Ironbark by Johanna Nicholls Read Free Book Online Page A

wrath. His favourite horse threw me.’
    Keziah wasn’t fooled by his pretence that he was a groom. His arrogant demeanour and educated speech clearly placed him as gentry. Did he think Romani girls were that gullible?
    â€˜No doubt your father will forgive you, knowing the horse was in pain.’
    The counterfeit groom gave a short laugh as if amused to be caught out in a lie.
    Keziah knelt and gently stroked the horse’s fetlock. ‘I thought so. A bee sting.’
    Aware the young man was studying her intently she drew out the stinger then spat on the wound to cleanse it. She found a common comfrey plant growing wild on the verge and used her headscarf to bandage the leaves against the horse’s fetlock.
    â€˜By Jove, that was splendid. May I know your name? I am Caleb Morgan.’ He inclined his head.
    â€˜Keziah Stanley. My father was the finest violinist in Wales and the Northern Counties.’
    Warily she allowed Caleb Morgan to draw her out on the subject of horses, well aware of his attempts to form a bond and how often he cast discreet glances at her.
    Keziah had no illusions about her good looks – they were useful to allow her entrée to fine houses to give Tarot readings. She was quite tallfor a girl and she knew that men, even gaujo men, admired the unusual combination of her oriental features, black Romani hair and an olive complexion, with the contrast of her Celtic blue eyes – her sole inheritance from Stella the Whore. To Keziah, her looks were far less important than her pride in her abilities. Meeting Caleb’s gaze she shrugged off his admiration. Gem considered her beautiful and that was all that mattered.
    â€˜Miss Stanley, perhaps you would care to assist our housekeeper until your ship sets sail for the colonies? Our servants are paid a more than fair wage.’
    Although her grandmother’s warnings about gaujo trickery were ingrained, Keziah quickly weighed this against the advantages. A short time earning good money under the roof of a respectable gaujo family would be safer than dukkering with the Tarot in a seaport like Liverpool, no doubt full of drunken sailors. ‘No harm in having a word with her,’ she said.
    â€¢Â â€¢Â â€¢
    Keziah tried to conceal her awe when they arrived at the carriageway of a handsome three-storey Georgian mansion set back from the road in a landscaped park. It was the most impressive house she had ever seen. Although the gaujo world of comfort was worthless in Romani eyes, she could not overcome her curiosity about the treasures that would be inside.
    Caleb Morgan led her to the servants’ entrance at the rear and beckoned to a middle-aged housekeeper. His tone of voice changed to one of casual command when addressing the woman.
    â€˜Mrs Wills, this is Miss Keziah Stanley, here at my invitation. A fine breakfast is in order. You’ll thank me for finding you an honest servant if Miss Stanley decides to remain and work for you.’ He turned to Keziah. ‘Enjoyed our talk. Off to the stables.’
    Later that afternoon, having changed into her housemaid’s uniform, Keziah caught sight of a very different Caleb Morgan in the grandentrance hall. Dressed in a fine riding habit with his cravat anchored by a diamond stickpin in the shape of a horseshoe, he sprang down the circular staircase and looked up at the shadowy figure at the top of the stairs.
    Realising this other man was her new master, Keziah took stock of him. Dark-haired with a touch of grey at the temples and cold, aquiline features, John Morgan was clearly a man whose word was law. Yet Keziah sensed his status as gentleman was an assumed mantle rather than his birthright. She noted Caleb’s address to his father was balanced between respect and easy familiarity.
    â€˜Thank you for your understanding, Father. Dashed good to be home again. Cambridge is quite a bore.’ Pausing by the front door Caleb said quietly,