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his hands tighten on her arms. Yet she could not stop her hysterical reaction to his words. She would inherit Oxwich—a woman unworthy of such an inheritance? Hadn’t her father deplored just such a possibility? Hadn’t he made her mother’s life a hell on earth and driven her to desperation in his demands for a more fitting heir—a son? Her saintly mother had sinned against her church and her God when she had made that profane leap to her death. Though the priests had deemed it an accident and buried her as was proper, Joanna had always known the truth. Her father had accused her mother of some inexplicable shortcomings, but Joanna knew those were not her mother’s great failing. Her mother’s true sin had been to take her life—and to abandon a child who had needed her so much. And now her father’s cruelty was proven all for naught, for the daughter he’d judged so unfitting was to gain Oxwich after all. Only she didn’t want it.
    Tears stung her eyes anew as she drew a shaky breath. On her face was a grim parody of a smile. “Forgive me sir, I am … I am taken aback.”
    “So it would seem,” he remarked coolly. “Laughter was hardly the reaction I expected from such sad news.”
    Joanna jerked out of his grasp as if he had struck her. “You do not understand—” Then she broke off, unwilling to share any of her pain with this stranger and unable, in any case, to give words to her feelings. “Thank you for the diligent execution of your duty, Lord Blaecston. As I said, however, I should now like to be alone.” She stared at him aloofly. “Unless, of course, there’s something else.”
    Joanna did not flinch beneath the hard stare he gave her. But at that moment her original assessment of him was reinforced. Although he had comforted her in her first shocked reaction to his news, there was no trace of kindness on his face now.
    His brow was wide, his face lean with a straight, proud nose. He would be a handsome man, the aberrant thought came to her, if he would smile. But his expression was fierce now, and it made his strong face harsh and an already intimidating demeanor menacing. In the deep shadows cast by the cedars he was tall, dark, and intense. Not a man easily dismissed.
    Then his gaze flicked over her once more with that impudent awareness she’d sensed so briefly in Sister Edithe’s chamber, and her caution wavered under her instinctive outrage at his intentional rudeness. Before she could respond with an appropriately cutting remark, his lips curved up in a taunting smile.
    “Never may it be said that I kept a troubled soul from her prayers. When you are ready to depart for Oxwich I am at your service. However, we must leave no later than the day after tomorrow.”
    “Depart for Oxwich!” Joanna stared at him as if he were quite mad. Then her expression became bitter. “I have no intention of returning to Oxwich Castle.” She lifted her chin and stared at him, conscious of the enormous sense of relief that simple statement gave her.
    “I’ll never return there,” she added as she purposefully shed the last of her ties to her old home. “If you came here with the thought to return me to my father’s house, I thank you for the kindness you intended. But it is my plan to take up the veil. My father’s death and that of his heir do not change that whatsoever.”
    It was his turn to stare at her dumbfounded, and Joanna’s mouth lifted in a faint smile. “I know this is not what you expected, Lord Blaecston. No doubt you thought to find me eager to return to Oxwich. To be mistress there.” She shrugged, then took a deep breath. “I do not know who should be next in line. There must be a cousin or … or someone. And even if there is not, the king will undoubtedly have someone deserving of such a grant.”
    It was her final words that brought Lord Blaecston from his silence. But though his words were cool and reserved, she sensed that she had somehow angered him greatly.
    “I