For Your Arms Only by Caroline Linden Read Free Book Online Page B

curse that belied the earnestness of her prayer, Cressida flung the dust cloth across the room. She strode into the hall and seized the broom, sweeping vigorously for several minutes in an attempt to work off her frustration with physical activity. When she threw open the front door to sweep out the dirt, though, an unpleasant sight met her eyes.
    The visitor, Major Hayes, was talking to Tom down the lane by the end of the fence, where the sheep had gotten through the broken gate. Tom leaned against the gate, nodding now and then but saying little. His posture was stiff and uncomfortable. Cressida put down the broom and started forward, worry and outrage quickening her step until she was almost running down the lane.
    He saw her when she had covered half the distance. She was too far away to see his expression—or those damnably blue eyes—under the brim of his hat, but he bowed his head and raised one hand before swinging onto his horse’s back. He said something else to Tom, who nodded, then Major Hayes rode off, cantering around the bend in the road without a glance back.
    Cressida slowed to a walk, holding one hand against the stitch in her side. She was still staring after him when she reached Tom. “What did he want, Tom?”
    Tom looked troubled. “He said he’s come to look for the sergeant. Asked if I had anything to offer, any suggestion to make.”
    “Yes, that’s about what he told us.”
    “Hmmph,” was Tom’s only reply.
    Uncertain, Cressida looked down the road where Major Hayes had disappeared. “Callie thinks it is the answer to our prayers. Lord Hastings sent him, it seems.” She turned back to Tom. “I wonder why he was sent to us. One might think coming back from the dead would require all a man’s attention, even if he weren’t a suspected traitor.”
    Tom shrugged. He had gone back to the gate and had a nail between his teeth as he hefted a rail into place.
    “What did you tell him?” Cressida knew she was pestering him but couldn’t stop herself.
    Hammer in hand, Tom stabbed the nail into the rail. “Nothing,” he mumbled.
    “Well, of course you had nothing to tell, since we don’t know anything. I don’t know what on earth he’s going to do that we haven’t thought of.” Tom began hammering the nail, sharp blows that shook the gate. Cressida sighed. “All right. Thank you, Tom.”
    The sound of his hammering followed her back to the house. Cressida was still worrying over the major’s visit when she almost ran head-on into her grandmother.
    “Granny,” she exclaimed, stopping short. “What are you doing downstairs?”
    Granny beamed up at her, wobbling a bit on her feet even though she clutched her cane. “Did I hear a gentleman’s voice in the house, dear?”
    Cressida’s face heated, to her disgust. “Yes, Granny.” She hesitated; mention of Papa was often enough to upset Granny to no end, and send her into a fretful decline. But not explaining the major’s true purpose would let Granny think the intolerable—which her next question confirmed.
    “Was he here to see you, or your sister?” Granny had such a twinkling smile.
    “Er—both, really.” There was no way around the truth. Cressida put one arm around her grandmother’s frail shoulders and gently steered her toward the sitting room. Granny had become so thin lately, her skin like worn cotton over her bones. “Do you remember that I wrote to Lord Hastings, to see if Papa might have mentioned something about his plans?”
    “You did?” Granny was trying to crane her neck and peer around Cressida’s arm, out the open front door. “Well, yes, your father had better come home soon, if there are young men coming to call. It wouldn’t do at all, dear, to consider a suitor without your father’s permission. Was he a handsome fellow?”
    Cressida repressed a sigh. First Callie, now Granny. “He wasn’t a suitor. He came because Lord Hastings sent him to find Papa.”
    The instant she spoke, she knew it