Ruth Langan by Blackthorne Read Free Book Online Page B

surprise, as though he couldn’t quite believe that she was speaking directly to him.
    “I hope we’ll be friends.” She offered her hand and he had no choice but to accept her handshake. The fingers touching hers were limp and pale and trembling.
    In his innocence, Liat blurted, “Why doesn’t he answer you, ma’am?”
    “My brother can’t speak,” Quenton said simply.
    “But I heard...” she began before Quenton cut her off with a warning look.
    “He may make a few unintelligible sounds when he is asleep, but awake, he is incapable of speech. Would you care to take a seat?”
    He indicated several chairs around the fireplace. Olivia perched on the edge of one. Liat climbed up to another, then settled himself back against the cushions.
    Quenton was determined to be civil, if it killed him. “I’m told you lived in Oxford, Miss St. John.”
    “Yes.” She felt a wave of pain that caught her by surprise. How she missed her home and her parents, and the friends she had known for a lifetime.
    Quenton was watching her closely. As was his silent brother.
    “Did your father teach at the university?”
    She nodded, not trusting her voice. She swallowed twice before managing, “He was a professor of botany and zoology. My mother and I acted as his assistants.”
    “You assisted him? In what way?”
    She flushed. “In very minor ways, I assure you. He taught me the names of plants and animals. When he took me into the fields, I was expected to watch for certain species, and collect them for his students.”
    “I see. And did you go into the fields often?”
    “Every weekend.” Her smile bloomed. “I did so enjoy those times. I thought...if you wouldn’t mind, that is, I’d like to take Liat for walks around Blackthorne and see if he might learn the names of some of the plants and animals.”
    He glanced at the lad. “Would you like that, boy?”
    “I...suppose so, sir.”
    “Good. Then you have my permission, Miss St. John.” His eyes narrowed. “I must insist, however, that you stay away from the cliffs.”
    “The cliffs?”
    Before he could respond there was a knock on the door, and the housekeeper entered, followed by her serving wenches.
    “Come, Miss St. John. Liat.” Quenton signaled to the village youth, who hurried forward to carry Bennett to a seat at the table.
    Olivia was left to ponder the wide range of emotions she could read in the two brothers’ eyes before they had turned away so abruptly. A brooding, simmering fury in Quenton’s. And in Bennett’s, stark terror at the mention of the cliffs.
    She thought again about what Edlyn had told her. Quenton’s wife had been found dead at the foot of those cliffs. And Bennett had been found nearby, barely clinging to life.
    Sadly, whatever Bennett knew about the tragedy was locked away in his battered mind.
    Perhaps forever.

Chapter Five
     
     
    P embroke stood at attention behind Quenton, who sat at the head of the table. Bennett sat at his left side, with Olivia at his right side and Uat beside her. The housekeeper bustled around the table, directing the servants in the proper way to serve the guests.
    Wine was poured in three goblets, though only Quenton tasted his. This was followed by a silver tray of biscuits so light they seemed to melt on the tongue. A second servant followed offering a tray of clotted cream and fruit conserves. There was a platter of new potatoes swimming in gravy, and a second platter of vegetables arranged in a clear liquid of broth.
    As each course was offered, Olivia would spoon some onto her own plate and help Liat do the same.
    When a serving wench approached the head of the table with a large platter, Quenton glanced at the servant, then at the housekeeper.
    “What is this, Mistress Thornton?”
    “Mutton, m’lord.”
    “Did you inform Cook that my brother dislikes mutton? I specifically told you that he prefers beef. Or kidney pie.”
    “Aye, m’lord. But Cook says yer grandfather preferred mutton. So