Read Online Danger's Kiss by Glynnis Campbell - Free Book Online Page B

he drowned his guilt in ale, wishing he could set aside enough of his earnings to cover the taxes of all the starving peasants instead of only the most desperate.  It was unconscionable to punish a hungry man for stealing a loaf of bread.
    Azrael jumped up on his lap again, and this time he let the beast stay, idly petting his snowy fur while he purred.
    “Snowflake,” he murmured.
    It had been six days since Desirée had left his cottage with a self-assured swish of her skirts.  Six days since he’d seen her fiery emerald eyes and luxurious hair and succulent, swearing lips.  But it hadn’t been six days since he’d imagined her.  The enchanting witch seemed to intrude upon his every thought, as distracting as the persistent itch of a bug bite.
    Had she found shelter?  Food?  Employment?  Or would she be reduced to stealing bread like the lad he’d just punished?
    Azrael growled as Nicholas unwittingly clenched his fingers in the cat’s fur.  Nicholas released him, and the cat jumped down, crossing to the hearth with an indignant shiver.
    Nicholas eyed the black cloak he’d tossed down beside his keg.  Perhaps he’d seek out the lass and check on her condition.  It was just the thing to get his mind off the bony lad with the tears streaming down his cheeks.

    “Torteval Hall?” Desirée repeated as nonchalantly as possible, rubbing the pair of dice between her palms.  Villagers pushed and shoved and sidled past her makeshift oak barrel gaming table along the narrow lane as she entertained her current pair of targets.
    “Aye,” the player said proudly, giving her a wink.  “I’m master of the mews there.”
    “Indeed?”  She cast the dice across the circular top of the barrel.  Maybe her luck had just changed.  This man might have just the information she needed to learn the truth about the murder.
    Five and three.
    “Zounds!  I did it, Bardolph!” the man cried, elbowing his dour companion, who seemed impatient to leave.  “I won again!”
    Desirée sighed in feigned disappointment and slid the coins toward him.  “Lady Luck is certainly with you today, sir.”
    He beamed, showing off a gap-toothed row of teeth.  “I’ll go again.  A halfpenny this time, eh?”
    She nodded, placing her coin beside his, but the fellow beside him grunted something in disapproval.
    “Lady Philomena will wait,” the master of the mews said.  “You heard what the wench said.  Lady Luck is with me.  Right?”  He grinned at her with gleaming, greedy eyes.
    “So ‘twould seem,” she agreed.
    She shook the dice in her cupped hands, surreptitiously exchanging one of them for a weighted die from the purse at her waist.
    It wasn’t a perfect system.  One of the dice would still be completely unpredictable.  But the other would always land on a one.  The odds were in Desirée’s favor, for she knew that nothing higher than a seven could ever be thrown.
    She added casually, “I hear Lady Luck was not at Torteval last week.”
    “Mm?”
    “Wasn’t there a murder at the place?”
    “Oh, aye.  Caught the bastard who did it, though, and strung him up.  Nicholas Grimshaw himself gave him the final tweak.  Did ye see it?  Cracked the killer’s neck like a twig.”
    Her grip faltered and she dropped the weighted die, quickly scooping it back up, but not before she earned a mistrustful frown from Bardolph.  Her voice was hoarse as she asked, “What number, sir?”
    “Eight again.”
    “Very good.  I’ll take...five.”
    The dice clattered across the barrel.  One and three.
    “Damn!”  The coins remained where they were.  He squinted at the silver left in his purse.  “Another penny?”
    Desirée had to be frugal.  She’d barely made enough coin in the last six days to pay for her keep, and that was living on one trencher of pottage a day.  Still, she didn’t have much choice.  She needed to keep the man playing if she wanted to find out more about the murder.
    “All right.