Read Online The Beautiful Stranger by Julia London - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Julia London
Tags: Romance, Contemporary
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corner of the mans mouth, but Arthur had faced tougher mounts than this and swung up, immediately reining the horse hard right when she began to buck beneath him, squeezing her with his knees at the same time and signaling that he was in command. After several minutes of snorting and jerking her head about, dipping her shoulders to dislodge him, and kicking her back legs out as if she intended to buck him, the mare finally calmed. Relatively speaking. Arthur glanced down at the stable master. He no longer looked smug, but mildly awed.
I rather think you misrepresented your stock, sir. You gave me a price I would expect for an experienced filly.
W-whats that? Shes broke, I swear it! the man blustered.
Arthur rolled his eyes and nodded toward the paddock gate. He had the mare under control for the moment, and the difference was not enough to haggle over. If you would be so kind, he drawled, and spurred the nervous mare forward, fighting for control with every step.
Once the gate opened, the mare bolted from the paddock, galloping down the rural lane. By the time they had reached the main road going north, Hellion, as Arthur quickly named her, was handling somewhat better but remained skittish. Traffic scared her; if another horse approached, it was all he could do to keep her in check. They struggled for what seemed hours to him, until she was finally trotting smoothly beneath him, resigned to her fate.
The road wound through an increasingly rural countryside, past deep vales and crystal clear streams. As the road grew narrower, the pines grew taller. The region seemed completely deserted, and had it not been for the old woman draped in plaid walking along the road with the aid of a dog just as old as she, Arthur would have believed it so.
By late afternoon, he was beginning to wonder if he hadnt missed a turn. He reined the mare to a stop at a small stream beside an old stone cross marking the location of God knew what, and let Hellion drink her fill as he studied the crude map the hotel clerk had drawn. An X supposedly marked Dunkeld, the village where the clerk had suggested he seek further direction. By Arthurs calculations, the village should have been just about where he was standing. He glanced at the sun, gauging his direction. Head north, the clerk had said, to Kinelaven. Kinelaven was, judging by the map, immediately adjacent to Dunkeld, which looked to be no more than ten miles from Perth.
With a soft groan, Arthur rubbed the nape of his neck. He was fairly certain he was that distance and more from Perth. Then again, perhaps it only felt that far because of all the trouble with Hellion. He led the mare back onto the road to continue north, deciding that if he hadnt reached a landmark in another hour, he would turn back.
After another hour, having passed nothing more than the stone foundation of what once had been a keep, he was irritably despising of the whole of Scotland, and in particular, Perthshire, when he reached a large V in the road. There was no Y on his map, nothing but an X for Dunkeld and another for Kinelaven. Oh yes, and a very helpful arrow pointing north, as if he hadnt already ridden across the bloody continent because of that goddamned arrow. He jerked his head to the right, glaring at the road leading north.
All right. There was no point denying it. He was plainly lost.
Hopelessly so it seemed, as there had been absolutely no evidence of civilization with the exception of the woman in plaid, and that had been two hours past. What, had he ridden into the wilds? Uncharted territory? Encroached upon the bloody moon, perhaps?
Hellion began to graze on a patch of long blade grass as Arthur pondered his predicament. He turned to view the route curving to the north, and
What? Something lying on the edge of the road. A satchel?
Arthur leaned to one side and cocked his head to assess it. It was indeed a satchel, red and leather-trimmed, and seemingly stuffed full. The discovery elated him where
I rather think you misrepresented your stock, sir. You gave me a price I would expect for an experienced filly.
W-whats that? Shes broke, I swear it! the man blustered.
Arthur rolled his eyes and nodded toward the paddock gate. He had the mare under control for the moment, and the difference was not enough to haggle over. If you would be so kind, he drawled, and spurred the nervous mare forward, fighting for control with every step.
Once the gate opened, the mare bolted from the paddock, galloping down the rural lane. By the time they had reached the main road going north, Hellion, as Arthur quickly named her, was handling somewhat better but remained skittish. Traffic scared her; if another horse approached, it was all he could do to keep her in check. They struggled for what seemed hours to him, until she was finally trotting smoothly beneath him, resigned to her fate.
The road wound through an increasingly rural countryside, past deep vales and crystal clear streams. As the road grew narrower, the pines grew taller. The region seemed completely deserted, and had it not been for the old woman draped in plaid walking along the road with the aid of a dog just as old as she, Arthur would have believed it so.
By late afternoon, he was beginning to wonder if he hadnt missed a turn. He reined the mare to a stop at a small stream beside an old stone cross marking the location of God knew what, and let Hellion drink her fill as he studied the crude map the hotel clerk had drawn. An X supposedly marked Dunkeld, the village where the clerk had suggested he seek further direction. By Arthurs calculations, the village should have been just about where he was standing. He glanced at the sun, gauging his direction. Head north, the clerk had said, to Kinelaven. Kinelaven was, judging by the map, immediately adjacent to Dunkeld, which looked to be no more than ten miles from Perth.
With a soft groan, Arthur rubbed the nape of his neck. He was fairly certain he was that distance and more from Perth. Then again, perhaps it only felt that far because of all the trouble with Hellion. He led the mare back onto the road to continue north, deciding that if he hadnt reached a landmark in another hour, he would turn back.
After another hour, having passed nothing more than the stone foundation of what once had been a keep, he was irritably despising of the whole of Scotland, and in particular, Perthshire, when he reached a large V in the road. There was no Y on his map, nothing but an X for Dunkeld and another for Kinelaven. Oh yes, and a very helpful arrow pointing north, as if he hadnt already ridden across the bloody continent because of that goddamned arrow. He jerked his head to the right, glaring at the road leading north.
All right. There was no point denying it. He was plainly lost.
Hopelessly so it seemed, as there had been absolutely no evidence of civilization with the exception of the woman in plaid, and that had been two hours past. What, had he ridden into the wilds? Uncharted territory? Encroached upon the bloody moon, perhaps?
Hellion began to graze on a patch of long blade grass as Arthur pondered his predicament. He turned to view the route curving to the north, and
What? Something lying on the edge of the road. A satchel?
Arthur leaned to one side and cocked his head to assess it. It was indeed a satchel, red and leather-trimmed, and seemingly stuffed full. The discovery elated him where
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