Read Online Dawson Bride (Wolf Brides Book 3) by T. S. Joyce - Free Book Online Page A

uniform.
    “No! No, no, we don’t. I don’t know of whom you’re speaking ma’am, but I’m not who you think I am.”
    I yanked but Mr. Tabernathy’s grip into my collar bone was like steel. He was spry for an old man.
    “Ralston will be so relieved to hear you are alive, Lucianna,” he said through a steely gaze as he helped his wife hail the officer. “It’s unkind of you to let your fiancé mourn you like this.”
    “Please, sir. I’m begging you to unhand me. You’re hurting me.”
    The officer had found a uniformed friend and they weaved through the crowd toward us.
    “Let me go!” I shoved Mr. Tabernathy as hard as I could and hobbled through a hole in the passersby. I didn’t look back or hesitate, I just ran for my life.
    Frantically searching for a familiar face, movement caught my attention from a brick shingled roof. How in creation had Gable managed to get up there? He waved me toward an ally and I bolted for it as fast as my cane would allow. Pain screeched through me but I couldn’t slow down now. Whistles trilled out around me and terror snaked down my spine as I gasped for air. Gable was close. He hung from a roof with his hand outstretched. It was my salvation if only I could get there in time. I pushed my legs faster as the sound of men’s voices entered the ally.
    “Miss! Stop right there! Stop!”
    I didn’t stop until I heard the crack of a pistol being cocked. I skidded to a stop and threw my hands up. The cane clattered to the muddy street. “Please don’t shoot me,” I stammered. I couldn’t feel that kind of pain again.
    Gable’s face was frozen in some unreadable expression and I closed my eyes against his disappointment. I was a coward. I turned to find twenty men, both uniformed and not, in the mouth of the ally. The man with the gun approached and ripped my bonnet off to expose my unusual hair.
    “I’ll be damned,” he said through a foul, yellow smile. “It’s her. Somebody let Mr. Bastrop know we got her.”

Chapter Seven
    Lucianna
     
    What was I going to do? Bars covered the window of my tiny prison cell which, as it happened, was my only way to tell how late in the day it was becoming. I’d paced frantically for hours but it hadn’t slowed time. Shadows had lengthened and the sun had disappeared over the horizon and left the deep blue of evening in its absence. I was going to miss the boat. I would miss my chance at freedom—at survival.
    There was no doubt Ralston was on his way this very moment. If he were in London, it would buy a little time but not much. He wouldn’t leave my death in the hands of others the second time around. I’d led him on a delightful chase. One a hunter waits a lifetime for. He’d make sure I was thoroughly dead this time.
    I wrung my hands and stood on my tiptoes to see through the bars again. The side of a red brick building gaped back at me. In the sky, a star had popped up since my last lap around the cage the British officers had hurried me to. I’d grossly underestimated Ralston’s reach.
    Three of my jailers sat around a small table playing cards by candle light. They laughed and joked about the handsome reward they’d get when Mr. Bastrop arrived. It made me sick to my stomach. They didn’t know it yet, but they were selling their souls for a few pounds.
    The front door creaked open and in stepped a finely dressed man in a powdered wig. The officers stopped their game and stood to greet him.
    “I have it under good authority you have my client detained without any formal charges being brought.” The man smiled patiently. “I’m her lawyer, you see.”
    “We don’t need charges on this one, sir,” one of the officers answered. “She’s a suspect in the murder of her family.”
    “Oh, I see. And there’s evidence enough to bring charges?”
    “Well, no.”
    I pressed my face against the bars and squinted. My so-called lawyer looked vaguely familiar. He gave me a dark eyed wink as the officers quibbled. The