said, tears filling her eyes. Their marriage had been arranged at their births by their parents and though she did not love her betrothed as a woman does a man she had feelings for him as a brother. To learn he would come home safely from the war was a great relief.
“He will Join with your friend, Teagan, and they will have many robust children.” He cleared his throat. “One they will name after you.”
She knew the Prince Regent of the Winds could see into the future and the future he was predicting made her heart glad. “They have always loved one another,” she said. “I am happy to know they will wed.” She wiped at a tear that ran carelessly down her cheek. “I was worried…”
“There is no need for you to ever worry again, bwoirrinagh,” he interrupted her. “You are safe here. No harm will ever befall you within these walls.”
She took another step toward him but when he stiffened at her approach, she stilled. “Is there anything you would like to ask me, Your Grace?”
“I know all there is to know of you, Aideyn,” he said softly. “I could not have asked for a woman more suited to be the Teiyt.”
“That is very generous of you to say, Your Grace,” she said, lowering her head beneath a dark blush.
“It is the truth. Now, it grows late and I know your journey here was tiring. Conreeaght will show you to your room. May your rest be without dreams.”
When she looked up, he was gone.
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