Shield's Lady

long.”
    “No man has ever asked me to have an affair with him.” Her words trembled in the air between them. “I’m not sure I want one. Not now. Not with someone I hardly know…”
    He dared not tell her that what he was asking involved far more than a short-term arrangement. She would almost certainly panic if he did. But it was possible he could convince her to enter into what she thought would be a brief affair. She was a young woman of passion, although she did not yet fully comprehend that. She was far from the constraints of home and she found herself alone and lonely in a foreign land. The thought of having an affair might be very tempting to her.
    “ I told you earlier that you are not the only one who is familiar with loneliness,” he reminded her softly.
    She nodded slowly. “The Avylyns explained that the Shields number very few and that most of you walk alone for the most part. You live on the fringes of society.”
    “ In a sense you and I are both strangers in this land.”
    Her small fingers closed around his wrist. “Is it very difficult for you, Gryph? Being a Shield, I mean?”
    “No more difficult than your chosen exile is for you.”
    A wealth of gentle sympathy was mirrored in her eyes. “ I think I understand.”
    “Thank you, Sariana.” He brushed her mouth once more and then he made himself release her.
    Without a word he turned and walked to the door. But just as he was about to leave he looked back over his shoulder. She was standing where he had left her beside the golden cage, her eyes full of aching, unasked questions.
    “Time,” Gryph said distinctly. “I can grant you a little time. The luck of the night to you, Sariana.” He stepped outside into the hall and shut the door firmly behind him.
    Halfway down the corridor to his room he remembered the crushed flower in the pocket of his jacket. He removed it and stared at the broken petals for a moment.
    Then Gryph smiled to himself and tossed the flower into a nearby trash receptacle discreetly disguised as a vase.
    The nice thing about dealing with Sariana was knowing that she was not weak and fragile like that flower. She would not get crushed if the wooing got a little rough.
    The lady was a potential Shieldmate and such women were not fluffy, delicate or weak, in spite of their outward appearances. He would give her time because that was the courteous thing to do and he was, after all, a lord of a Prime Family. He could do the gentlemanly thing when it was required. Besides, he wanted to impress Sariana with his proud manners.
    But in the end, whether he used the courteous approach or some more direct means, Sariana would belong to him. The decision had been made.

Chapter
    5

    THE message from Brinton arrived the night of the Avylyns’ costume ball.
    It couldn’t have come at a more inopportune time as far as Gryph was concerned. He’d had plans for the evening. Plans that revolved around showing Sariana he knew how to conduct himself on a dance floor.
    But instead of gliding around a ballroom with Sariana in his arms, Gryph moved soundlessly through the dank, twisted streets of Serendipity’s lower quarters. He was headed toward the rendezvous point and enroute he brooded about his annoyingly bad luck. Brinton might be an excellent source of information in certain subjects, but his timing could be miserable.
    Dancing with Sariana and showing off his best manners hadn’t been Gryph’s only goal for the evening. He’d also wanted to get a good look at Etion Rakken. He was curious about his competition.
    Instead, here he was wandering through garbage strewn alleys dressed in a new shirt of black linen, his boots polished until they gleamed, his gray jacket and trousers perfectly pressed. There hadn’t even been time to change his clothes. The message that had arrived at one of the Avylyns’ back doors a short time ago had been carried by a small, grimy, barefooted boy. It had been terse and cryptic.
    Gryph had sensed the urgency behind it at once. Brinton was an old hand at this kind of thing. He wouldn’t panic easily. His uncanny nose for underground gossip must have turned up something very interesting.
    Gryph made his way unobtrusively along a back street the town council considered so unimportant it had decided not to waste money illuminating it with vapor lamps. There wasn’t even much moonlight tonight. The roiling clouds of another summer storm were quickly obscuring the night sky.
    If Brinton was