Read Online Elusive Hope by MaryLu Tyndall - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: MaryLu Tyndall
Ads: Link
endless canvas of green.
Mercy me, she’d lost Hayden again! Why did that infernal man have to walk so fast? Good thing he left boot prints in the mud large enough to belong to a bear as well as broken branches and leaves so she could follow his trail or she’d be hopelessly lost. She shivered at the thought and glanced around at the thousands of birds and insects abuzz in the tangled canopy. Chirping and croaking and warbling and hissing and droning. Could they never stop and give her a moment’s peace? She would go mad with the incessant hum!
And the heat! Never should a lady perspire this much. With each step, her damp petticoats rubbed against her corset, which rubbed against her chemise, which of course was glued to her skin. Soon her petticoats would be stuck to her as well, and next her over-skirts and bodice, until finally she would be completely drenched.
And smelling nothing like a lady.
Her skirts caught on something. The sound of fabric tearing grated her ears before she had the good sense to stop and free herself. “Oh, bah!” She stared at the rent in her beautiful dimity gown as tears filled her eyes.
How was she to endure five days of this torture? Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to follow Hayden, after all. She had thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep hidden among the brush of the jungle nor to follow the odious man’s trail. After all, she’d gained some stamina these past months. She’d grown accustomed to the bugs and the heat and to walking more than usual. Hadn’t she? Then why did she feel as though she slogged through molasses—hot, prickly molasses?
But what else was she to do when the man refused to escort her to Rio? And even if he had, after his provocative insinuations, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. This way was better. He would lead her to Rio and never be the wiser. Of course, she hadn’t thought what she would do at night. And for food beyond the fruit the jungle offered. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Using her valise as a shield and her parasol as a sword, she forged ahead, searching the trail for boot prints. There. A huge one. And over there, another. My word, but the man had a hearty stride. Perspiration stung her eyes, and she swiped it away, looking for the next print. Nothing but mud and leaves met her gaze. Lowering her valise, she inched ahead, batting aside vines and scouring the ground in all directions. Nothing. No prints, no flattened leaves, no broken branches. It was as if he had been taken up by God on this very spot like Enoch or Elijah. But she knew that couldn’t have happened to the stowaway rogue. How she remembered her Bible stories, she had no idea. She hadn’t opened the book in years, nor had she truly listened to the sermons her parents had dragged her to each Sunday.
She swirled around, peering through the greenery, looking for a flash of his dark blue coat, a hint of his hair, the color of roasted almonds. But all she saw was a labyrinth of green spinning around and around until dizziness jumbled her thoughts and sent her breath huddling in her throat. Her heart seized. What would happen to her now?
“Looking for me?”
Magnolia shrieked as Hayden emerged from the jungle looking at her with that patronizing I’m-in-control-and-you’re-a-dolt look.
“How dare you sneak up on me!” She poked him with her parasol.
Without even a flinch, Hayden snagged it and tossed it to the ground. “Me? Sneak up on you?” He snorted. “You’re the one who’s been following me.”
“I have not. We just happen to be going in the same direction.”
“Is that so? And what direction is that? North, south, east, or west? How can you tell when you can’t see the sun?”
“How can you tell?” She placed a hand on her hip.
“Because I’m used to living on my own, finding my way, not relying on a footman and a carriage to take me wherever I want at the snap of my fingers.”
Why was his voice so sharp with spite?
Mercy me, she’d lost Hayden again! Why did that infernal man have to walk so fast? Good thing he left boot prints in the mud large enough to belong to a bear as well as broken branches and leaves so she could follow his trail or she’d be hopelessly lost. She shivered at the thought and glanced around at the thousands of birds and insects abuzz in the tangled canopy. Chirping and croaking and warbling and hissing and droning. Could they never stop and give her a moment’s peace? She would go mad with the incessant hum!
And the heat! Never should a lady perspire this much. With each step, her damp petticoats rubbed against her corset, which rubbed against her chemise, which of course was glued to her skin. Soon her petticoats would be stuck to her as well, and next her over-skirts and bodice, until finally she would be completely drenched.
And smelling nothing like a lady.
Her skirts caught on something. The sound of fabric tearing grated her ears before she had the good sense to stop and free herself. “Oh, bah!” She stared at the rent in her beautiful dimity gown as tears filled her eyes.
How was she to endure five days of this torture? Perhaps it hadn’t been such a good idea to follow Hayden, after all. She had thought it wouldn’t be too difficult to keep hidden among the brush of the jungle nor to follow the odious man’s trail. After all, she’d gained some stamina these past months. She’d grown accustomed to the bugs and the heat and to walking more than usual. Hadn’t she? Then why did she feel as though she slogged through molasses—hot, prickly molasses?
But what else was she to do when the man refused to escort her to Rio? And even if he had, after his provocative insinuations, she wasn’t sure she trusted him. This way was better. He would lead her to Rio and never be the wiser. Of course, she hadn’t thought what she would do at night. And for food beyond the fruit the jungle offered. But she couldn’t think about that now.
Using her valise as a shield and her parasol as a sword, she forged ahead, searching the trail for boot prints. There. A huge one. And over there, another. My word, but the man had a hearty stride. Perspiration stung her eyes, and she swiped it away, looking for the next print. Nothing but mud and leaves met her gaze. Lowering her valise, she inched ahead, batting aside vines and scouring the ground in all directions. Nothing. No prints, no flattened leaves, no broken branches. It was as if he had been taken up by God on this very spot like Enoch or Elijah. But she knew that couldn’t have happened to the stowaway rogue. How she remembered her Bible stories, she had no idea. She hadn’t opened the book in years, nor had she truly listened to the sermons her parents had dragged her to each Sunday.
She swirled around, peering through the greenery, looking for a flash of his dark blue coat, a hint of his hair, the color of roasted almonds. But all she saw was a labyrinth of green spinning around and around until dizziness jumbled her thoughts and sent her breath huddling in her throat. Her heart seized. What would happen to her now?
“Looking for me?”
Magnolia shrieked as Hayden emerged from the jungle looking at her with that patronizing I’m-in-control-and-you’re-a-dolt look.
“How dare you sneak up on me!” She poked him with her parasol.
Without even a flinch, Hayden snagged it and tossed it to the ground. “Me? Sneak up on you?” He snorted. “You’re the one who’s been following me.”
“I have not. We just happen to be going in the same direction.”
“Is that so? And what direction is that? North, south, east, or west? How can you tell when you can’t see the sun?”
“How can you tell?” She placed a hand on her hip.
“Because I’m used to living on my own, finding my way, not relying on a footman and a carriage to take me wherever I want at the snap of my fingers.”
Why was his voice so sharp with spite?
Similar Books
