Never Kiss A Stranger by Heather Grothaus Read Free Book Online Page B

practiced wave of her other hand, leaving her and the messenger alone save for the new “steward” who stood behind her. Judith Angwedd had only hired the enormous man with the shaved head two days ago, when he’d come ‘round the manor looking for work. He had no experience running a hold—she suspected he was some sort of criminal by the old and multitudinous array of scars across his wide back, but Judith Angwedd was confident she could train him properly in her preferences for running Gillwick. Especially since the majority of his duties would take place in her bed.
    She asked the messenger, “How can you be certain he is not dead?”
    “The body was gone,” the man began in a stutter, his eyes seemingly unable to meet his mistress’s.
    “It’s been several days. Perhaps ‘twas washed away by the river,” she suggested. “Or carried off by animals.”
    It looked as though it pained the man to shake his head. “No, milady. When I couldn’t find him, I went ‘round to the abbey, making as if he was a dear friend o’ mine.”
    Judith Angwedd ran her tongue along the front of her teeth behind her lips, swallowed. “And?” she queried quietly.
    “They’d had him. The monks,” the messenger clarified. “One of ‘em found a man calling himself Piers by the river and took him in to nurse him.”
    Judith Angwedd took a deep breath, but so slowly that her chest didn’t seem to move. It was important to stay calm. “He is no longer at the abbey?”
    “No, milady. He left only yester morn.”
    She rolled her lips inward, stretched her cheek with her tongue. “I see. Do they know we seek him?”
    The man shook his head rapidly. “I give ‘em a false name, milady. Said him and me was just travelin’ companions what had been separated.”
    “Wise,” she praised coolly and nodded once. She almost smiled when she saw the messenger visibly relax. “No one will be able to trace you to Gillwick Manor—or to Bevan or me.”
    “That’s right, milady. I done everything just like you said.”
    Judith Angwedd’s nostrils flared, and she nearly lost her composure. If the man had done as she’d commanded, her dead husband’s bastard would be in pieces, burning on a pyre at this moment, instead of running loose aboutthe land, likely in a straight line to the king. But she smoothed her tongue along her fine teeth again, and it calmed her enough to summon a hint of a smile for the doomed man.
    “Of course you did. Well done.
Well done,”
she praised.
    “What shall I do now, milady?” the man asked, wringing his cap all the harder, obviously anxious to please her.
    “You have done quite enough,” Judith Angwedd assured him. “You are dismissed. Phineas will meet you at the road with your payment.”
    “Of course, milady.” The man began backing away, bowing the entire time. “Thank you.”
    When he was gone, Judith Angwedd turned her face slightly to speak to the fierce looking man still standing behind her chair. “Send for Bevan right away, Phineas. He must come no matter how drunk he is. Mayhap the bastard Piers is still bothered enough from his wounds that we might gain him, but if not, we shall inquire of the holds from here to London to see if any might have given him refuge. He will not hide from me, the cowardly filth.”
    The man bowed.
    “And Phineas?”
    “Yes, my lady?”
    “That messenger who was just here …”
    There was only the briefest pause. “You mean the thief, my lady?”
    “Yes, Phineas. That is exactly who I mean. That man was most certainly a thief.” She held her chalice up near her ear and in a moment it was taken from her hand. “He has stolen my favorite cup.”
    “I know how to handle thieves, my lady. Think upon it no more.”
    Judith Angwedd listened to Phineas’s hollow footsteps as he left the room, and she waited for her son.
    * * * 
    Sybilla Foxe watched from the comfort of her bed as the man dressed himself. She liked the way the long, thick muscles