Read Online Thief by Linda Windsor - Free Book Online Page A

“And I would like to speak to the lady when she is finished this night.” What was it the reeve called the dwarf? “Gemma.”
    Gemma’s dark eyes narrowed. “You have the advantage of me, sir, for I do not know your name.”
    “Caden.” A man without a true home, Caden hesitated. “Of Lothian.” For now.
    “Well, Caden of Lothian, milady does not meet men after her work here is done. She and I go straight home as decent women do.”
    Caden nearly laughed. For someone so small, Gemma’s indignation was big … and sharp enough to whittle a man’s esteem down to her size. “I assure you, Gemma, my intentions are completely honorable.”
    One of the dwarf’s eyebrows arched with skepticism.
    “I’m come to deliver an inheritance to the lady.”
    In essence it was so. Trebold would be hers—if this impending marriage did not stand in the way.
    Gemma’s other brow hiked. “You might as well go on and practice your lies on someone else. Milady has no other family than myself.”
    Caden pulled the strings to his purse closed and let it fall into his lap. The hard jingle of coin was not lost on Gemma. “There is more coin … just to talk. That is all I ask.”
    “Good,” the dwarf replied. “Because that is all you will receive.”
    Caden watched as the little woman wove her way through the crowd to where the lovely minstrel finished another melody for a group of foreign merchants nearby. It was a hearty song that they sang with her about a cuckolded husband, if he heard right. One tossed a silver ring into her cup, and no wonder. The lady had a gift.
    Still laughing at something one of the men said, Sorcha lent an ear to Gemma. The joviality on her face remained, but her startled gaze shot Caden’s way. His news had unnerved her, even frightened her, if he was any judge of women. Then something caused her green gaze to snap, sparks lashing out at him.
    Caden hid his surprise behind a sip from his mug. By any standard, this was a strange reaction to learning one was about to receive an inheritance. That he’d found Sorcha’s whereabouts on his first day in Din Guardi almost convinced him that maybe God was helping out a bit, opening a door for this second chance the priest spoke of. Though the bribe and mentioning the lady had an inheritance coming to her certainly didn’t hurt … until now.
    Sorcha struck up a familiar tune, all the while glaring his way. It was in Cumbric, earning a cheer from the Cymris’ far side of the room. She sang of a handsome swain and master of lies, who left a trail of broken hearts in his wake … until he met a maid who was his match and left him broken and alone.
    Whatever Gemma had told her, it had not set well with the lassie.
    Caden would never understand women. He’d have wagered Sorcha might leap at the chance for an inheritance, if it meant not having to marry an old codger as a brood sow.
    By his father’s bones, Father Martin’s proverbial door of service to mankind that led out of the dungeon of one’s self became more cumbersome by the hour.

    Sorcha didn’t know who the lion-maned stranger was, except that he was no friend of hers. An inheritance indeed. If her birth parents thought anything of her, they’d have come for her, not waited till they’d gone earthways to reach out to her. And sending a pouch of coins! As if that could take away the fears she’d lived out until she realized that Wulfram’s and Aelwyn’s harsh-sounding words were meant to comfort her. That they meant to love her and nurture her as their own.
    Like as not, this Caden had already helped himself to what there was of the money. That is, what he didn’t toss to the serving wench Utta for her more than willing service. But then, Utta was one of those women born flirting. And with some customers, she deserved every copper her winks and smiles earned.
    Sorcha winced as she plucked the wrong chord to the ballad she sang and forced her attention back to her work. Not that anyone