Ascent of the Unwanted (The Chronicle of Unfortunate Heroes Book 1) Read Free Page A

naked before him came to her. Miranda moved her arms across her chest again.
    Her father cleared his throat.
    “It is not my place to interrupt my lord’s business. Please excuse me.” Miranda said.
    “A thing is only an interruption if it is unpleasant.” Gordon said. “I can see nothing unpleasant about you, or what has transpired. Please stay. We have just finished the tediousness of formal introductions and paying respects.” Gordon grabbed her hand and helped her up.
    Miranda could not think of anything to say so she giggled.
    “What is this fair creature’s name, sir smith?” Gordon finally asked.
    “My daughter’s name is Miranda, sir. Please, if we could finish our business I am sure my daughter has chores she must attend to.” her father said giving her a serious look. She hated to have to leave the lord’s presence but at least her father had given her an excuse to be away from the gaze of the dark man.
    “Well, Miranda, I am Gordon. Please, stay a little longer.” he said.
    The dark man spoke up. “Would my lord like to test the steel’s edge?”
    “I can assure my lord, that sword’s keen and will hold its edge.” Her father said.
    “Most assuredly.” Gordon responded. “Still, it never hurts to be thorough. Come here, Jules.”
    Jules approached with apprehension. Gordon unsheathed the sword and rested his blade on the man’s shoulder. Slowly the blade moved down the man’s chest cutting cloth, a thin streak of red followed. Jules moved back from the pain with a look of shock.
    Gordon’s face hardened. Worry flashed across the poor man’s face but he resumed his stance.
    Miranda tried to keep in the squeak that escaped her throat but it found its way out. Gordon looked at her.
    “Well smith, I like the feel of your steel. I especially like the way you added our new house banner on the hilt. I will pay you our original bartered price plus five more gold.” He sheathed the blade and pulled a pouch from his belt. Emptying the contents into his hand he clucked to himself. “It appears I am a few gold short of what I have just promised. That will teach me to speak before knowing my current situation. Can I write you a payment note?”
    With a curt nod her father acquiesced. A little rummaging in the shop produced a pen and parchment for the man’s use.
    Gordon went to a man other than Jules or the dark one and bid him turn to be used as an impromptu desk. With grace and ease Gordon held the parchment and inkwell with one hand, using the other hand to write his note of payment. He took his time but she supposed for cases in which money changed hands time was a commodity which could be wasted.
    Gordon finished his note, flipped the parchment, and blotted it on the deskman‘s shirt. He read his work and tore a thin sliver of paper off the bottom, folding it into a tiny packet.
    “I’ll keep this as a reminder to myself.” Gordon said, handing her father the rest of the note.
    Her father read it and nodded. “Thank you, lord.”
    “You owe more to Father Oak than to myself.” Gordon said. “Now Miranda, if you would allow me to thank you with a small token of appreciation.”
    She accepted another kiss to her hand. She felt something small and rough enter the long sleeve of her dress near her wrist. A small look of amazement crossed her face. Gordon looked up from her hand, into her eyes, giving her a wink.
    “Good day, m’lord.” Miranda said curtsying with a little flush. She turned to leave, slamming into the now closed shop door. Again, embarrassment swept through her. Could nothing have gone her way? She opened the door and ran to the safe cover of the house.
    She sprinted into her room, closing the door behind her. The few corsets she had littered her floor. Brothers were a bother, obnoxious, and destroyed things which were not theirs. She has had to replace no fewer than half a dozen of her corsets. They were stretched to beyond use He used them as hammocks to weigh