The Bargain Read Free Page B

I'm indulging this interruption to my privacy, but even amusements have their limits."
    The censure in his voice did the trick. The pert Jewell lowered her chin as she clasped a wavering hand.
    It must be the brandy, for something in him suddenly saddened at the loss of her fire. He lifted the glass again to his lips but stopped. Perhaps if he kept from further soaking his brain, he could figure out why the mouse ran in here. Was she dashing for a clock? He put down the liquor. "You were very dear to my wife. I'd find you in each other's confidence. I watch you sometimes with Jonas. Same love."
    Jewell's countenance lifted, full lips parted, and a resilient voice sounded. "Was always the way with us, since I could remember. That's why she freed me. You must make it right."
    Now the mouse gave orders? The blend of audacity and humble pie tweaked his humor and his pride. "Lady Welling didn't have the power to free you. Let me acquaint you to English law. Once a woman marries, all her money, possessions, even her rights become her husband's. So how could my wife give what she didn't have?"
    Thunder boomed, and the girl's chestnut eyes widened so much that flecks of emerald and gold showed, just like Eliza's. He reached for the girl to catch a part of his late wife, but Jewell ran.  
    She passed through the patio doors, the one leading to the smallish garden and then to alley. From the popped opening, the wind hissed and spit into his study.
    The fool girl left him for the rain and the evils of dark London streets. He wobbled to the glass panes and leaned against it, staring at the sea of blackness, but couldn't find her. The buckets of water dumping from above hid her. Yes, God was good at taking things away from Gareth.  
    A jolt went through him as he turned and witnessed his Eliza's painting bearing down on him, judging him for things out of his control.  
    Gut burning, he put his sore palm to his head and tried to block the disappointment his love had had in him and his own noisy conscience.  
    The cackle of taunting thunder forced him to swivel back to window. How could he let Jewell go and take the last traces of Eliza, too?

Chapter Two:   Danger in The Streets

        T he rain soaked through Precious's blouse down to her corset, icing her skin. The harshness of the cold water couldn't chill the fright pushing in her lungs, unable to break free. And though Lord Welling didn't mean no harm, his grip on her waist intensified the fear trapped in her flesh. Would the nightmares ever go away?
    Her slippers slapped at the sidewalk, and she slowed her steps. Lord Welling weren't a brute. Eliza would've said something. Maybe.
    No, he was just a thief who stole her hopes. Her heart slowed as she stopped running. Nobody chased her yet.  
    Bending over to catch a breath, her mobcap flew with the wretched wind. Everything in her head ached, down to her eye sockets. It was cruel to hope and to have kept freedom pent up in her skull. She should've asked before now and not believed for two years she was free.  
    Turning her face to the dark night sky, she let the pounding rain drench her cheeks. The sloppy drops spit at her, but something needed to remove the tracks of salt.  
    Maybe the God Eliza swore was real would do that one thing now; use His rain to cleanse her of hope and despair.  
    Yet, how could there be a God, and a good one? He let Eliza die. He let a whole world of people be set in chains. "Not fair. When will it be fair?"
    The sound of horses' hooves pounded behind her. Her heart slammed against her chest. Lord Welling had sent men to retrieve his property. What punishment would he give his runaway slave?  
    But where else would she go? The coins sewn into her apron were still at Firelynn, wrapped about the baron's hand. Precious had nothing.  
    Empty, she turned to surrender, but the carriage passed her by. A sigh of relief escaped her mouth. She was safe for another few minutes, but the dark streets of London