Come Be My Love by Patricia Watters Read Free Book Online

offal matter would be moved. A schedule for beating and shaking rugs, one for cleaning and maintaining the board walkway in front of the building and another for disposing of ammoniacal liquor, soaplees and other offensive matter. She was also required to provide character references and signatures from six local merchants, the backing of two local banks, signatures of the mayor and each member of the city council, and lastly, the signature of Governor Jonathan Cromwell.
    She stepped over to the man behind the desk and waved the papers in front of him. "There's no way a person could possibly follow all of these rules," she said. "I cannot imagine that every merchant in Victoria has been subjected to this in order to obtain a business license."
    The man blinked dispassionately. "If you wish to discuss it with a member of the legislative council, I'll schedule an appointment for you. The council is occupied with governmental matters at this time, but they might see you in, say, three weeks."
    Glancing around, Sarah noticed several men looking on in amusement. Obviously, they'd been party to this scheme. She drew in an extended breath through flared nostrils, and said, "I do believe I understand." Gathering her reticule and parasol, she left the room, the bundle of documents clutched in her hand, a scowl on her face.
    Marching down the hallway she located Jon's office and swept into the room. She was at once aware of the rugged, virile man sitting behind the desk. With his crop of unruly black hair and his broad chin with the shadow of a day-old beard, he looked more like a frontiersman than a governor. She was also aware of the penetrating dark eyes appraising her. But she refused to be distracted by the man. Standing before him, her eyes stinging with tears of outrage, she said, "You and your council must take me for a complete noddy !" She slapped the documents on his desk with a thud, sending Jon's papers fluttering about, then pursed her lips and waited.
    Jon leaned back in his chair, a smile tugging at his lips, which he suppressed, and allowed his eyes to range over Sarah. Her overtunic and the baggy trousers that draped from beneath it were almost clownish. The entire costume gave her a diamond-shaped outline, her bonnet with its tall plume forming the apex. On another woman the ridiculous costume might look sexless. But on Sarah, it looked provocative. The soft silk emphasized her female assets, which were rising and falling with her vexation, making him vividly aware of the enticingly woman beneath...
    "Are you quite through ogling?" Sarah snapped.
    "I was just admiring your... outfit," Jon said. Everything about the woman glowed. Her flushed rosy cheeks, her moist angry lips, her shimmering silk costume.
    Sarah's eyes narrowed as she jabbed a finger at the bundle of papers before him, and said, "I refuse to let a group of underhanded pettifoggers prevent me from achieving my goal."
    "Underhanded pettifoggers?" Jon smiled. Too true. The lot of them were exactly that. But Miss Sarah Ashley had the makings of a rabble rouser, and he intended to nip it in the bud. "Am I to assume you were not granted your request?" he asked, with mock innocence.
    "You already know that!"
    "I told you last night that the city council was opposed to women in business," Jon said, "and that you wouldn't find them very supportive."
    Sarah braced her hands on his desk, leaned toward him, and said, "But you didn't tell me they would stoop so low as to fabricate papers in an effort to undermine my efforts!"
    Jon looked into a pair of green eyes with enlarged pupils, and said, "Isn't that a bit strong?"
    "What exactly do you call it? I'm obviously being singled out as a scapegoat."
    Jon rose. "A scapegoat is one who bears the blame for others," he pointed out, while walking around his desk. "Is that what you're doing? Being a martyr for all the women who have suffered throughout the ages for their misfortune of... being a woman? What a pity. I find