Jane Feather - [V Series] by Violet Read Free Book Online Page B

serious opponent to contend with.
    “Colonel, Lord Julian St. Simon, he calls himself,” Gabriel declared as Tamsyn reached them. “Quite the aristocratic gentleman.” He picked his teeth with a fingernail, his mild eyes regarding the colonel with the same dispassionate curiosity. “It seems you owe him a favor, little girl, but I daresay you consider it paid.”
    Tamsyn flushed at this barbed comment and said swiftly, “Not in the way you mean, Gabriel. We’ll leave what happened back there out of any negotiations.”
    “Negotiations?” Julian’s eyebrows quirked. “Now, what could that mean, Violette? But, forgive me, I assume you have some other name. Since we’re performing formal introduction …” He offered a mock bow and the tension in the air between them crackled. His body still retained the memory of hers as his brain fought to banish all such memories, and he knew it had to be the same for the girl, for they’d taken that mad flight together.
    “I’m called Tamsyn,” she replied. “If it matters to you.” She shrugged, but both the gesture and the carelessness of her tone lacked conviction.
    The name was as much of a puzzle as its owner. “Oh, it matters,” he assured her, adjusting his hastily tied stock, his fingers now moving in leisurely fashion through the linen folds. “Tamsyn. That’s a Cornish name.”
    “It was my mother’s choice. How do you know it’s Cornish?”
    “I’m a Cornishman myself,” he responded. He was surprised at the sudden flash in her eyes, almost as if someone had lit a candle there.
    “Are you?” she said casually. “I believe my mother’s family were Cornish aristocrats too.”
    The colonel’s rather heavy eyelids drooped. His eyes were hooded, his voice a casual drawl. “Forgive me, but what was a Cornish aristocrat doing in a Spanish bandit’s bed?”
    Gabriel moved, the mighty sword lifting. “Watch your tongue, Englishman,” he said softly. “You insult my lady at your peril.”
    Julian raised a hand in placation. He didn’t know whether the man was referring to La Violette, who was certainly no lady by any of the standards he understood, or to her mother, but in the face of the broadsword and the fierceness in the giant’s eyes, instant retreat struck him as the only option. “Forgive me. I meant no insult to a lady.” He laid a slight inflection on the last word. “But surely it’s an understandable question.”
    “Perhaps, but it’s hardly your business, sir,” Tamsyn said coldly. “It’s no business of any soldier.” The bleakness of her expression startled him. The dark-violet eyes were looking through him, and there were ghosts in their depths.
    But of course, La Violette had taken over her father’s band at his death. Julian had heard some story of a raid on El Baron’s mountain village by one of the rogue groups of deserters, composed of disaffected soldiers from the English and French armies, who rampaged through the Peninsula, looting, raping, murdering without qualm.
    Gabriel had moved ominously closer, and he judged it politic to change the subject. “You mentioned negotiation, Violette.” It seemed a more appropriate name in present circumstances. His eyebrow lifted again in question.
    “There’ll be no negotiating with a damned soldier,” Gabriel said harshly. “Come, little girl. Since you owe the man your life, we’ll grant him his. But let’s be out of here, now.”
    “No, Gabriel, wait.” Tamsyn put her hand on his arm. “We owe Cornichet,” she said slowly. There was a gleam in her eye now, a slight twist to her lips. The confusion had dissipated, and her feet were back on solid ground. Cornichet had killed her men, quite apart from his treatment of her, and he should pay for that. She couldn’t expect the English colonel and his men to engage in unprovoked battle with the Frenchmen—the rules of war forbade such a personal encounter. But they could help her to have a little vengeful fun with