Fair Maiden Read Online Free PDF Page A

sighed. “This too would
be better understood if I showed you rather than tried to explain it.”
    “Oh.”
    He turned back to the tome. “Do you see anyone you know?”
    Shaking her head she wondered, Would she even recognize
them if she did? He flipped the page. Again, she shook her head.
    Christian continued like this, pausing to read, and then
gather her reaction to the portraits upon the pages. However, it seemed he grew
frustrated as this continued with no result. And so was she. “There is naught,”
she whispered, feeling hopeless.
    He shoved over another page, and another, until he’d past by
her era and then slammed it shut. As more dust tumbled into the air, he
responded, “You can’t have been from this castle. I do not understand how you
could be here if you never lived here.” His shoulders fell back into the
leather cushion with apparent frustration, and he tangled his fingers into his
wavy locks. “I wanted to know your name, princess.”
    Of all the endearments he’d lavished upon her thus far, she
decided she liked that one best of all. Smiling, she moved to levitate over the
desk as though she were sitting upon it.
    His eyes met hers, just before they began to rake over the
details of her dress. “Are you a princess? A noble? A commoner?” And she
realized he was attempting to judge by her gown who she was. But without
knowing how she could have gotten it, it offered very few clues.
    “I wish I knew.”
    “Hmmm.” He reached for the folds of silk that spilled out
around her, and watched as his fingertips slid through it. “Would you be
offended if I searched the books of other castles? I wish to discover who you
are. You present a mystery, and I do love mysteries.”
    “But what if I am a commoner and not listed in any of the
books?”
    The look in his eye troubled her, and she realized that he
would be disappointed if she turned out to be an ordinary peasant. Perhaps this
man, who appeared so gentle and thoughtful, accepting her even though she was
not living, was simply like the rest, and only cared about titles and how much
dowry a lady had.
    “May I do the research?” he pressed.
    “If you like.”
    Seeming to sense her slipping mood, he made an attempt to
cheer her. “I meant what I said. I do wish to help you find your identity.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered slowly.
    “I’m leaving for London tomorrow then.”
    “Did you not just return from there?”
    “Yes. Unfortunately, I don’t have the books I need here. You
could come with me. It would be helpful to compare your face with that of the
ones in the books.”
    “Oh. I’m afraid I cannot.” She began pinching her bottom lip
between her teeth. She knew she was doing it; it seemed to be a habit, though
she couldn’t actually feel it. Just like breathing, which she also couldn’t
feel, but also knew she was doing, even if it was unnecessary.
    “Why ever not?”
    “There seems to be a wall surrounding this property that
only I cannot cross. I am trapped here.”
    “That is quite strange.”
    “Yes, and frustrating.”
    He began perusing her face. Smirking, he shoved back his
chair, tugged open a drawer, then removed a sketchpad and charcoal from it.
“Then I will draw you myself. I want to be certain I remember correctly.”
    “Are you an artist?” Did he just blush? she asked
herself.
    “Yes,” he said, and blushed some more. Her lips curved with
mirth at that.
    “Is any of your work displayed here?”
    “A few things.” He’d already begun penciling in the outlines
of her face and chin.
    She leaned in closer to watch.  His gaze shifted back to
her, and then he laughed. “Hold still, please.”
    “My apologies, Lord Krestly,” she said, tugging herself upright
again.
    “Christian, please call me Christian. I cannot bear the
‘lord’ nonsense from you, too.”
    “Christian,” she echoed, and he smiled with approval.
    He added a faint line for the bridge of her nose, and then
placed her eyebrows