Read Emerald (Jewel Trilogy, Book 2) for Free Online

hire."
    Behind her, Caithren heard feet shuffling impatiently on the gritty wood floor. "Hurry up, there," someone grumbled.
    "Hold your tongue," Cait shot over her shoulder. "I've spent eight days shut up in a hot coach"—with a crotchety, meddling old woman, she added silently—"just to get here and visit with my brother at the Scarborough estate in West Riding."
    Rubbing his thin, reddish nose, the innkeeper slanted her a dubious look. "The Earl of Scarborough's estate?"
    "Aye, the same."
    He shrugged. "You can walk. It's nice enough weather and naught but a mile or so." The man opened a drawer and pulled out a thick, leather-bound registration book. "Out there, then head east. The road will take you straight past the Scarborough place. You'll find it set back on the right side, perhaps a quarter mile from the road. An enormous stone mansion—you cannot miss it." With a dismissive thump, he set the book on the desk and opened it to a page marked with a ribbon. "You may leave your satchel if you wish. Should Scarborough invite you to stay"—his tone conveyed what he thought were the chances of that happening—"I reckon he'll send a footman to fetch it."
    He waved her aside and the next person forward.
    "Come along, lass. We'll be losing the light soon." Mrs. Dochart set her own bag alongside Cait's behind the desk. "Unless you'd prefer to wait for the morn?" she added hopefully.
    Cait reached up a finger to twirl one of her plaits. "Nay, I wish to go immediately." Without a chaperone. "But I'm…I mean to say…well, I expected we'd part company here. Not that I haven't enjoyed yours," she rushed to add, waiting for a lightning bolt to strike with that lie.
    She couldn't remember ever uttering a more blatant falsehood.
    The old bawface looked dubious. "Your cousin hired me to look after you, lass, and—"
    "Only so far as Pontefract. He was well aware I was getting off here, aye? My brother will hire a chaperone for the return journey."
    Though Mrs. Dochart sniffed, it was clear she had no wish to tramp over the countryside. "If you're certain, then—"
    "I'm certain." For want of another way to end their association, Caithren executed a little curtsy. "It's pleased I am to have met you, Mrs. Dochart, and I thank you for keeping me company."
    That lie might have topped the first one; Cait wasn't sure. Feeling a great burden had been lifted from her shoulders, she crossed the inn's taproom and headed out into the waning sunshine and down the road.
    She hadn't progressed ten feet when the woman's voice shrilled into the quiet street. "Ah, Caithren, lass!"
    With a sigh, Cait composed her face and turned back to the inn. "Aye, Mrs. Dochart?" The bawface stood framed in the doorway. A cracked wooden sign swung in the light wind, creaking over her head. "I told you I shall be fine."
    "But the innkeeper said east. It's west you're walking."
    "Oh!" Her cheeks heated. "Right."
    "Nay, left."
    "Right. I mean to say, aye. Left, east."
    Reversing her direction, Cait hurried past, murmuring "Thank you" over her shoulder. She heard the woman mutter under her breath and was soon relieved to be out of earshot.
    The evening was warm, and the slight breeze felt wonderful after the stuffy, confining coach. It was passably pretty country, the land green and flatter than at home. She much preferred the harsh contours of Scotland—the beautiful glens, the blues and purples of the wooded mountains, the little lochs and streams and waterfalls everywhere. But she didn't have to live here, after all. She could enjoy the land for what beauty could be found.
    Her heart sang to be free at last, on her way to meet Adam and perhaps rest a few days, depending on the returning public coach's schedule. In two weeks' time she'd be back at Leslie, signed papers in hand, giving Cameron the tongue-lashing he deserved for saddling her with that irritating old woman.
    Glancing down, she spotted the distinctive red-green leaves of meadow rue poking from the