Read Online Dark Angel by Tracy Grant - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Tracy Grant
Tags: Fiction, Romance, Historical, Regency, Historical Romance, romantic suspense, Women's Fiction, Regency Romance, adult fiction, Historical Mystery, historical romantic suspense, Dark Angel, tasha alexander, lauren willig, vienna waltz, rightfully his, loretta chase, imperial scandal, beneath a silent moon, deanna raybourn, the mask of night, malcom and suzanne rannoch historical mysteries, josephine, cheryl bolen, his spanish bride, liz carlyle, melanie and charles fraiser, m. louisa locke, elizabeth bailey, shadows of the heart, anna wylde, robyn carr, daughter of the game, shores of desire, carol r. carr, teresa grant, the paris affair
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plaintive cry. Adela transferred her to her other breast. "Don't you owe it to him to see that his child grows up in comfort?"
This last was too much. Caroline got to her feet, intending to poke up the fire, to do anything that would allow her a moment to recover, and found herself looking into Adam's eyes.
There was no way to tell how long he had been awake or how much he had heard. His gaze gave nothing away, but his mouth curled in something like the smile she remembered from childhood. "How soon can you be ready to leave, Mrs. Rawley?"
Caroline looked into the dark eyes that were so painfully familiar. She would never be easy in his presence. She would never forget that he was the man who had ruined Jared and driven him to his death. She did not understand why he had risked so much to find her, but she had just seen him very nearly killed for her sake. In a sense she owed him the answer he was seeking.
She glanced toward the door to the second room where Emily sat with the other children, listening to Hawkins's story. Adela was right. Emily's safety came first. Caroline drew a breath. Her mouth was dry and her hands were trembling, but her voice was level. "Whenever you are well enough to travel, Mr. Durward."
Adam awoke to bright light, the sound of children's voices, and the smell of freshly baked bread. He lay very still for a moment because experience had taught him that it was best to be sure of where one was before trying anything foolish. The brightness proved to be sunlight, streaming through a hole in the roof that was meant to let the smoke out. The children seemed to be somewhere behind him. There were adult voices too, a woman's and another that sounded like Hawkins. He seemed to be talking to the children.
Children. Caroline's child. Caroline, the reason for his journey into Spain. The French patrol. The fight. The confrontation with Lieutenant Dumont and his own inglorious collapse in the street. That accounted for the dull throbbing in his side. All things considered, it could be a great deal worse. Adam pushed himself up cautiously on one elbow. White-hot pain lanced through him. It was a great deal worse.
"You're awake." A heart-shaped face framed by long fair hair appeared above him. It was like looking at Caroline, only he hadn't known Caroline when she was this young and of course it wasn't Caroline but Emily, her daughter. "Are you all better now?" She spoke Spanish almost without the trace of an accent.
"Very nearly," Adam said, stretching the truth.
"Well now, you look almost human." Hawkins moved into view. "Going to join the rest of us for breakfast, or shall we feed you on the floor?"
"I think I've been waited on enough as it is." Adam reached up and grasped Hawkins's hand. As he got to his feet he felt a wave of dizziness. Hawkins gripped his arm and looked sharply at him. "Hunger," Adam told him. "I haven't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. It affects some people this way."
"Sit down and have a piece of bread, Señor Durward. Fotunately, the French left us some flour. I was able to bake this morning." Caroline's friend Adela Soro set a round crusty loaf on the table. Now that the light was better and his head clearer, Adam saw that she was a handsome woman, strained and worn, like Caroline, but with an underlying vitality. Emily had rejoined the other children, who were pulling the bread apart with eager hands, but there was no sign of Caroline.
"She's gone home to collect her things," Adela said, interpreting his quick glance about the room.
"We stayed here last night," Emily said, looking up at Adam as he seated himself at the table. "Mama said we could because it was our last night in Acquera."
Adam accepted a hunk of bread from Adela. It smelled wonderful and tasted better. "What else did your mother say?" he asked Emily.
"That you're going to take us to Lisbon," Emily said matter-of-factly. She swallowed a mouthful of bread. "I remember Lisbon. There was a park
This last was too much. Caroline got to her feet, intending to poke up the fire, to do anything that would allow her a moment to recover, and found herself looking into Adam's eyes.
There was no way to tell how long he had been awake or how much he had heard. His gaze gave nothing away, but his mouth curled in something like the smile she remembered from childhood. "How soon can you be ready to leave, Mrs. Rawley?"
Caroline looked into the dark eyes that were so painfully familiar. She would never be easy in his presence. She would never forget that he was the man who had ruined Jared and driven him to his death. She did not understand why he had risked so much to find her, but she had just seen him very nearly killed for her sake. In a sense she owed him the answer he was seeking.
She glanced toward the door to the second room where Emily sat with the other children, listening to Hawkins's story. Adela was right. Emily's safety came first. Caroline drew a breath. Her mouth was dry and her hands were trembling, but her voice was level. "Whenever you are well enough to travel, Mr. Durward."
Adam awoke to bright light, the sound of children's voices, and the smell of freshly baked bread. He lay very still for a moment because experience had taught him that it was best to be sure of where one was before trying anything foolish. The brightness proved to be sunlight, streaming through a hole in the roof that was meant to let the smoke out. The children seemed to be somewhere behind him. There were adult voices too, a woman's and another that sounded like Hawkins. He seemed to be talking to the children.
Children. Caroline's child. Caroline, the reason for his journey into Spain. The French patrol. The fight. The confrontation with Lieutenant Dumont and his own inglorious collapse in the street. That accounted for the dull throbbing in his side. All things considered, it could be a great deal worse. Adam pushed himself up cautiously on one elbow. White-hot pain lanced through him. It was a great deal worse.
"You're awake." A heart-shaped face framed by long fair hair appeared above him. It was like looking at Caroline, only he hadn't known Caroline when she was this young and of course it wasn't Caroline but Emily, her daughter. "Are you all better now?" She spoke Spanish almost without the trace of an accent.
"Very nearly," Adam said, stretching the truth.
"Well now, you look almost human." Hawkins moved into view. "Going to join the rest of us for breakfast, or shall we feed you on the floor?"
"I think I've been waited on enough as it is." Adam reached up and grasped Hawkins's hand. As he got to his feet he felt a wave of dizziness. Hawkins gripped his arm and looked sharply at him. "Hunger," Adam told him. "I haven't eaten in nearly twenty-four hours. It affects some people this way."
"Sit down and have a piece of bread, Señor Durward. Fotunately, the French left us some flour. I was able to bake this morning." Caroline's friend Adela Soro set a round crusty loaf on the table. Now that the light was better and his head clearer, Adam saw that she was a handsome woman, strained and worn, like Caroline, but with an underlying vitality. Emily had rejoined the other children, who were pulling the bread apart with eager hands, but there was no sign of Caroline.
"She's gone home to collect her things," Adela said, interpreting his quick glance about the room.
"We stayed here last night," Emily said, looking up at Adam as he seated himself at the table. "Mama said we could because it was our last night in Acquera."
Adam accepted a hunk of bread from Adela. It smelled wonderful and tasted better. "What else did your mother say?" he asked Emily.
"That you're going to take us to Lisbon," Emily said matter-of-factly. She swallowed a mouthful of bread. "I remember Lisbon. There was a park
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