Read Online Stand and Deliver by Leda Swann - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Leda Swann
Tags: Romance
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could almost feel the warmth of Bess’ soft body pressed against his own.
Chapter Five
They came at sunset, just as Bess was scraping clean the turnips to add to the pot of stew bubbling on the stove.
Half a dozen and more of them, their uniforms shabby and worn, but their muskets disturbingly bright and shiny. At their head rode the local squire and magistrate of the area.
A nasty piece of work he was, with wandering hands and a vicious temper when he was crossed. Last time he had come to the inn, he had pinched her bottom so sharply he had left her covered in bruises. She had dared not complain, fearing worse treatment at his hands if she roused his temper, already foul enough after her polite refusal to whore for him.
Even so, he’d not taken her refusal in good part. That same evening, he’d trumped up an excuse to have her father whipped, and had wielded the whip himself, his eyes fil ed with savage glee. Her father had not been able to walk without limping for a ful month afterward.
Bess bent her head to her turnips, trying in vain to stil the racing of her heart. Jack was gone. She had nothing to fear from the magistrate but a few more vicious pinches and another leering proposition to share his bed.
It must be a coincidence that the soldiers had arrived on her doorstep on the same day that Jack was due to return. She dared not consider the alternative. No doubt they were out recruiting for young men to join their ranks.
She would feed them and send them on their way once more, with a few of the dul er local boys marching beside them after having been tricked into taking the King’s shil ing and joining their ranks.
Soldiers were bad for business. As they entered the tavern, the locals gradual y melted away into the shadows until the soldiers had the place virtual y to themselves. Even her father melted away into the darkness with the rest, no doubt fearing another beating.
The magistrate cal ed loudly for ale for his men. Bess hurried out from the kitchen with a pitcher she had just drawn from the barrel in the cel ar.
The magistrate watched as she poured the ale into a pewter mug and set it in front of him. “That’s the highwayman’s whore,” he said to his men, jostling her with his elbow so that she spil ed some ale from her jug on the table. “A clumsy bitch, to be sure.”
She stood stock stil for a moment, just staring at the ale as it dripped over the edge of the table on to the floor, as her world col apsed around her. They had found out about Jack. Somehow or other, they had found out about him. And they were here to take him.
Jack had promised her that he would come back to see her before he sailed for the Americas. She had pushed him to make that promise. And now that promise she had forced him to make would be the death of him.
One of the men took advantage of her slowness to wrap his arm around her waist. “She’s a pretty enough wench, for al that she prefers low company.” He leered at her bosom. “How about it, sweetheart? You’l be looking for a new man to warm your bed soon enough. You be nice to me and I’l show you what a real man in your bed can do for you.”
Jack would not stand a chance against half a dozen soldiers with muskets, especial y not if he were to be taken by surprise. Somehow or other, she needed to lul their suspicions for long enough to warn Jack they were after him. Though her stomach was churning and she wanted more than anything to be sick, she extricated herself with a saucy wink and a smile. “Your comrades might not appreciate it if you distract the woman who is in charge of feeding you al supper tonight.” She looked around at them al invitingly, her mind working furiously. “You look hungry, gentlemen.”
A murmur of assent went around the group and even the man leering at her breasts licked his lips at the thought of a good hot meal.
“I have yesterday’s rabbit stew that just needs to be
Chapter Five
They came at sunset, just as Bess was scraping clean the turnips to add to the pot of stew bubbling on the stove.
Half a dozen and more of them, their uniforms shabby and worn, but their muskets disturbingly bright and shiny. At their head rode the local squire and magistrate of the area.
A nasty piece of work he was, with wandering hands and a vicious temper when he was crossed. Last time he had come to the inn, he had pinched her bottom so sharply he had left her covered in bruises. She had dared not complain, fearing worse treatment at his hands if she roused his temper, already foul enough after her polite refusal to whore for him.
Even so, he’d not taken her refusal in good part. That same evening, he’d trumped up an excuse to have her father whipped, and had wielded the whip himself, his eyes fil ed with savage glee. Her father had not been able to walk without limping for a ful month afterward.
Bess bent her head to her turnips, trying in vain to stil the racing of her heart. Jack was gone. She had nothing to fear from the magistrate but a few more vicious pinches and another leering proposition to share his bed.
It must be a coincidence that the soldiers had arrived on her doorstep on the same day that Jack was due to return. She dared not consider the alternative. No doubt they were out recruiting for young men to join their ranks.
She would feed them and send them on their way once more, with a few of the dul er local boys marching beside them after having been tricked into taking the King’s shil ing and joining their ranks.
Soldiers were bad for business. As they entered the tavern, the locals gradual y melted away into the shadows until the soldiers had the place virtual y to themselves. Even her father melted away into the darkness with the rest, no doubt fearing another beating.
The magistrate cal ed loudly for ale for his men. Bess hurried out from the kitchen with a pitcher she had just drawn from the barrel in the cel ar.
The magistrate watched as she poured the ale into a pewter mug and set it in front of him. “That’s the highwayman’s whore,” he said to his men, jostling her with his elbow so that she spil ed some ale from her jug on the table. “A clumsy bitch, to be sure.”
She stood stock stil for a moment, just staring at the ale as it dripped over the edge of the table on to the floor, as her world col apsed around her. They had found out about Jack. Somehow or other, they had found out about him. And they were here to take him.
Jack had promised her that he would come back to see her before he sailed for the Americas. She had pushed him to make that promise. And now that promise she had forced him to make would be the death of him.
One of the men took advantage of her slowness to wrap his arm around her waist. “She’s a pretty enough wench, for al that she prefers low company.” He leered at her bosom. “How about it, sweetheart? You’l be looking for a new man to warm your bed soon enough. You be nice to me and I’l show you what a real man in your bed can do for you.”
Jack would not stand a chance against half a dozen soldiers with muskets, especial y not if he were to be taken by surprise. Somehow or other, she needed to lul their suspicions for long enough to warn Jack they were after him. Though her stomach was churning and she wanted more than anything to be sick, she extricated herself with a saucy wink and a smile. “Your comrades might not appreciate it if you distract the woman who is in charge of feeding you al supper tonight.” She looked around at them al invitingly, her mind working furiously. “You look hungry, gentlemen.”
A murmur of assent went around the group and even the man leering at her breasts licked his lips at the thought of a good hot meal.
“I have yesterday’s rabbit stew that just needs to be
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