Reckless Angel by Jane Feather Read Free Book Online

the injured shoulder. The warm air stroked her bared skin, and for some reason Henrietta shivered.
    â€œAre you cold?” Daniel asked, taking the top off thesmall skin container. “’Tis warm enough, I would have said.”
    â€œNay, I am not cold,” she denied rather weakly. “’Tis fatigue, I expect.”
    â€œAs like as not,” he agreed, dipping a finger into the strong-smelling ointment. “I will try not to hurt you, but I must press hard if y’are to feel the benefit.”
    She closed her eyes because it seemed easier and less awkward if she did not have to look up at him. Gently but firmly, he massaged the ointment into her aching shoulder. It hurt and she inhaled sharply, biting her bottom lip. The pressure did not diminish, however, as Daniel steeled himself to complete his task. But at last it stopped and her eyes opened.
    â€œNay, do not look so reproachful,” he said softly. “’Tis sometimes necessary to cause a little pain in order to do good.”
    â€œThis pains me more than it does you? Is that what you would say?” She smiled ruefully. “That has been said to me many times, Sir Daniel, but I have never found it convincing.”
    Chuckling, he buttoned her shirt. “Nay, I do not subscribe to that thesis. ’Twas said to me also many a time, and I could never understand why those who wielded the rod should suffer more than those who felt it.”
    â€œExactly so,” Henrietta agreed fervently. She sat up, flexing her shoulder. “’Tis easier,” she said. “If ye wish to continue the journey, sir, I am certain I am strong enough.”
    â€œMayhap you are,” he said. “But there are those amongst us who are not.” He gestured a little way down the ditch to where Tom and Will lay prone. “We’ll all be the better for an hour’s respite, and there’s less danger of discovery if we travel under the moon.” He lay back against the side of the ditch, closing his eyes. “Ye may find it more comfortable to use my legs as pillow. Twill provide support for your shoulder.”
    Henrietta looked a little doubtful, but he appearedquite relaxed and the bare ground was certainly bumpy and unyielding. She resumed her former position; the sun bathed her eyelids, creating a warm red darkness; aching fatigue yielded to languour; the living flesh beneath her head embodied safety and reassurance. Henrietta slept.
    Daniel listened to her soft, regular breathing; felt the heaviness of her unconscious body; sensed her unquestioning trust, and hoped mightily that the trust was not misplaced. He would not have chosen to flee the lost battlefield of Preston with a weakened maid and her reluctant swain in tow. A rational man would not have pledged himself to protect a runaway maid from the legitimate wrath of her parent. Yet for the life of him, he did not know how else he could have acted. Daniel Drummond slept.

Chapter 3
    â€œY’ are a milksop, Will,” declared Henrietta in disgust, picking dirt from beneath her fingernails with the sharp end of a twig. “I am certain that if you defy your father, he will admire ye for it in the end. He may be difficult at first—”
    â€œOh, you live in cloud cuckoo land,” Will interrupted. “There is nothing feeble about facing reality. Is there, Sir Daniel?”
    Daniel regarded the squabbling pair wearily. They had been at it all afternoon and he was heartily sick of it. Outside the barn where they sheltered, the rain fell in a cold, drenching sheet. Now and again a gust of wind would drive an icy wave through the unglazed window and fling the door back on its hinges. There were holes in the roof and the water dripped steadily onto the already damp straw. The horses stood, heads hanging in resigned misery; the humans huddled against the wall, cold, tired, and hungry. The odors of wet horseflesh, moldy straw, and none-too-clean