Fire Raven by Patricia McAllister Read Free Book Online Page A

shoes completed the outfit. Winnie stepped back and pressed her lips together, wondering why the sight of Kate in such thrifty attire didn’t seem quite right.
    “Ah,” she nodded, mostly to herself. “Finish her hair, Gwynneth. I’ll return shortly.”
    Kate was prepared to feel the deep, soothing strokes of bristles upon her hair again. The moment Winnie disappeared, however, the brushing became vigorous, borderline rough. She raised a protective hand to her prickling scalp, hoping to provide a hint of some sort, but Gwynneth didn’t relent. Was it deliberate? Surely not.
    Kate had her answer when Gwynneth plucked several hairs from her head.
    “Ouch!”
    “Gray hairs, miss,” the maid servant said with a faint, unmistakable undertone of malice. “I’m sure you’ll be wanting me to get rid of them, now.”
    Shocked, Kate was spared a reply when Winnie burst back into the room. She heard the housekeeper cluck her approval.
    “The perfect touch,” Winnie said, setting a cap upon Kate’s head. She clapped her hands with delight, not noticing, as Kate did, that Gwynneth remained mutinously silent and did not echo her approval.
    When Kate’s hand rose to finger the dainty lace cap, Winnie explained, “’Tis called a shadow. Most fitting for an unwed maid still wearing her hair loose.”
    “Mayhap I’m married,” Kate suggested, though her mind was disturbingly blank in regard to any details about her former life.
    “Methinks not, dear You wore no wedding band.”
    “Perhaps I was robbed before I washed up at Morgan’s feet.”
    Gwynneth made a soft sound. It sounded suspiciously like a snigger. The maid was silenced by Winnie’s disapproving cluck.
    “Perhaps,” Winnie echoed noncommittally. “Now I’m sure you’ll be wanting to break your fast. Let me guide you downstairs.”
    Kate nodded. She rose and took Winnie’s arm, walking carefully beside the older woman as they navigated the stone stairs. She still sensed Gwynneth’s piercing stare on her back as they descended to the first floor. She wondered what cause she had given the maid to dislike her so. She forgot the strange incident the moment she heard Morgan’s voice.
    “There you are. I was wondering what took so long.” Kate sensed Morgan studying her; she also ascertained something was not quite right. Indeed, his tone sharpened. “Mrs. Carey, I wish to speak to you after the meal. I’ll take care of Kate till then.”
    Morgan transferred Kate’s hand to his own arm. She felt the fine lawn of his shirt under her fingertips. The material was soft, yet the definition of his arm beneath was muscular. She took a deep breath, wondering why she felt light-headed.
    “I’ll go slow. Lean against me if you wish.”
    If you wish . The words echoed in her mind and took on a different meaning. She restrained herself from doing what he suggested. Morgan’s presence was comforting, yet disconcerting at times.
    His lips brushed close to her ear as he murmured, “I don’t know your tastes, so I ordered some of everything.”
    “Except broth, I hope,” Kate responded with a nervous little laugh.
    “Oh, most definitely broth. I should enjoy any excuse to touch those rosy lips of yours again, albeit with a spoon.”
    The suggestive bit of banter caught Kate off guard. She felt a corresponding tightness in her throat. Her riposte was quick and playful. “Fie, sir, methinks y’are becoming too familiar.”
    Morgan observed Kate’s high color, the rapid beating pulse on her slender neck. He didn’t know why he felt inclined to tease her in the first place. He saw how she responded. She was attracted to him. To a man she couldn’t see and didn’t know.
    So, too, had a few women in his past risked such further knowledge, only to be shocked into screaming fits once they saw his marred face in the full light. He must harbor no illusions as to this acquaintance. It must, by necessity, end soon.
    “Here’s your seat.”
    Morgan’s voice was