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murder.
    “I’m not.” Desperately she tried to infuse her voice with conviction. In an effort to persuade him further, she added eagerly, “Our gardener sleeps there sometimes. There’s a cot, with blankets. And I could get you some food.”
    He groaned, and his eyes closed. “I haven’t eaten in three days,” he admitted under his breath. Then his eyes popped open to stare at her warily. “You know that I’ll hang if I’m caught?”
    Amanda returned his look just as warily. Then she nodded.
    “Then you know that I don’t have anything to lose if I kill you. And if you cross me …” His voice trailed off, but his eyes spoke for him. Amanda shivered. If she crossed him, he would kill her. Did she dare even to try? Looking into those silvery eyes that glittered so coldly back at her, she knew she had no choice. Even if she did everything he said, he would kill her eventually. She had to take the first chance of escape that presented itself, no matter what the risk.
    “Is that understood?” He meant to have an answer. Amanda looked at him and nodded jerkily. She prayed that he wouldn’t read her intentions in her eyes.
    “Then I’ll ask you again, and I want the truth: is there some place up there at that convent of yours where I can rest—without being found?”
    For a barely perceptible instant Amanda hesitated, thinking of the nuns and the other girls—people she had grown to care for—who were sleeping so peacefully in their beds. What guarantee did she have that he couldn’t somehow manage to kill everyone who came to her aid? After all, he had had some experience in mass murder. But then she thought of the path up the cliffs. It would be almost impossible for him to make the climb in his present condition; surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to get away from him on the steep, narrow path …
    “Yes.” She was proud of herself. This time her voice was just right: steady and confident.
    “Good. Then you can help me to stand up. And remember what I told you: I don’t have anything to lose.” This last was growled so menacingly that Amanda shrank back.
    “I-I’ll remember.” At the moment she didn’t think it would be possible ever to think of anything else. Sheer fright was causing her hands to shake almost as much as his were. Why did she never do as she was bid? If she had listened to the sisters, she would be safely tucked up in her bed now, not trapped in a living nightmare with a man who could easily take it into his head to kill her at any minute.
    “Are you asleep?” There was a note of exasperation in that gravelly voice. “I told you to help me up.”
    Thus adjured, Amanda made a hasty, abortive attempt to get to her feet, only to be brought up short with a whimper of pain as a sudden, sharp agony shot through the part of her scalp that was attached to the hank of hair wrapped around his hand. Damn. She had forgotten just for an instant that he still had a grip on her hair.
    “What’s the matter?” he asked, swiveling his head so that he could look at her as she rocked back on her heels. One of her hands rubbed at her tender scalp.
    “I told you—you’re hurting me.” Her tone was resentful. Then, as a thought occurred to her, she continued carefully, “If you want me to help you, you’ll have to let go of my hair. You must see that I can’t do anything while you’re holding me like this.”
    He looked at her consideringly. Amanda returned his look, her expression as innocent as she could make it.
    “And as soon as I let go of your hair, you’ll be off like a little doe,” he said, sneering. “I told you before, I’m not stupid. You’ll just have to manage to get up and get me on my feet the best way you can. And considering the consequences if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll contrive something.”
    Amanda swallowed. He was right; considering the consequences, she would contrive something. She positioned her feet beneath her and then straightened her knees so