Named of the Dragon

Named of the Dragon by Susanna Kearsley Read Free Book Online

Book: Named of the Dragon by Susanna Kearsley Read Free Book Online
Authors: Susanna Kearsley
modern-day Glyn Dwr, moving stealthily, unseen, among the wild Welsh northern hills. It came as a decided shock to learn that he was living here, in Angle.
    "And how on earth," I asked Bridget, "did you manage not to mention this? You're horrible at keeping secrets."
    "True. And I can't say I haven't been tempted to tip off a few of the tabloids, you know, and use the money for a nice long holiday in Greece."
    James laughed. "You'd never make it to the airport, darling. They're very protective of Gareth, down here."
    I looked at him. "But surely ... I mean, this must be a popular place, in the summer. You'd think someone would have spotted him by now."
    James didn't think it likely. "Gareth hasn't got the sort of face that people spot."
    "Like yours, you mean," said Bridget, giving him a playful shove.
    "Well, quite. I couldn't hide if I wanted to; it'd be a bloody waste of time to try. Besides," he said, laying one hand over Bridget's, "I'm sure I'd be missed."
    Not by Bridget, I thought. Not so long as there was bigger, more exciting game to hunt. Knowing her as well as I did, I had only to look at her face to know that she'd already met the mysterious Gareth Gwyn Morgan, and that he'd shown no interest in her. There was nothing she loved better than a challenge.
    Veiling her eyes with her lashes, she looked at James demurely. "But of course I'd miss you, darling." She squeezed his hand and gave it back to him. "And so would Lyn. She loves your work. You should have heard the names she called the Booker judges, last year."
    "Really?" He looked gratified. "Mind you, I don't put much stock in prizes, really."
    Bridget pointed out that the only people who said that were the ones who didn't win. Yawning, she stretched and checked her watch. "I'm absolutely knackered. All that driving. Have I time, do you think, for a bath and a bit of a nap?''
    James arched an eyebrow. "Time?"
    "Before dinner."
    "Oh, God." His eyes rolled. "It begins."
    "Well, I have to be fed, darling."
    "Every five minutes?"
    She smiled. "Don't exaggerate. Do I or don't I have time before dinner?"
    "You take as much time as you like," he invited her. "We're just going down to the pub."
    "Right, then. I'm off upstairs."
    Christopher followed her out of the room with his eyes, and again I thought how much he was like Bridget. I could almost see the wheels at work, deciding what approach could best be used to make the conquest.
    James saw it, too. "Hands off, little brother."
    "There's no harm in looking." Helping himself to the last cold ham sandwich, he pushed back his chair and stood. "I think I'll go lie down awhile, myself. I didn't get much sleep last night, with all the goings-on."
    Whistling, he went out and James brought his gaze round to mine, apparently feeling the need to explain.' 'We were both up quite late, I'm not sure if he told you ..."
    "He did say that there'd been a crisis, yes."
    "Crisis." The word amused James. "I suppose you could call it that. Elen, my uncle Ralph's tenant next door, is a bit off her nut. She heard some sort of noise in her son's room last night and she went all hysterical, thought that some creature was coming to get him. We had to call Owen to quiet her down. That's my uncle's friend, Owen, from down in the village. You'll meet him tomorrow, he sees to the farm when my uncle's away. He'll probably try to recruit you," he warned, "for his whist drive."
    "I can't play whist."
    "Just as well. So then," he said, with a smile, "would you like to make the pitch for Simon Holland now, or shall I take you for a walk around the farm and introduce you to the sheep?"
    "A walk sounds lovely."
    It was clearly not the answer he'd expected—he'd been leaning back more comfortably into his chair, arms folded, preparing himself for conversation. My reply brought his movement to a halt. "Oh right. Right, of course. Let me just fetch my jacket, then." Rolling to his feet, he eyed me with interest. ' 'Bridget told the truth, I see, about

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