Mariel by Jo Ann Ferguson Read Free Book Online Page A

not like to be cornered. Then I fight nastily.”
    â€œI noticed.” He alit from the quietly purring automobile. “Will I see you Sunday?”
    â€œNo,” she answered.
    â€œWhen?” He knew he was ignoring the advice she had given him only moments before, but he wanted to be sure this day was not a fluke.
    She hedged. “I have to come into Foxbridge on Tuesday for the school board meeting. Until then, I will be busy with some work I must do to prepare for it.”
    â€œI will see you soon.”
    Taking the statement as the command it was, she said, “Perhaps.” She pressed on the speed control, wrenching the automobile from the rectory in a spurt of dust.
    Ian brushed off his coat as the buzz of the motor disappeared into the distance. She had warned him not to pressure her, and he had risked her wrath. He grinned. He told himself he had not expected she would attempt to use that odd conveyance as a weapon against him.
    Walking toward the door, he greeted Mrs. Reed warmly. He suspected Mariel would be as anxious for their next time together as he was. Her behavior had not changed his mind. It would be soon.
    Mariel Wythe was not the only one determined to have her way.

Chapter Three
    Mariel swore under her breath. When she thought of how Phipps would reprimand her for such language, she repeated herself more vehemently and much louder. Nursing her aching wrist, she kicked the hard, rubber tires of the automobile. It did nothing to get it running, but made her feel better.
    Reaching for the key, she decided she had to give the ignition another try. If she could not get it started, she would have to walk all the way back to the Cloister. She grimaced as she looked at her narrow silk gown. As she had so many times, she cursed the current styles, which effectively swaddled women.
    This time she released the brake before the key snapped back to burn her fingers. The motor remained as silent as before. If she did not return to the Cloister in time for dinner and a chance to change her clothes, she was going to be late for the meeting of the school board.
    She looked at the dark bag on the floor. All her materials were prepared. She had worked late into the night for the past three evenings to be ready to answer all the stupid questions the other board members were sure to pose to her. The task had kept her from thinking about the strong desire on Ian’s face when he spoke of kissing her. She could not ignore her own reaction to that tempting invitation.
    As she had too often in the days since their walk along the cliffs, she forced the thoughts of him from her head. She did not want to find her life tangled with Ian Beckwith-Carter’s quiet existence as minister of this shire. What she longed for she did not know, but she was determined to find it alone.
    â€œDamn automobile!” she snarled as she refocused her frustration on the unmoving vehicle.
    â€œNeed help, miss?”
    She whirled to see a man standing in the middle of the road. She wondered where he had popped out of so suddenly. He was far too tall for an elf, and his graying, once-dark hair did not seem to fit in with any of the other residents of fairydom. Well worn clothes announced his profession as a landsman. Her eyes rose to meet his midnight black ones. Tall and thin, he seemed as much a part of this silent road as the trees behind the stone wall.
    Swallowing her shock, she said in a normal tone, “It’s the automobile. It won’t start.”
    â€œI have heard of these, but I have never seen one before.” He placed his hand on the chrome of the fender and stroked it with admiration. His fingers were long and slender, not the short, stubby ones she expected from a farmer. “Shall I look at it for you, miss?”
    â€œIf you don’t know—”
    He smiled, showing even teeth. “I can’t hurt it if it’s broken. I might be able to fix it. I have worked on other