Copper Kingdom Read Free Page B

strong fingers, which were still grimed with earth.
    â€˜I’ll say a prayer, Dad.’ She spoke softly and after a moment, Davie nodded and bowed his great head.
    Her voice, lilting and small in the silence, asked the Good Lord to look down on Jinny Llewelyn and to be with her always. Mali moved away then, sensing that Davie wanted to be alone.
    â€˜I’ll come after you in a minute, Mali,’ he said softly, and it was as though they both recognised that she had become a woman.
    As Mali walked past the lines of wooden crosses, she shivered a little and drew her shawl closer around her shoulders. The sound of hooves clopping along the pathway drew her attention and looking up, she saw that the procession of mourners from the Richardson funeral was returning along the path towards the gate.
    Suddenly a dark shape loomed up out of the twilight, bounding towards her. Mali had cried out in alarm before realising that it was only a large dog, coming to a halt before her with tongue lolling as though waiting to be patted.
    â€˜Sam, to heel boy!’ The voice was strong and masculine, fine and English. Mali stood with her hand on the dog’s head as the tall figure approached her.
    â€˜Sorry if Sam startled you.’ He was much taller than Mali, with a proud set to his shoulders. He stood with easy grace and yet there was a quality of litheness in his stance that suggested whipcord strength. Even in the gloom she could see the gleam of his bright hair.
    â€˜I’m all right,’ she said self-consciously.
    The clouds moved across the sky and a late shaft of light pierced the dimness, the last flare of the dying sun. Mali caught her breath as she saw clearly now the clean-cut line of the jaw and the level brows framing piercing violet eyes. The mouth beneath the golden moustache was strong and sensual, curled upwards at the corners as though in amusement.
    He was regarding her steadily. ‘Do I pass muster?’ he asked lightly, and Mali felt the rich colour suffuse her cheeks as she realised she had been staring. She turned to move away but he caught her arm.
    â€˜Don’t run off.’ His voice was assured and he spoke with such authority that Mali stood obediently still.
    He was the one staring now; his eyes moved over her with such an intense scrutiny that Mali almost felt he was reaching out and touching her.
    â€˜Mr Richardson!’ The voice calling through the stillness broke the spell and the man holding her in such an arbitrary manner glanced over his shoulder.
    Mali froze. She tugged her arm away and stood staring up fiercely.
    â€˜Are you Mr Richardson,’ she demanded, ‘boss of the copper works?’ Suddenly she longed to hit out at the handsome face, of course he was Mr Richardson, who else would he be?
    â€˜So you’re the one who gave my Dad the sack.’ She heard her voice strike at the silence like hard stones. ‘Punishing a man because he takes time off to look after a dying wife, that’s your way isn’t it? Well I hate you, Mr high and mighty Richardson, and I hope you rot in hell!’
    Mali turned and ran back to where her father stood over his wife’s grave. He did not notice her presence. She leaned against the flank of the patient horse and Big Jim turned and nuzzled her arm. Suddenly tears were in her eyes, trembling on her lashes and running into her mouth. ‘Oh, Mammy I miss you!’ she whispered and the cold wind lifted her words and carried them away.

Chapter Two
    The small township of Sweyn’s Eye huddled round the basin of the harbour, encroaching insidiously on the surrounding hills. Shops crouched on grey cobbled streets, glassy-eyed windows bearing gaudy advertisements for Sloan’s Liniment and Pears Soap.
    The outer edges of coffin-shaped doorways sported strings of highly polished boots from which emanated the tangy smell of leather. Brisk scrubbing brushes lay, like a plague of overturned bugs, in