Read Mine to Tarnish for Free Online Page A

instead of baggy and worn. Not who I would have expected the male tarnished would return with. I was sure it'd be another male.
    The whole thing is made even stranger by the clothes she’s wearing. A two piece, which is what they wear, but the colors stand out. A dark orange blouse and dusty pink skirt. I don’t know if I like the combination, but something about the way the woman wears them, the way she carries herself, makes them look good. Really good.
    “ You didn’t relax,” the male says.
    He seems to be waiting for a reply so I admit, “I couldn’t.”
    After sighing, he motions the older woman to another chair.
    She sits there across from me. “Why don’t you tell me your story, dear? I’d very much like to know why you are here.”
    Why am I here? I’m not certain I know.
    “ Why don’t you start with your owner? Who is he?”
    Nigel flashes through my mind, his smell and age invading my space. I could give lies. They come easily, but the reminder of him mixed with their treatment of me so far makes me want to be honest. “No one I want to return to.”
    At this, the tarnished woman smiles and places her hand on mine. “I think, my dear, that you have found just the right place.”

 
     
    Chapter Six
     
     
    “I’ m Mary, and this is Charles.”
    This means I should offer my name as well, but I’m not ready to divulge. It’s nice to know the name of the tarnished helping me. Charles. It’s a name I’ve always liked. He scuffs the toe of his shoe on the floor but watches me closely out of the corner of his eyes. I quickly look away, a flush of heat spreading through me.
    “You don’t have to tell us your name if you’re not ready,” Mary says. “Now how did you happen upon us?”
    “ My mother spoke of you.” It’s hard not to let emotion color my words. “There was a tarnished who was our friend. She decided to run, and mother said she was coming to you for help.”
    “ What is your friend's name?”
    “ Tilda.” My heart gives a sad pang.
    “ You’re Tilda’s little one? Or were. You’re not so little anymore.”
    “ She spoke of me?”
    “ Who is she?” Charles asks Mary.
    She shakes her head at him and says to me, “Whenever we saw each other, she did speak of you. She was the best of women.”
    “She was.”
    Charles’s lips thin, sadness etching his features.
    After a moment, Mary asks, “Who is your owner? Is he going to come looking for you?”
    Is he? I hope not. “I was sold to Nigel Crowell this week. He seems pretty desperate for a breeder with a lot of magic in her blood. Which happens to be me. I doubt he’ll let me go easily.”
    The lines in her face deepen as her muscles tighten. “Did you bring all of your possessions with you or did you leave something behind?”
    “ I don’t know.” I think back to my room, to the things I grabbed. I had such little time to pack and prepare. Everything was thrown in. I don’t have much. It shouldn’t be hard, yet I can’t be certain.
    “ This is important.” Her voice is still kind but strained now.
    Doesn’t matter if it is important. It's no easier to remember. Besides, why could it possibly be so important? “Just a moment.”
    If only there had been more time to gather my things. I rummage through my pack, mentally taking note. A spare dress, underthings, face paint, brush, hairpins, the stolen sewing kit. It’s all here except— “My ribbon is still at Father’s.”
    “ Just a ribbon? Or does it have more value?”
    The pack slips from my hands. How could I have forgotten it? How? “Tilda gave it to me.”
    Her lips shrink into a pinched line.
    “ Is that bad?” Why could it be? For them at least, for me I will miss the only item I had to remind me of her.
    “ We can’t be certain as of yet, but it bears checking into,” she says. “Charles, show her to the kitchens. I’m going to have someone keep an extra eye on things around here and send a scout to town and see if there’s news of