Read Online Claimed by a Scottish Lord by Melody Thomas - Free Book Online

bit, fighting his restraint.

    ―Take it easy, boy,‖ she said, catching the scent of campfire smoke. She straightened in the saddle and tented a hand over her eyes, locating the ribbon of gray smoke above the trees. ―I see the smoke, too.‖

    The corner of her mouth crooked. She had specifically waited two days, when she knew the mountebank would be returning this way on his route back to Chesters. He never ventured far from the border.

    The road wound its way another mile around a shallow stream through a tunnel of trees. She followed the scent of cooking fish. The peddler‘s gayly painted wagon filled with an assortment of wares and pots and pans dangling from the roof sat at the edge of the woods. Two horses chomping on the high grass raised their heads and watched her dismount before deciding she was no threat and returning to eating. She untied the two horses, encouraging them with a thwack on the rump to run away. She tied the stallion reins to the wheel of the wagon and walked into the clearing.

    The peddler and another man sat playing a game of dice over coins piled on a rock between them. She recognized the second man sitting with the mountebank as Geddes Graham even before he turned his head.

    The peddler jumped to his feet. ―Miss Rose,‖ the mountebank said, nervously wiping his greasy hands on his trousers.

    He wore a checked waistcoat and greasy leather leggings, the same unwashed clothes she‘d seen him wearing the last three times he‘d come through Castleton, and for just a moment, she felt sorry for his circumstance, until she reminded herself that he‘d cheated Jack of his coin.

    ―Mr. Rolf,‖ she said.

    But it was Geddes whom she watched as his eyes widened a fraction on the stallion. The mountebank might be an opportunist and a cheat, but Geddes was a snake. Unlike most men Rose towered over, Geddes Graham made up for his lack of height in bulk.

    ―Why, if it isn‘t our thorny Rose what come to visit us, Rolf,‖ Geddes said, resting his hand above the knife he wore on his hip like a shiny rapier sheathed in gold. ―What brings ye to see the mountebank?‖

    The mountebank stepped eagerly forward. ―Ye want a nostrum or other medicines for an ailment, Miss Rose?‖

    ―Jack Lowell gave you a coin for a bonnet he did not receive. I want the coin back.‖

    Geddes snorted as he approached. ―Jackie boy is a thievin‘ scoundrel, Rose. That coin was no‘ even his.‖

    ―You are wrong. He earned that coin. And I want it back. Now.‖

    ―Do ye hear that, Rolf? Our thorny Rose wants Jack‘s coin back.‖

    The mountebank twisted his hands. ―Now, ye can no‘ be grudging any man an honest living, Miss Rose. Even someone as pretty as you—‖

    Geddes laughed. ―Miss Rose, pretty? She‘s as skinny as a fresh-hatched sardine, Rolf.‖
    His leer raked the natty jacket that fell just to the top of her scuffed boots. ―A man wants a woman beneath him who is no‘ afraid of his touch. Look at her, Rolf. One day, she‘ll be a shriveled old crone like ol‘ Nessa wonderin‘ why a real man would never have her.‖

    ―I don‘t see a real man standing in front of me, Geddes. I see an overgrown boy playing at being a man.‖

    Geddes‘s eyes narrowed. He remained near enough that she smelled his fish breath.
    ―Maybe you stole the coin the same place you stole that stud, Rose. How else would that brat get his hands on a coin?‖

    He made a move toward the stallion but she stepped into his path, startling him.

    Rose slid the knife from its sheath on Geddes‘s hip and, moving only her hand, inserted the blade between his legs, stopping him cold. ―Careful, Geddes. I have never gelded a man. But if you move one inch nearer, I swear on my life, you do so at your own peril.‖

    ―Bluidy hell, Rose,‖ he gasped.

    ―I mean what I say, Geddes.‖ She spoke to the mountebank without turning her attention from Geddes. ―Mr. Rolf? I want that coin. Set it on the rock next to me,