For Your Arms Only by Caroline Linden Read Free Book Online

appealing for help. She wet her lips and reminded herself to be calm and polite. “Our father is not in the habit of telling us his every plan. We did expect him home sooner, but it would not be unusual for him to do…other things.”
    “Might those other things delay him three months?”
    “Yes,” she said. It didn’t reflect very well on Papa, and she hated telling this stranger that he regularly took off on unexplained larks, but there was no point in hiding it, and she was beginning to run out of patience with her father anyway. “Sometimes.”
    “Ah.” He was still looking at her. “And do you usually worry?”
    Cressida felt the blood rush to her cheeks. Did they often write to senior military officers and ask for helping finding him, was what the major meant. “Not normally, no.”
    “If I may be so bold, what has alarmed you this time?”
    He knew, she thought; he knew it was because they were running out of money. “He has never been gone this long,” said Callie, diplomatically stepping into the breach. “We’ve had no word from him, and he did say he would return soon. We wrote to Lord Hastings in the hope Papa might have mentioned something to indicate where he had gone.”
    “Of course. I hope I may be of assistance in locating him soon. As I’ve no acquaintance with your father, it would be most helpful if you could describe him, sketch his character for me, to give me an idea where to begin.”
    Cressida bristled, although she tried to hide it. How was this man going to find Papa when he didn’t know the first thing about him? “He’s my height,” she began in a flat voice. “Dark, like my sister, and very fit. If there is a gathering in the pub sharing ale, my father will be in the center of it, laughing and talking with everyone. He’s clever and very amiable, the sort of fellow everyone likes.”
    Alec listened closely as she spoke, absorbing every detail available. The two sisters were nervous, although the taller one, whom he had met the other day across her pistol, was also angry—at whom, he wasn’t certain, although from the way her eyes flashed when she looked his way, he was sure her opinion of him had not improved overnight. The other lady, Mrs. Phillips, was the prettier sister, with wide dark eyes and a delicate face. Her hands were slender and graceful, and the pile of curls atop her head gave her the appearance of a willowy flower.
    Miss Turner, though, was more interesting. From her clenched hands to her rigid posture, he saw more of interest in her than in anything about her sister. Aside from the fact that she was not pleased to see him—perhaps out of instinctive dislike, perhaps out of embarrassment for her behavior the previous day—he could tell she was holding herself tightly in check. That alone made her intriguing, but Alec knew it was more than that.
    He had to work at keeping his eyes away from her, in fact. She wasn’t beautiful, but rather striking—not just for her height, which was quite tall for a woman, but for the fire in those extraordinary eyes. There was no name for that color, he thought, because it wasn’t just one color but a changeable swirl of gold and brown, like a kaleidoscope. He had a feeling her eyes mirrored her thoughts, maybe more than she knew. She and her sister were both hiding something, of course. It could have been as mundane as a lack of money, but for all the fire in Miss Turner’s gaze, Alec didn’t think she was rash or foolish. Something had made her take a pistol into the stable and point it at him without even asking what he was about. He wondered what they weren’t telling him about their father, or themselves, or their situation.
    “Is there anyone else who might know Sergeant Turner and his habits?” he asked. So far neither woman had said anything he hadn’t already known or guessed. Turner was a bit of a scoundrel, but a lovable one.
    They shared a glance. “Our mother died many years ago,” said Mrs.