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He travels only at night, shrouded by darkness, his visage shielded by a leather mask. After 11 years, Galen Tarrant, Lord of Rosenthorn, rides back from the Crusades to reclaim his lands, only to stumble upon the most beautiful creature he has ever seen. In her arms he feels complete, but cannot allow himself to take her innocence when the demons of his past threaten to destroy everything he touches.
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"I" Dear God, stay away! his mind screamed. Come closer, his soul pleaded. I should not have come here. You should not be alone with me."
"Will you hurt me?"
"For pity's sake," he rasped, "come no closer."
But she was already too close. He felt the feather-light touch of her hand upon his arm. Galen whirled away, pulling his cowl forward. He heard her swallow and take a breath.
"Did I so anger you with my foolishness that you cannot even bear to look at me?"
His arm jerked under her hand. His throat tightened. "Nay."
"Then why do you turn away? What is it?" Her fingers caressed his arm, and she laid her other hand at the center of his back. Such a gentle touch, yet it rocked Galen like. a blow. "Tell me. I only"
Galen twisted and caught her by the shoulders, so swift and sudden she had no chance to elude him. He pulled her deeper into the shadows, where no gleam of moonlight could betray him. Both her wrists fit within one of his hands. The fingers of his other traced the curve of her jaw and tilted her chin as he pressed her against the wall.
Her mouth felt soft and pliant under his, and Galen drank the sounds she made like a man dying of thirst. After but a moment's protest, her lips moved in a tentative response, her sounds were no longer frightened, and she quivered in delight.
Page 3
The Mask
Donna Lee Poff
Page 4
To Dad, who told me to keep trying. And in memory of Mom, who knew I wanted to.
A LEISURE BOOK
August 1998
Published by
Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc. 276 Fifth Avenue New York, NY 10001
If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the publisher and neither the author nor the publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."
Copyright 1998 by Donna Let Poff
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law.
ISBN 0-8439-4416-1
The name "Leisure Books" and the stylized "L" with design are trademarks of Dorchester Publishing Co., Inc.
Printed in the United States of America.
Page 5
"Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their labor. For if they fall, one will lift up his companion. But woe to him who is alone when he falls, for he has no one to help him up. Again, if two lie down together, they will keep warm; But how can one be warm alone? Though one may be overpowered by another, Two can withstand him...." Ecclesiastes 4: 912
Page 9
Chapter One
EnglandJuly 1201
His journey had ended, but the wanderer felt neither joy nor relief. Futility hung upon him like a cloak of lead.
Far had he traveled and for many years.
But all he had achieved was to return to where he began.
Uneasiness slithered down his spine as he came upon the village. Eleven years had passed, but Thornbury appeared little changed, as if it were a spellbound hamlet awaiting its enchanted lord's return.
Tethering his horse, Galen Tarrant, Lord of Rosethorn, gave a bitter smile. Thornbury might well have been spellbound, but he was far from enchanted.
Cursed, some called him.
Galen eluded the moonlight's silvery grasp as it crept across the lane. Nary a sound did he make. Not even the air stirred about him as he blended into the shadows of the sleeping village. Only a cat, curled upon a gatepost, marked his presence with eyes that glimmered an eerie green.
Galen scratched under the animal's chin, and with a mew of feline approval, the cat resettled upon the more comfort-
Page 10
able perch of his proffered arm. Stroking its mottled pelt of black and gray, Galen felt a strange kinship with the creature. Like the cat, he prowled only at night.
With his new companion ensconced in the crook of his arm, Galen wandered further into the village. A second look revealed changes which at first he had missed. Few were heartening. The thatch of some cottage roofs sagged. Shutters hung askew on others. On most, the wattle-and-daub walls showed long neglect. A few of the cottages even looked deserted. And the livestockGalen scowled. Where was the livestock? Most villagers kept a pig or perhaps a goat. There should be oxen dozing in the broken-down stable, sheep bedded in their pens. He found a few ragged beasts, but they were but a shadow of what had once existed.
What evils had Thornbury suffered?
Galen turned his gaze north, beyond the village. Dark and desolate against the star-pocked sky, the towers of Rosethorn Castle, rose above the trees, mocking him.
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