Read Online The Faithful Heart by Merry Farmer - Free Book Online

He’d been standing there for ten minutes at least.
His feet were beginning to throb. At least they were the only thing
throbbing at the moment.
    He walked over to the wall and leaned against
it, sighing and biting the rough edge of one of his nails, trying
to decide if the entire day was a waste or not.
    Ethan had gotten away scot-free. He scowled
and kicked the floor. Crispin never should have let that lot go.
They’d done nothing but cause trouble. That very afternoon, after
he’d gotten Lydia sorted, he’d been accosted by two nobs who made
his ears bleed complaining about how outlaws had robbed them on the
way to the castle. The way they’d spoken to him you would’ve
thought he held the knife to their throat personally. Bloody
wankers. All of them.
    He was pulled out of his thoughts and snapped
straight when the door opened and Lydia stepped into the hall. One
look at her and he had to grasp his rosary to keep from falling
over. The kirtle she wore was simple, but the way she wore it made
his skin hot. The neckline was cut far lower than it should have
been, and she had what it took to wear it well. Her soft
honey-blonde hair fell loose over milky shoulders. She lowered her
eyes until her long lashes spread across her soft cheeks. Her lips
were a tantalizing red.
    “Well look at you!” he croaked and cleared
his throat.
    Lydia’s cat-like grin shifted to a worried
frown. “Do I look pretty?” She turned to the side and slid her
hands over the tight kirtle. “Will they think I’m a lady?”
    “I wouldn’t go that far,” he muttered to
himself. He swallowed and grinned in spite of his odd urge to run.
“You are one beautiful woman, Lydia.” He held out his arm to her.
“They’ll love you.”
    “If you say so,” she sighed and took his arm
with both of her hands. Before he could start down the hallway to
the Great Hall she leaned close and kissed his cheek.
    “Oy! What’s that for?”
    “For giving me the dress.” She sent him a
dazzling smile. “For coming to my rescue.”
    “What, that?” He brushed her off and blew out
a breath. “That were nothing.”
    Again he thought her smile faltered, but she
was bright again before he could decide for sure. She tilted her
head to his shoulder and tightened her fingers around his arm.
“Will you introduce me to the Countess?”
    “Of course I will. Aubrey’s a good friend of
mine.” She stood so close to his side as they walked down the hall
that it sent shivers of … of something he didn’t want to think
about down his spine.
    “You’re so sweet to me, my lord.” She hugged
his arms as they walked down the last few stairs and into the
hall.
     
    Madeline had never been more out of place
than in the swirl of color and laughter of the Great Hall. How
Aubrey could smile and talk utter nonsense to the endless stream of
nobles who climbed up the gallery stairs to greet her and Crispin
was a mystery. She never would have been able to do it. Then again,
she never would have pegged herself as the type to flee the convent
in the dead of night without so much as a handkerchief either.
Necessity made people do the strangest things. Necessity and
love.
    She glanced out over the floor of the Great
Hall, her eyes searching for a glimpse of ginger hair.
    “Didn’t you say Jack would be at the
banquet?” She leaned closer to Aubrey as a portly old noble and his
frail wife bowed and took their leave of her.
    “He should be,” Aubrey answered but was
distracted before she could say more. “Lady Wyndham,” she cooed to
the woman who had climbed to the gallery to greet her, “How nice of
you to come.”
    Madeline sighed and leaned over the gallery
railing to get a better look at the crowd.
    “How could anyone pass up an invitation to
one of your celebrations, Countess,” Lady Wyndham’s voice dripped
with irony. She turned to Madeline and glanced down her slender
nose. “Who is your charming friend?”
    “This is Lady Madeline of