Read Online Petals on the River by Kathleen E. Woodiwiss - Free Book Online Page A

the wharf and the nearby warehouses seemed especially
    wicked.   She was ill prepared for the inclement weather and those
    blustering blasts that sliced with brutal vengeance through her
    garments.   No comfortable haven seemed attainable, and she could only
    shiver and clench her teeth against their chilling breath.   Even her
    frantic efforts to subdue her recalcitrant skirts proved futile, for the
    frayed hem buffeted her slender calves and, now and then, swirled
    chaotically aloft, as if it had assumed a puckish life of its own and
    took mischievous delight in thwarting her.
     
    Gage had always been a man to admire a finely turned ankle and did not
    deny himself the opportunity to appease that propensity now.   It had,
    after all, been a considerable passage of time since he had been able to
    indulge himself with a worthy glimpse.   Yet he was not exactly sure
    which held his attention more intently, the shapeliness of the slender
    calves or the telltale red weals that had been caused by a lengthy
    chafing of iron shackles.   Dark bruises marred the flesh of her lower
    leg, hinting of a more recent injury.   Beneath his stare, the slender
    toes curled inwardly, making him mindful of the girl's growing
    discomfiture.
     
    Reluctantly he lifted his eyes to meet the guarded green gaze.
     
    "Have you no shoes?" he asked, sincerely hoping he wouldn't have to lay
    out another portion of his meager wealth to buy her a pair.   The idea
    caused him to frown as he mentally debated how he might manage such a
    purchase.
     
    Shemaine smoothed back the snarled strands of hair that were flying
    across her face as she peered up at her new master.   His scowl was
    ominous enough to make her turn tail and run.   "I'm sorry, Mr.
    Thornton," she murmured, hating the uncontrollable quaver in her voice.
     
    "My boots were stolen from me at Newgate shortly after my arrest." She
    reminded herself that she had done nothing deserving of her seizure or
    this shame which had been forced upon her.   But the truth did not ease
    her humiliation, nor did the proximity of several older couples who had
    just arrived on the dock.   In spite of their gaping curiosity and the
    battering wind that cut through her like an icy saber, she explained
    haltingly.   "I can assure you, sir .   .   .   the boots were a loss I
    sorely regretted.   They were unique and very fine....   It cost my father
    a fair sum to have my initials etched in a pair of tiny gold pendants
    and for the cobbler to find a way to attach them to each boot at the
    ankles.   At the time, it seemed wiser by far to hand them over without
    protest.   Each of the two women who demanded them outweighed me twice
    over, and they were in such a frenzy to trade them for gin .   .   . I was
    convinced my life would be in jeopardy if I did not comply. Their theft
    made me grateful my riding habit had been torn and soiled during my
    capture.
     
    Otherwise, they'd have seen some profit in selling my clothes, too, and
    I'd be standing here now less than fully clothed."
     
    Those amber-flecked orbs of lucent brown swept her from crown to toe,
    giving little indication of the colonial's thoughts.   "A pity, for
    sure."
     
    "Sir?" Shemaine was confused by the precise drift of his meaning and
    felt a prickling of apprehension as she questioned him.   "Is it the loss
    of my boots you bemoan or the fact that I'm fully clothed?"
     
    His smile was far too fleeting to convey any warmth.   "Why, the loss of
    your boots, of course."
     
    Shemaine wondered suddenly what sort of man had purchased her. Beneath
    that darkly stoic and inaccessible demeanor he now presented, would she
    find a disreputable rake?   Was she destined to be used by Gage Thornton
    in the same way Captain Fitch had intended?   Or was there a waggish
    sense of humor that was wont to defy his conveniently assumed reticence?
    He seemed well acquainted with what he wanted out of life indeed had
    already proven his