Her words died away as the door swung open once more and a tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the hall. Though Maggie's attention was fixed on the newcomer, she was aware that Geordie had risen to his feet. The man had stopped just beyond the circle of light so that Maggie could not see the expression on his face, but his tone, when he spoke, was cold. "So you've returned." Quickly, Jeannie intervened. "And just see who he has brought with him."
Slowly the man moved forward, into the light, and now his face was clearly visible. Though a strong family resemblance lurked in the curve of the brow, the set of the nose, this man's hair was midnight black as were his eyes, and there was nothing boyish in his expression as there was in Geordie's. Rather, this man's features bore the stamp of pain and sorrow.
Abruptly filled with confusion, Maggie wondered if she should leap to her feet and curtsy in the grand manner. In the end she did nothing, for in that same instant she became aware that the man had stopped, gone rigid, while his eyes, huge in a face suddenly grown pale, stared at her as if she were an unholy apparition