Read Heather and Velvet for Free Online Page B

Sebastian and his father’s fists. It had cost him two teeth and earned him Sebastian’s unswerving loyalty.
    “Ye know D’Artan won’t like this one wee bit,” Tiny went on. “If the lass talks, it could be yer neck and his as well.”
    Sebastian felt a cold mask fall over his face; the mask of his father’s face, the jovial ferocity he had always longed to smash. “No, Tiny. If she talks, it’ll be her neck.”
    Tiny shook his head wearily and crossed the hut to squat down beside him. Sunlight struck silver as he tossed the hairpins in Sebastian’s lap. “Ye’d best treasure them. They’re all ye’ve got to show fer last night’s work.”
    Sebastian waited until Tiny had gone to cut a splint before gathering the hairpins. He handled them reverently, as if they were tipped with something far more precious than pearls.
    Jamie was the most unpleasant creature Prudence had ever encountered. She ached to be alone with her thoughts, but he chattered on blithely with jokes more suited for a brothel than a lady’s company. She edged away from him when he paused to scratch his crotch and spit. By the time they reached the road, he had dragged her into one wet bramble bush, two rabbit holes, and a tree trunk. Her shins, she knew, would be black and blue by the morrow, and her delicate skin itched already with what threatened to be poison sumac.
    Jamie looked both ways down the deserted road, scratching his head. Prudence took a step backward, fearful something might leap out of the ragged mop.
    “I hate to leave ye here all by yer lonesome,” he said. “Ye could be set upon by robbers. Ye know how robbers are. They love blind girls.” He leered at her. “Blind girls can’t kiss and tell.”
    “I’ll be fine. If you could just sit me down at the side of the road, I’m sure someone will come along soon.”
    She resisted the urge to kick him as he led her to the middle of the road and pushed her to a seated position. “There ye go, luv. Sit right here in this patch of wildflowers. Ain’t they pleasant?” His gamin nose wrinkled. “Smell them now.”
    Prudence could smell nothing. The muddy road sucked at her skirt. He must think she was blind
and
stupid, she thought. She smiled brightly at the nearest tree. “Thank you. You are a true gentleman.”
    He circled her until he stood behind her. “I’ll be on me way now. Good day.” He ran in place for a moment, then stood utterly still, holding his breath.
    Prudence began to hum softly, as would any genteel lady who had been left on a flowery bank to await the next coach. After three stanzas of “My Shepherd Is The Living Lord,” Jamie sighed in defeat and melted into the woods. Prudence did not stir. The morning sun lengthened toward noon.
    Finally, she dared to peek behind her. Sunlight glinted off glossy foliage. The chirp of a lark broke the waiting silence of the forest. Seeing and hearing nothing else, she gathered her muddy skirts and fled toward the meadow.
    A tousled head shot out from behind an oak. Hazel eyes narrowed, and Jamie muttered to himself as Prudence scaled a fence, her bedraggled dress a splash of purple against a field dotted with yellow buttercups.
    He tugged his ears and chortled. “Damned agile for a blind lass, wouldn’t ye say, Kirkpatrick, me lad?”
    He sprinted toward the hut, leaping rocks and dodging trees like the mad Highlander he was.
    •  •  •
    Prudence rolled through the window at the end of the upstairs corridor, blessing the iron trellis and weighted window sashes her aunt had chosen during her perpetual remodeling. Prudence’s own window had been latched. She pulled off her shoes and tiptoed across the parquet floor. Clipped footsteps echoed on the polished wood. She looked around frantically. Not a doorway or alcove in sight. She pressed herself to the wall as if she might somehow disappear into the elaborate scrollwork. Old Fish, the aged butler, rounded the corner, sucking loudly on his sunken