The Emerald Swan Read Free

in the folds of his scarlet silk cloak, but substantial enough to make his skin lift in a sensual ripple.
    The monkey leaped in front of the large woman and began to dance and jabber in a manner radiating insult and challenge. The woman bellowed again and raised a fist the size of a ham hock wrapped around a very knotty stick. Chip laughed at her, showing yellow teeth and sparkling eyes, then plunged into the crowd; the woman followed, still bellowing, still flourishing her stick.
    Her chances of catching the monkey were so remote as to be laughable, Gareth reflected, but Chip had clearly achieved his object in drawing her away from his mistress.
    “My thanks, milord.” The girl slithered out from his cloak, giving him a relieved smile. “I have no desire to be caught by Mama Gertrude at the moment. She’s the sweetest person in the world, but she’s absolutely determined I shall become her son’s partner in the end. Luke is a dear, but he’s quite daft at everything but managing Fred. I couldn’t possibly marry him, let alone share an act with him.”
    “I’m delighted to be of assistance,” Gareth murmured dryly, none the wiser for her explanation. Neither couldhe understand why he’d found the proximity of such a dab of a creature so unnervingly sensual, but the skin of his back was still humming like a tuning fork.
    Miranda looked around. The crowd were growing restless and the musicians and jugglers, taking their cue, bowed themselves off to be replaced by a rather witless-looking youth in a multicolored doublet, accompanied by a frisky terrier.
    “That’s Luke and Fred,” Miranda informed the owner of the convenient cloak. “You see, it’s a very good act and he can get Fred to do anything. Watch him jump through the ring of fire … But poor Luke doesn’t have a brain in his head. I know it’s not my destiny to marry him and be his partner.”
    Gareth glanced from the young man’s vacuous expression to the girl’s bright eyes shining with lively intelligence and saw her point.
    “I must go and find Chip. Mama Gertrude won’t be able to catch him, but he might get up to mischief.” The girl gave him a cheerful wave and dived into the crowd, her orange skirt a glow of color until she disappeared from view.
    Gareth felt slightly bemused but he found himself smiling nevertheless. He glanced back at the stage to where the boy on his stool gazed disconsolately into the audience after his departed dance partner. The child looked as bereft as if he’d been left alone in the dark.
    The woman she’d called Mama Gertrude was pushing her way back through the crowd, her expression grimly disgruntled. She was muttering to herself. “That girl … Like a firefly she is with her darting about. Here one minute and gone the next. What’swrong with my Luke, I ask you?” She looked directly at Gareth on this fierce question. “A good, hard worker, he is. A fine-looking boy. What’s wrong with him? Any normal girl would be glad of such a mate.”
    She glared at Gareth as if he were somehow responsible for Miranda’s ingratitude. Then with a shrug and another mutter she sailed away on a cloud of puce, her enormous bosom jutting like the prow of a ship above the swaying circle of her farthingale.
    Luke had just finished his act and was bowing to the crowd, the terrier strutting on his hind legs along the edge of the stage, but the audience was already moving away.
    Gertrude was galvanized. She jumped onto the stage with extraordinary agility for one so cumbersome. “You haven’t sent the cap around!” she bellowed. “Daft as a brush, you are, Luke. Get down there and get your fee.” She belabored the hapless youth with the knob of her stick. “Standing there bowing and cavorting while the crowd goes away! You don’t see Miranda doing that, you dolt!”
    The lad jumped off the stage and began weaving his way through the departing crowd, his cap outstretched, an expression of eager supplication on his face