Jamintha Read Free Page A

dappled gray horse plodded at a lazy pace, the wagon creaking. Seeing me standing alone beside the shabby trunk, the driver pulled up on the reins and the wagon stopped a few yards away. The lad stared at me in surprise, and I took a step backward, my heart pounding. I was alone on a dark street. The boy was large, powerfully built. His mouth spread in a wide grin. He wore muddy brown boots, clinging tan trousers and a leather jerkin over a coarse white linen shirt. Thick, shaggy blond hair spilled over his forehead. His blue eyes stared at me openly.
    â€œNo one come to pick you up?” he inquired.
    â€œGo away,” I replied coldly.
    â€œIt’s gettin’ late,” he remarked. “Looks like you need to hitch a ride with someone.”
    â€œGo away,” I repeated, my voice beginning to tremble.
    He grinned again. It was a surprisingly amiable grin. The lad couldn’t have been much older than I, and he had a rough, affable manner that was almost pleasant, despite the circumstances. Undeniably raw-boned and crude, he was nevertheless attractive. His grin was appealing, and those vivid blue eyes were full of mischief.
    â€œâ€™Ey now,” he said, “you’re not afraid-a me, are you?”
    â€œNot in the least,” I lied. “Just go away.”
    â€œYou plannin’ to walk to Danver ’all?”
    â€œHow do you know—”
    â€œYou’re Miss Jane Danver, aren’t-ja? Susie told me they were expectin’ you. Looks like someone forgot to come fetch you.”
    â€œSusie?”
    â€œShe works there at Danver ’all, the maid. We’re courtin’. Soon as I get enough ready cash in my pockets I’m aimin’ to marry ’er, though the wench ’asn’t said yes yet. You want I should drive you to the ’all? I ’aven’t got anything better to do.”
    â€œI—I think not.”
    He chuckled. It was a rich, jovial sound.
    â€œI’m Johnny Stone, Ma’am. I’m hell with the lasses, all right, as Susie’ll tell-ya. Nothin’ I like so much as a good tumble, but I ain’t never taken it by force, an’ I got respect for my betters. I’m just tryin’ to be ’elpful, ma’am. I ain’t plannin’ rape. You’d best let me drive you to Danver ’all.”
    â€œI—”
    â€œIt’s a long walk, an’ it isn’t safe for you to be alone like this. A lotta fellows, now, they ’aven’t got my scruples.”
    He swung down from the seat and picked up the heavy trunk as though it were a feather, swinging it into the back of the wagon. He was tall, six foot four at least, with enormous shoulders and lean waist. I was still a bit frightened, but he smiled reassuringly, exuding a friendly warmth that caused my fears to vanish.
    â€œI—I don’t know why there was no one to meet me,” I said. “My uncle knew I was supposed to arrive on the mail coach.”
    â€œThere ain’t no tellin’,” Johnny replied. “The folks who live up there in the big ’ouse—they’re a peculiar lot, an’ that’s for sure.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œI reckon you’ll be finding out for yourself,” he said tersely.
    Without warning, he wrapped his large hands around my waist and swung me up onto the seat in one swift motion. I gave a little cry of alarm as my skirts billowed, revealing stockinged calves. Johnny chuckled, amused, then climbed heavily onto the seat beside me, gathering up the reins. He smelled of sweat and the barnyard, a pungent aroma that was not at all unpleasant. It seemed to suit him. He clicked the reins and the wagon began to rattle down the street, the dappled-gray as slow and lazy as before.
    â€œI remember you,” Johnny said casually.
    â€œYou do?”
    â€œFrom before, when you was a little girl. You were a pretty thing, I don’t mind sayin’, always