Lair of the Lion

somehow put the widow in danger by supplying her with a bitter, reluctant escort. Shivering uncontrollably, she hastily snuffed out the remainder of the lights, with the exception of a lantern she needed to see her way back to the castello.
    Through the open door she could see mist covering the ground. The fog was thick and swirled like a gray-white shroud in the darkness. "Just what I need," she muttered aloud, feeling in her pocket for the key to the storehouse door. It wasn't there.
    She held the lantern high, looking around the floor, trying to locate the exact spot where the younger servant had bumped into her. The key must have slipped from her skirt when he sent her stumbling backward.
    A torrent of expletives exploded from the doorway, hate-filled and frightening. Isabella's heart jumped, and she swung around to see the young servant, his face twisted with malice, swinging the heavy door closed.
    "No!" Isabella rushed toward him, her heart pounding with fear. The door clanged shut solidly, cutting her off from the outside world, imprisoning her within the huge storage room with no heat and no cloak.

Chapter Seventeen
    Carefully setting the lantern on the floor, Isabella tried to push the heavy door open. It was locked, the mystery of the missing key solved. The servant must have been adept at picking pockets and had cleverly extracted it when he slammed into her. She stood very still, shivering in the cold air, aware of how wet her shoes were. Her toes were freezing. She rested her head against the door, closing her eyes briefly in dismay. The light from the lantern cast a dim circle around her but didn't extend more than a scant few inches beyond the hemline of her gown.
    She was afraid to move deeper into the storage house. She wanted to be able to shout for help should she hear anyone nearby. The cold had crept into her bones, and she was unable to stop her helpless shivering. Rubbing her hands up and down her arms generated the illusion of warmth but little else. She stomped her feet, paced back and forth, and pumped her arms, but her toes were so cold she thought they might shatter.
    Isabella refused to entertain the idea that she might freeze to death. Nicolai would come looking for her. The moment he found her brother with Francesca, the moment he saw her bed empty, he would turn the hold upside down looking for her, and he would find her. She held that knowledge close to her.
    Deliberately she avoided looking into the black, empty maw of the darkened building. It had taken on a disturbing feel, as if hundreds of eyes stared at her from the shadowed interior. Each time her gaze was inadvertently pulled in that direction, shadows moved alarmingly, and she looked away. Only silence stretched endlessly before her. She detested the lack of sound, far too aware of her teeth chattering and how alone she was.
    A whisper of movement caught her attention, and her heart stilled. She turned to peer into the darkness. The noise came again. A scurry of tiny feet. Her heart began to pound out a rhythm of terror. She inched her hand toward the lantern. When her fingers closed around it, she lifted the light higher, hoping to cast the circle of illumination wider.
    She saw them then, a flash of furry bodies running along the shelves. Her entire body shuddered in horror. She detested rats. She could see their beady eyes staring at her. The rats should have turned away from the lantern, but they continued running toward her.
    She realized they were agitated, dashing away from a predator. As terrified as she was of rats, whatever was scaring them frightened her even more. The rats rushed around her feet, scuttling toward a hole she couldn't see. She cried out as she felt them brush against her shoes, her ankles, in their hasty exodus. Isabella clutched the lantern and stared into the cavernous interior, trying to pierce the veil of darkness to see what had sent the rats dashing for safety.
    Only then did it occur to her. As much as she detested rats, with grain and food items in the storage house, she had seen only a handful of them. There should have been many, many more. Where were they? She raised the light higher, her mouth dry with fear. Why weren't there more rats and mice? Where could they all be? And what had frightened them more than her lantern, more than a human?
    A cat yowled. A high-pitched scream like that of a woman in terror. Another cat answered it. Then another. So many that Isabella feared the