Read With This Kiss for Free Online Page B

ain’t,” Bunbutt said, with a snarl that raised his top lip in a remarkably unattractive fashion. “You can throw me in the jug when you decide I’ve drunk a bit more than you fools consider necessary, but you can’t stop me from dealing with a problem that I own . So just take your sanctimonious arse back into the bakery, Wadd.”
    He swung back to Colin. “Give me back my reins, you son of a—”
    “I wouldn’t,” Colin said softly.
    Bunbutt obviously caught the likelihood of violent engagement in Colin’s eyes; he fell back a step. “Look here,” he said with a bit of a whine, “just give me the damned horse and I’ll take him home with me.”
    “Home!” the baker snorted. “You haven’t got a home, you old scoundrel. Your missus told everyone in the church the other day that she’s kicked you out. She’s a decent woman, and you’ve worn her to a nub.”
    “My wife is none of your business!” Bunbutt said, his voice rising again. “She’s another limb of Satan. I’ve got nothing but betrayal on all sides.”
    “How much?” Colin asked.
    He could hear the horse breathing harshly behind him but he had settled, and was merely moving from hoof to hoof. It sounded as if he wore only three shoes.
    “I ain’t selling him,” Bunbutt shouted. His cheeks were turning red again. “I know your game! You’re trying to take away my livelihood, and then you’ll let me starve by the side of the road. An’ my Christian wife will walk by and spit on my head. I’ll take my horse!”
    He charged forward again, so Colin gave him a stiff uppercut to the jaw.
    “I’ll have the parish constable on you!” Bunbutt cried, reeling backward, a dribble of blood coming from his mouth.
    Colin took out a gold sovereign and tossed it, deliberately, so that it fell on the ground between them.
    Bunbutt’s eyes followed the flash of gold to where it lay on the cobblestones. “Yer trying to buy me horse for a measly—”
    Another followed.
    “That animal isn’t worth more than two,” the baker said, stepping forward. “The poor thing has been abused by this fool here for the past three years.” He turned and poked Bunbutt in the chest. “And no saying where you got him from. He’s too fine an animal for you to own, and we all said so from the first. You stole him!”
    “I did not!” Bunbutt screamed.
    Colin threw a third sovereign.
    “That’s too much,” the baker said.
    “I’ll take another!” Bunbutt said greedily. “You want this horse, you have to pay for him. And pay good. He’s a fine animal, of a championship pedigree.”
    Colin didn’t give a damn what pedigree the horse had. What he saw was a dumb beast, beaten and abused by a drunken, uncaring bastard. In fact, the world would be a better place without Bunbutt.
    The man must have seen that thought in his eyes because he suddenly dropped to his knees and scrabbled for the sovereigns.
    “He’s yours, then!” he said shrilly, backing away so sharply that he struck the baker.
    “Faugh, you smell!” the baker said, thrusting him aside.
    “I hope that limb of Satan kicks you just as you kicked me. God will make sure of it.”
    “God!” the baker scoffed. “As if he’d know the difference between you and a common stone on the ground.”
    “Leave,” Colin stated. “You no longer belong in Winkle.”
    Bunbutt leaned forward and spat. “That’s what I think of you.” Then he turned around and ran, with an odd stumbling gait, from the alley.
    “You paid too much for that horse,” the baker said. “Though it was an earthly kindness of you to rescue it. I doubt it’s good for more than the rag-and-bones man.”
    “We’ll see,” Colin said. He unwound the reins from his hand. “I’m Sir Griffin Barry’s son, and I just came to Arbor House last night with my wife. I need a woman to cook and clean, since there are no servants in residence at the moment.”
    “Mrs. Busbee does for Sir Griffin,” the baker said immediately.