The Master of Phoenix Hall by Jennifer Wilde Page B

up. My head was going round and round in circles. I felt a hand on my wrist, pulling me to my feet. I saw dark black eyes, burning with anger, and I had an impression of the face. My eyes were not focusing, and my head seemed to go round faster and faster. I felt my feet firmly on the ground and I tried to say something. Then everything began to swim and I fell forward. I felt the strong arms catch me up, holding me tightly, and then the black wings in my head fluttered, closing in, and I knew nothing.
    I was first aware of the smell, sharp but not unpleasant, tantalizing my nostrils. The layers of black lifted slowly, turned gray, and then my eyelids fluttered and I seemed to see everything through a hazy fog. There was a dull ache at the back of my head, and my arms hurt where the fingers had gripped them so tightly. The room I was in was strange and I blinked my eyes, trying to get rid of the fog. My whole body felt heavy and the dull pain grew worse as I tried to sit up.
    The room was dimly lighted, the heavy rose curtains drawn to, the sunlight coming through weakly. I was on a small sofa of rose velvet and there were several cushions under my head. I saw the walls papered with embossed gray material, and the rich old carpet of some crimson colored plush that had begun to fade. The furnishings were elegant and very old, candles in ornate old gold candelabra, chests of dark brown wood, highly varnished, a fading tapestry of peacock blue and green hanging on one wall, depicting some Medieval scene. I tried to sit up but the pain was fierce. I fell back with a little groan and blackness enveloped me again.
    It was much later when I awoke for the second time. The light was dimmer, darkly gold, indicating late afternoon. Some of the pain was gone, and the fog had vanished. There was a box of smelling salts on the table beside the sofa, and a cut glass decanter of brandy with two glasses on a heavy silver tray. The man was standing at the window. He had his back to me, and I saw his powerful shoulders encased in expensive black broadcloth. He was very tall, very straight, with long, well turned legs and thin hips molded in the same black broadcloth as his jacket. One large brown hand held the draperies back and the other was curled around the handle of the whip. The long black lash coiled on the crimson carpet like a serpent.
    I sat up with a slight groan, supporting the side of my head with one palm, and the man turned around. We stared at each other for a moment, our eyes locked. I felt a shiver of fear rush through me as he carefully rolled the whip up, his eyes never leaving mine. He laid the whip on a side table and smiled, the corners of his lips turning up ever so slightly.
    â€œAre you feeling better?” he asked.
    â€œI—I think so.”
    â€œI don’t think you were really hurt. You’ve had a hard knock on the back of your head—nothing more serious. No, don’t try and get up just yet. Rest there for a while.”
    â€œWhere am I?”
    â€œYou’re in the parlor of Phoenix Hall.”
    â€œAnd you are—”
    â€œRoderick Mellory, at your service.”
    He made a little mock bow, his dark black eyes burning with malice. That strange smile still hovered on his lips. He seemed to be enjoying my predicament. I still felt very weak. I rested on the cushions and closed my eyes for a moment. When I opened them the Master of Phoenix Hall was still staring at me. I felt uneasy. I wished those eyes would stop burning so fiercely as they examined me. Roderick Mellory came over to the table and poured a glass of brandy.
    â€œTake this, Miss Todd,” he said.
    â€œYou know my name?”
    â€œI know everything there is to know about you, Miss Todd.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œExactly what I said. I know everything about everyone who lives on my estate. That includes you.”
    â€œDower House is mine. It isn’t part of Phoenix Hall.”
    â€œTo