Jo Goodman

Jo Goodman Read Free Page A

Book: Jo Goodman Read Free
Author: My Steadfast Heart
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mind, or that Jack Quincy himself might think better of the bargain he had made, Colin had an agonizing wait.
    The knot in his stomach didn't begin to untangle until England's coastline disappeared from view.
    He was half an ocean away when Mr. Elliot Willoughby arrived in London from Rosefield and began inquiring about the direction of Cunnington's Workhouse for Foundlings and Orphans. The solicitor, it seemed, was particularly interested in the information on three children whose surname was reputed to be Thorne.

 
     
     
    Chapter 1

     
    London, June 1841
     
    It was the sound of thunder that roused him out of bed. Colin hadn't been asleep, or at least not deeply so, but he hadn't been particularly anxious to crawl out from between the sheets or remove the length of shapely calf and thigh that had been lying across his legs.
    He padded softly to the window and drew back the yellowed curtains. Lightning flashed across the sky and for a moment his naked body was bathed in brilliant white light. He pressed the flat of his hand against the glass. When thunder rolled a few seconds later he felt the vibration all the way up his arm.
    His trousers were lying over the arm of the room's only chair. He reached for them and pulled them on. Another ragged bolt of lightning illuminated the room as Colin glanced toward the bed. He had no difficulty discerning that his companion was still sleeping soundly. That was good, he thought as he unlatched the window and threw it open. It meant he had time to remember her name.
    Warm, moist air swirled into the room and Colin put himself directly in its path. Drawing one leg up, he sat on the sill and rested his palms on his bent knee. The first fat droplets of rain touched his left shoulder on their way to the ground. He didn't move. The path of the water outlined his arm and elbow. One drop swelled strands of hair near the nape of his neck, darkening it to gold.
    Colin leaned his head back against the window frame. This time when the thunder came it seemed to rumble through his entire body. He felt it in the soles of his feet, along his thigh, and across his chest. He breathed deeply and imagined the scent of the sea. He had only been ashore eight days and he'd been ready to return to his ship for six of them.
    Rain began to fall faster and the shape of the drops changed from fat, spattering batter to thin water lances. The sting was mild compared to what Colin endured at the helm of the Remington Mystic. There the spray could be needle sharp and the pounding waves were known to scale the clipper's rails and carry an unprepared or unsuspecting sailor away.
    The room Colin was shown at the Passing Fancy Inn faced the road to London. At this hour the throughway was quiet. Colin had been on the last coach from London and that had arrived at the inn before nightfall. He and Aubrey Jones were the only two to disembark. Aubrey had immediately caught the eye of the wench who served them dinner and they retired to his room shortly thereafter. Colin had expected to sleep alone but the serving wench produced a sister. Sibling rivalry, it seemed, had provided any number of travelers a playful romp in the upstairs rooms at the Passing Fancy.
    "Here now," the voice from the bed whined sleepily. "Come away from the window. Ye'll catch yer death and toss it to me besides." When Colin didn't move or even glance in her direction she raised herself up on one elbow and patted the space beside her. "Come to Molly, why don't ye, luv."
    Molly. So that was her name. "Go back to sleep," he said. His words were not delivered kindly or as a suggestion. Colin Thorne was used to giving orders.
    "No need to bark at me," Molly said, quite able to hold her own. "Didn't get quite enough of the ol' slap n' tickle, is that what's keepin' ye up? I don't mind a bit more play." She yawned hugely. "If it's all the same to you."
    It was so much better when she didn't talk, Colin thought. His gaze moved away from the quiet road and

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