The Bride's Farewell by Meg Rosoff Read Free Book Online Page A

murmured to him, and picked him up in her arms. He weighed little enough, but she was tired too. Wandering farther, she saw an old man holding two identical brown geldings, and the buyer who examined them merely an outline in the sinking light. Behind him stood another man, one she recognized even as a silhouette, with the shaggy deerhounds at his side.
    His dogs had a quality that made her think of stag hunts and kings. The male stood nearly motionless with his head up, ears pricked, nose rising and falling gently to pick up scents in the wind, while the bitch trembled. Pell didn’t like the anxious feeling flowing off her. You couldn’t say they were handsome dogs, with their broken fawn coats and long noses, but there was a certain nobility and a good deal of greyhound in them and when their owner turned and showed his profile she shivered, and wondered if there might not be a good deal of greyhound in him as well.
    As she watched from the shadows, the first man checked over every inch of the brown cobs, felt their knees and examined their teeth, while the owner looked on, silent. He had pulled one slightly forward, and Pell knew he meant to sell that one, despite pretending the buyer should choose whichever he preferred and it made no difference to him.
    “Not a grain of sand between them,” said the owner proudly. “Ought to sell them as a pair, but seeing as how you’ve got your heart set on just the one—”
    The buyer hesitated and Pell stepped up close behind Dogman and indicated the horse standing at the front. “Not that one.”
    He turned just enough to see who she was. Nightfall had erased the detail of his face but his eyes crackled with gold sparks.
    She nodded at the horse standing back. “That’s the one.”
    The owner caught the nod and made a spluttering noise. “Nothing one’s got the other hasn’t. Better stick to something you know, miss .” He looked from her to Bean with a sneer.
    Pell said nothing, held fast by the black-and-gold eyes. At last, with a great effort of will, she freed herself and left.
    Later that night the two men reappeared, one leading the big gelding, the good one. Dogman crouched down at his fire, blew gently on it to ignite the smoldering embers, and lit his pipe. The other man approached her. His voice was sharp. “I’d give something to know what you saw between those two. They looked as like as sparrows to me.”
    She didn’t know him, and he hadn’t thanked her either.
    “Well?”
    “If you’d bothered trotting them out,” she said at last, “you’d have seen how weak the other was behind.”
    The man frowned, his face all doubt. “Weak?”
    Pell looked past him. He could think what he liked.
    “You’re quite sure of your own opinions, Miss . . . ?”
    Take it or leave it, she thought. There was nothing in it for her.
    Dogman watched her face carefully, but Pell was looking at his hounds now, noticing for the first time that under the dense tawny coat his bitch had a full set of hanging teats. So that’s why she looked anxious. Poor thing.
    “Can you do that horse trick more than once?” The man again.
    She bristled. “Trick?”
    “Can you spot a good horse in a crowd? Because if you can it’d be worth something to me.”
    “How much?”
    Behind his friend’s back, Dogman grinned. The other man merely blinked.
    “Well,” he said, regaining his composure, “if you can choose half a dozen sound horses, one hundred guineas to spend, there’ll be five pounds in it for you.”
    The sum was far more than she would have dared ask, and Pell said nothing for a long moment, struggling against an urge to shout assent. “All right,” she said at last, “if you’ll bother telling me your name.”
    “Harris,” he said, bowing with exaggerated politeness. “Does that suit you?”
    She looked straight into his eyes and tried to fathom him. And then she almost laughed, because the truth was she needed the money so badly that it didn’t matter