Folly's Reward by Jean R. Ewing Read Free Book Online Page B

if that was what really had happened, and the injury that had resulted in his loss of memory, to engage her sympathy.
    She glanced at his face. He quite obviously knew it, and had no qualms about so manipulating her. But he also looked confident, capable, and commanding. And there was a long, dark road to Glasgow ahead. The presence of a man was reassuring. Or it would be if the man weren’t Hal!
    “Your predicament isn’t my concern, sir,” Prudence insisted. “I don’t want company, and there’s an end of it.”
    Bobby whimpered and turned over. Prudence looked back at him. His small white hand lay exposed to the cold air above the cover.
    “Alas, but Bobby does. Would you leave him to frostbite in order to nurse your entirely unfounded mistrust? Miss Drake, pray allow me to drive you to Glasgow, or I shall turn this horse around and take you straight back to Mr. and Mrs. MacEwen. In fact, I’m not sure that I shouldn’t do so anyway.”
    “No!” Prudence said. “You cannot, sir! Mr. MacEwen knows why I am gone. He would not try to stop me.”
    It seemed a very small lie, considering what she knew of Black Belham.
    “Very well,” Hal replied calmly. “Then I will take you south, Miss Drake. I fear that Bobby is getting cold. Will you take care of him, or must I?”
    Without remonstrating further, she thrust the reins into Hal’s hands and climbed into the back. It need only be until she reached the coaching inn. Once she and Bobby were on the public stage they would be safe. And until then perhaps it was foolish to travel alone. After all, Lady Dunraven had sent an escort with her to the MacEwens’ house.
    But how foolish that move had turned out to be! They should have known that it wouldn’t be safe for long—that a marquess would be able to discover the name of her father’s old friend. Lord Belham had too much to gain from laying hands on his new ward. He would never meekly give up the search.
    Prudence gathered Bobby against her breast and wrapped him securely into her own warmth. Within ten minutes she was fast asleep as Hal drove steadily on through the night.
    * * *
    “I am sorry,” the man with the eye-patch said, “I know nothing of medicines. I am only asking if there have been strangers seen hereabouts. I have lost my lad, and search for news of him.”
    It was late in the night, but light still streamed from the window of the bothy. There was a child sick inside, and his father had sent for the doctor.
    “Strangers? There’s the lady and the wee lad up at the Manse, sir, as you have just described to me yourself,” the soft Highland voice replied in the perfect, unaccented English that all Highlanders learned in school. The gentle courtesy was natural and had not had to be learned. “They stay at Mr. MacEwen’s place. And there is the new fellow he has taken on to help him.”
    “A fellow? What kind of fellow would that be, now?”
    “A black-haired lad with a canny enough mouth on him—or so my Elspeth said when she came back from bringing the milk. And with the looks on him like a prince, so she tells me, from a fairy tale—eyes blue as a harebell. A foolish eye it is some women have, sir.”
    “Thank you kindly,” the man with the eye-patch said. He began to drop a coin into the Highlander’s palm.
    “No need for gold for a little common courtesy to a stranger, sir,” the Highlander said with simple dignity, stepping back. “Good night to you, sir. And I hope you find your lad.”
    The man with the eye-patch caught up his horse and swung into the saddle. He rode away toward the Manse with the easy seat of a professional soldier. As the darkness closed about him, he loosened the pistols in his coat pocket.
     
Chapter 4
     
    The Cock and Ninepins in Glasgow was filled with bustle and ablaze with light when Hal drove the cart into the inn yard. The stage had just come in. Fresh horses had already been run out and were being put into the shafts.
    He glanced around at the