Sweet Savage Eden by Heather Graham Read Free Book Online Page B

own.”
    “Acres covered with savages and pines!”
    “It is an Eden, Robert. Raw and savage, yes, but with the promise of paradise.” He pulled up on his bay suddenly, for they had come to the outskirts of town, and they could no longer pass easily on the road, for there was a funeral procession passing by. People stepped out of the way. An old crone looked up at the two of them and whistled softly. “ ’Tis nobility! Best we give way!”
    “Nay, woman!” Jamie said. “Hold your peace. All men are holden unto God, and we would not disturb those who grieve.” The woman stared at him and nodded slowly. Windwalker pawed the cold earth, impatient to be on, but Jamie held him still. He watched as a bony nag dragged a cart forward. There was a gable-roofed wooden coffin upon the cart, but Jamie saw that it was constructed so that the foot of the coffin would give way.
    Apparently the family had not been able to afford the cost of a permanent coffin. When the final words had been spoken, the shrouded corpse would be cast into the earth, and the coffin retrieved.
    The day was nearly as cold as the night had been. But behind the cart with the coffin walked a black-swathed woman. Slim but very straight, she did not cry; she made no noise and held herself with the greatest pride. Yet in the very stiffness of her spine, Jamie sensed something of her grief. Pain so great that she dared not give way to it.
    “Who has died?” Robert queried softly. The old crone snorted. “Linnet Dupré. Her Majesty, the actress. Though were ye to ask me, my fine lord, I’dsay that Master John as well as killed her, for he is a mean one. She never had no strength. Were it not for that girl of hers, she’d have languished in Newgate long ago.”
    Listening, Jamie frowned. A gust of wind caught the black hood on the woman’s head at last, causing it to fall about her shoulders. It was Jassy, the wench who had so fascinated him the night before. The thief.
    His jaw hardened for a moment, then he relaxed, and he almost smiled. Well, her fascination had been for Robert. And perhaps she had been stealing for a reason. Perhaps she had longed to buy a proper coffin.
    Or perhaps her mother had even lived and needed medication.
    “Why, look, ’tis the beautiful tavern wench!” Robert exclaimed.
    “Indeed,” Jamie agreed.
    “Perhaps we could help her. Perhaps we could be of service.”
    Jamie thought dryly of the night gone past and determined that she would not want any help from him. And yet she had taken the coin he had tossed her. He would never forget her eyes, though. They had burned like sapphires in the night, blue fire filled with hatred and a fierce, fighting spirit.
    There was more about her he might not forget, he reminded himself. She was beautiful, of course. She had all her teeth, and they were straight and good. Her skin was achingly soft. Her face was fragile and fine, high-boned, exquisite. She seemed like a fragile flower, and yet there was that tremendous strength to her. No one would ever hold her down, he thought with amusement. Then he felt a flash of heat, for he had held her, and that, too, would take time to forget. She might have been created with the hottest sensual pleasure her entire purpose, for though she was overly slim, she was sweetly lush, with wonderful, firm breasts, rose-crested, beautiful. Her back was long and sleek, her legs long and shapely. Her stomach dipped and her hips flared, andshe had been mercury to touch. She had left him aching in every conceivable way.
    She had wanted Robert, he reminded himself. Women never seemed to realize where true strength lay, for Robert could not provide what she had needed. He hadn’t the purse for it. Nor, for that matter, Jamie decided—with a certain arrogance, he was ready to admit—could his friend have provided what she needed in other ways. She was an innocent maid, but there was something about her that reminded him of his raw, untamed land. There was a