Read Online The Beautiful Stranger by Julia London - Free Book Online
Authors: Julia London
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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her with a hand on her arm. Madam! Theres naught but wilderness about you now! If you wait for that coach, you do so at your own peril! he pleaded.
As if anything else could happen to herLord, even Job had not suffered so many trials! Kerry smiled at the two gentlemen as she shook off the one mans hand, then fairly leapt from the coach. Gentlemen, I thank you for your kind concern, but I am rather determined to reach Pitlochry by nightfall. And she continued smiling as the driver fetched her satchel from the back running boards.
The larger of the two men threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. The driver, however, seemed rather pleased with her decision. Our service willna fail you, lass, he said cheerfully, and grinning broadly, tipped his hat to the men before slamming the coach door shut. He showed Kerry to a spot where the road from the east curved into another road running north. Wait here, and hell be along in an hour or so, mark me.
Youll be right safe, doona you worry, he added, placing her satchel at her feet.
Thank you. She inclined her head to his jaunty wave good-bye, then watched him and another driver turn the coach around and roll slowly in the direction from which they had come.
As the coach disappeared from sight, Kerry glanced around at the unfamiliar and very deserted surroundings. The shadows were already lengthening; it wouldnt be long before the mist would roll in, shrouding everything. She peered into the dark forest behind her, unable to see past the dark greenery of the first line of trees. The foliage was thick and deep, seeming almost impassable from where she stood.
And as she peered into the dark shadows, she was struck with the memory of Mary Blain, a schoolmate
of hers years ago who had a penchant for telling the most ghoulish stories.
Kerry scoffed, turned away, and looked up the road. She was not going to stand here like a child and think of beasties and fairies and trolls living under bridges. How absurd! Nor would she allow Thomass dire warnings of robbers and generally unsavory characters bother her. This was a minor inconvenience, nothing more. That sound that kept coming from the woods behind her was just a squirrel. The Crieff coach would be along in no time at all.
She had nothing to worry about.
Just like the driver said.
But the coach was not there in an hour. Or two. Or even four.
Arthur was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was not overly fond of Scotlandor perhaps it was just Scots he took issue with. The country was beautiful. He could not deny that. Deep, swift running rivers cutting through dark green rolling hills, tall stately trees. But the people, well he had learned that they were a stubborn lot and not exactly enamored of the English. One of them even had the audacity to call him a Sassenach.
No, he was not overly fond of the Scots, a conclusion he firmly reached standing in the paddock of a stable just outside Perth. Absently slapping his gloves against the palm of his hand, he waited for the impudent stable master to bring him the mount he had purchased at a swindlers rate. Not that hed had any choice. It had taken him a full day just to find a stable where he might purchase a mount, as the Scots apparently didnt have the same need of horses as the English. He routinely received a blank stare when he inquired as to where he might locate a stable for the purpose of purchasing a mount.
Howd you get here, then? one man had asked, apparently puzzled that a man might have need to actually purchase a horse.
I hired a private coach.
Wont that do for ye now, milord? the man replied, scratching the top of his balding head. Good God.
In all honesty, Arthur had rather enjoyed Edinburgh and certainly the journey to Glasgow and up the River Clyde. One particular ship builder was ecstatic when, after showing Arthur about his shipyard and onto a new clipper, Arthur had arranged to purchase one for the Christian Brothers fleet. So ecstatic that he threw a fete
As if anything else could happen to herLord, even Job had not suffered so many trials! Kerry smiled at the two gentlemen as she shook off the one mans hand, then fairly leapt from the coach. Gentlemen, I thank you for your kind concern, but I am rather determined to reach Pitlochry by nightfall. And she continued smiling as the driver fetched her satchel from the back running boards.
The larger of the two men threw up his hands in a gesture of defeat. The driver, however, seemed rather pleased with her decision. Our service willna fail you, lass, he said cheerfully, and grinning broadly, tipped his hat to the men before slamming the coach door shut. He showed Kerry to a spot where the road from the east curved into another road running north. Wait here, and hell be along in an hour or so, mark me.
Youll be right safe, doona you worry, he added, placing her satchel at her feet.
Thank you. She inclined her head to his jaunty wave good-bye, then watched him and another driver turn the coach around and roll slowly in the direction from which they had come.
As the coach disappeared from sight, Kerry glanced around at the unfamiliar and very deserted surroundings. The shadows were already lengthening; it wouldnt be long before the mist would roll in, shrouding everything. She peered into the dark forest behind her, unable to see past the dark greenery of the first line of trees. The foliage was thick and deep, seeming almost impassable from where she stood.
And as she peered into the dark shadows, she was struck with the memory of Mary Blain, a schoolmate
of hers years ago who had a penchant for telling the most ghoulish stories.
Kerry scoffed, turned away, and looked up the road. She was not going to stand here like a child and think of beasties and fairies and trolls living under bridges. How absurd! Nor would she allow Thomass dire warnings of robbers and generally unsavory characters bother her. This was a minor inconvenience, nothing more. That sound that kept coming from the woods behind her was just a squirrel. The Crieff coach would be along in no time at all.
She had nothing to worry about.
Just like the driver said.
But the coach was not there in an hour. Or two. Or even four.
Arthur was rapidly coming to the conclusion that he was not overly fond of Scotlandor perhaps it was just Scots he took issue with. The country was beautiful. He could not deny that. Deep, swift running rivers cutting through dark green rolling hills, tall stately trees. But the people, well he had learned that they were a stubborn lot and not exactly enamored of the English. One of them even had the audacity to call him a Sassenach.
No, he was not overly fond of the Scots, a conclusion he firmly reached standing in the paddock of a stable just outside Perth. Absently slapping his gloves against the palm of his hand, he waited for the impudent stable master to bring him the mount he had purchased at a swindlers rate. Not that hed had any choice. It had taken him a full day just to find a stable where he might purchase a mount, as the Scots apparently didnt have the same need of horses as the English. He routinely received a blank stare when he inquired as to where he might locate a stable for the purpose of purchasing a mount.
Howd you get here, then? one man had asked, apparently puzzled that a man might have need to actually purchase a horse.
I hired a private coach.
Wont that do for ye now, milord? the man replied, scratching the top of his balding head. Good God.
In all honesty, Arthur had rather enjoyed Edinburgh and certainly the journey to Glasgow and up the River Clyde. One particular ship builder was ecstatic when, after showing Arthur about his shipyard and onto a new clipper, Arthur had arranged to purchase one for the Christian Brothers fleet. So ecstatic that he threw a fete
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