Read Online Judith E. French by Shawnee Moon - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Shawnee Moon
Ads: Link
them sheltered from the weather and provided escort to a loyal household the next morning.” He glanced back at the narrow road ahead, remembering the tears running down the old man’s face as he’d asked Sterling what would happen to Cailin.
“Ye expect me to believe—”
“Believe what you want, woman. But never call me a liar again. I have many vices, but lying isn’t one of them.”
“My sister’s bairn? Was it a lad or a lassie?”
He swore mightily. “It was a babe. A crying, red-faced infant. How the hell would I know whether it was a boy or a girl?”
She pursed her lips and looked at him shrewdly. “A good answer, but one that proves nothing. What of my brother, Corey? He’s seven years old. He’s safe with my sister, is he?”
Sterling shook his head. “I didn’t see a child. Just the baby. I’m sorry, but—”
“’Tis all right,” she replied. “I sent him away before the soldiers came.”
“Then why in hell did you ask me—”
“I was but testing you, Sassenach.”
He felt the heat of blood rising in his neck and cheeks. “I told you I wasn’t a liar.”
She nodded. “So ye did. So ye did.”
She fell silent then, and Sterling rode in peace for the better part of an hour. The rugged Border land was becoming more settled now. Dwellings were closer together, and from time to time they passed herds of cattle and sheep. They were on English soil—had been for some time—but he knew better than to relax. This country had seen too much blood spilled. Scots and Brits had fought over every inch of this land, and before that, Saxons had clashed with Normans. Hell, he supposed Roman legions had battled the pagan tribes across these hills and wooded valleys.
It wasn’t Romans or Scots that he was worried about today; it was outlaws. Not that the barons in the vicinity would trouble their consciences over a little mayhem and robbery. A man and woman traveling alone on good horses were always a target on the back roads of England, and if he didn’t keep alert, he might wind up in a ditch with his pockets empty and his throat cut.
The lack of sleep was telling on him, and his head was splitting. He was getting old, he supposed. Ten years ago, he’d thought nothing of going without proper rest for days and then spending the night carousing with his comrades. He was tired and hungry. Another outburst of vile temper from his bride, and he swore he’d drown her in the next farm pond they came to.
Cailin broke the silence between them when the sun was sinking in the west and the trees cast long shadows across the faint, rutted trail. “If ye did as ye said—if ye helped my sister, grandsire, and the bairn—I will let ye live, Englishman.”
Her audacity made him laugh. “That’s magnanimous of you.”
“Ye did murder my father, but ’twas fair. It was battle, as you stated. And any man would do the same. I was a fool to blame ye.”
“It took you long enough to come to that conclusion.”
“Aye.” She nodded solemnly. “’Tis hard to reason when dealing with a Sassenach. You be the lowest form of human scum.”
Just ahead, a covey of grouse broke from cover and exploded into the air. Both horses shied, and Cailin’s horse reared up. Sterling pulled hard on his mount’s reins to check the animal’s excited plunging and then reached out to tighten the lead line that held her mare. “Whoa, whoa, girl,” he soothed.
Cailin sat her saddle as erect and calm as if she were tied into it—as she was—without showing the slightest expression of fear. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, revealing her glorious hair, and he was struck again by her likeness to the girl in his long-ago vision.
“Are you all right?” he asked. She should have been in tears. But she wasn’t. She was still watching him with the ferocity of a hunting hawk. “Would you think me worse if I told you that my mother was a savage—a red Indian from America?”
Her brow wrinkled as she
“Ye expect me to believe—”
“Believe what you want, woman. But never call me a liar again. I have many vices, but lying isn’t one of them.”
“My sister’s bairn? Was it a lad or a lassie?”
He swore mightily. “It was a babe. A crying, red-faced infant. How the hell would I know whether it was a boy or a girl?”
She pursed her lips and looked at him shrewdly. “A good answer, but one that proves nothing. What of my brother, Corey? He’s seven years old. He’s safe with my sister, is he?”
Sterling shook his head. “I didn’t see a child. Just the baby. I’m sorry, but—”
“’Tis all right,” she replied. “I sent him away before the soldiers came.”
“Then why in hell did you ask me—”
“I was but testing you, Sassenach.”
He felt the heat of blood rising in his neck and cheeks. “I told you I wasn’t a liar.”
She nodded. “So ye did. So ye did.”
She fell silent then, and Sterling rode in peace for the better part of an hour. The rugged Border land was becoming more settled now. Dwellings were closer together, and from time to time they passed herds of cattle and sheep. They were on English soil—had been for some time—but he knew better than to relax. This country had seen too much blood spilled. Scots and Brits had fought over every inch of this land, and before that, Saxons had clashed with Normans. Hell, he supposed Roman legions had battled the pagan tribes across these hills and wooded valleys.
It wasn’t Romans or Scots that he was worried about today; it was outlaws. Not that the barons in the vicinity would trouble their consciences over a little mayhem and robbery. A man and woman traveling alone on good horses were always a target on the back roads of England, and if he didn’t keep alert, he might wind up in a ditch with his pockets empty and his throat cut.
The lack of sleep was telling on him, and his head was splitting. He was getting old, he supposed. Ten years ago, he’d thought nothing of going without proper rest for days and then spending the night carousing with his comrades. He was tired and hungry. Another outburst of vile temper from his bride, and he swore he’d drown her in the next farm pond they came to.
Cailin broke the silence between them when the sun was sinking in the west and the trees cast long shadows across the faint, rutted trail. “If ye did as ye said—if ye helped my sister, grandsire, and the bairn—I will let ye live, Englishman.”
Her audacity made him laugh. “That’s magnanimous of you.”
“Ye did murder my father, but ’twas fair. It was battle, as you stated. And any man would do the same. I was a fool to blame ye.”
“It took you long enough to come to that conclusion.”
“Aye.” She nodded solemnly. “’Tis hard to reason when dealing with a Sassenach. You be the lowest form of human scum.”
Just ahead, a covey of grouse broke from cover and exploded into the air. Both horses shied, and Cailin’s horse reared up. Sterling pulled hard on his mount’s reins to check the animal’s excited plunging and then reached out to tighten the lead line that held her mare. “Whoa, whoa, girl,” he soothed.
Cailin sat her saddle as erect and calm as if she were tied into it—as she was—without showing the slightest expression of fear. The hood of her cloak had fallen back, revealing her glorious hair, and he was struck again by her likeness to the girl in his long-ago vision.
“Are you all right?” he asked. She should have been in tears. But she wasn’t. She was still watching him with the ferocity of a hunting hawk. “Would you think me worse if I told you that my mother was a savage—a red Indian from America?”
Her brow wrinkled as she
Similar Books
