Read Online Flight of the Earls by Michael K. Reynolds - Free Book Online Page B

from their nostrils as it blended with the cool air.
    The clamor of wagon wheels grinding over the rough road made discussion difficult, and Finn didn’t offer much conversation anyway so they remained quiet. Occasionally he would look over to her and blush, obviously pleased with her companionship.
    Clare surveyed the road closely in both directions for any sign of the boys, in the chance they were napping in a rain trench. As they went by a sprawling manor, the two were nowhere to be seen, but the fields were replete with laborers feeding the livestock and attending to the garden and hedges.
    After a while of passing through the familiar sights leading back to town, she shouted above the wagon’s rattle over to Finn. “Your cousin is a fine woman. Very charitable.”
    He nodded. “’Tis.”
    The crunching sounds of the wood on dirt filled the silence before she braved her next question. “Do you think Jack was displeased with our visit?”
    He didn’t answer her straight away, and Clare wasn’t sure whether he hadn’t heard her or if he chose not to respond. After a lengthy minute Finn spoke up. “It was the fowl.”
    â€œThe fowl?”
    â€œHe was on his way to pay the lease.”
    â€œThe lease? I don’t understand.”
    â€œMy cousin and her husband were on the way to the landlord. Last night in the road when we met them. They were hoping the chicken would give them some time . . . keep them from being evicted.”
    â€œOh. I see.” Clare’s heart dropped with guilt. She didn’t inquire further.
    After a couple of miles, they entered a small complex of buildings that were just shy of the intersection with the main roadway to Cork. They passed a woman leading a goat by a rope, with two small children struggling to keep pace.
    Finn slowed the cart to a halt in front of the tavern, which looked more like a large house. Only the wooden Public House sign creaking in the wind on a post revealed its purpose.
    He came down from the wagon, and as he was encircling it, she leaned over the slats of the wagon behind her and buried her pack in straw. She had to shoo away one of the pigs to do so, straining her back in the process. When she turned, Finn had a hand extended to her and she gratefully used it as leverage as she stepped down to the road.
    When they arrived at the large oak door of the tavern, they discovered it locked. He rapped several times at the iron knocker, but there was no response. Clare shook the handle of the door in frustration as Finn walked over and stepped on a boulder so he could peer into a small window at the front of the building. She watched him with hope, but his body language spoke before he did.
    â€œNo one inside. Only empty tables.”
    He stepped down, and as he looked at Clare, she could tell his angst over being delayed had dissipated and was now replaced with compassion for her predicament. “I’m awful sorry.” Finn headed back toward the wagon.
    Clare turned around, leaned her back against the door, and put her hands to her face. She was beginning to panic. What would she do now? Where could they possibly be? Trying not to cry, she began to question why she ever left Branlow. She should have stood up to her father and never left the farm. If he was so intent on a trip across the sea, he should have gone himself and left Clare and her siblings to fend for themselves.
    â€œWe’re closed if it’s not obvious.”
    Clare removed her hands from her eyes, and a stern-faced woman approached carrying an armful of produce.
    â€œIs this your establishment?” Clare asked.
    â€œIf you need to ask, it means you’re not from around here.”
    Clare brushed off the comment. “Have you seen two young men? One who is tall and the other with red hair?”
    The woman put a key into the door and turned it with a click. “Oh, we’ve seen those two more than we wished. They