The Heather Moon by Susan King Read Free Book Online

would never want a Musgrave for a good-son.
    "I dinna want a husband," she whispered fiercely, hearing the guards outside the door. "None want me—why should I want one of them? You've offered me to so many by now—"
    "But twelve or so," he said. "I've hardly begun."
    "Hardly begun!" An indignant squeak. "You've been searching for years, and each man has turned down the offer! Oh, some would like to bed a gypsy fast enough, but none will wed one, particularly one marked by evil at her birth!"
    "Tamsin," he said, sighing. "I wed a gypsy lass, and was happy with her, though 'twas brief. 'Tis sad, what some think about ye. Ye're a bonny lass, and we'll find ye a man."
    "Nay! 'Tis done! I willna wed any man who needs bribing or begging. Besides," she added, "we may well hang here."
    "I wouldna like to see ye hanged a maiden."
    "Oh, Da," she said in dismay. "What does it matter?"
    "Ah, but to see young Will Scott o' Rookhope again," he went on, as if he had not heard her. "'Twas nearly worth being caught!" He slid her a glance. She made sure to scowl at him.
    "And just what do you think Rookhope is doing here?" she asked crisply. "No holy day visit, I assure you! And dinna dare to ask him if he wants a wife," she added hastily. "We are in muckle trouble, Da. Think of that, and naught else."
    "I do think of it. If my life is forfeit, then I want someone to look after ye, and after Merton Rigg, when I'm gone."
    "If we live through this, then I will take care of Merton Rigg. And I will take care of you and Uncle Cuthbert. Just give up your notion that some man will take me for a wife."
    "There was a lad for ye, once," her father muttered.
    "What did you say?" She peered at him.
    He stirred. "I'll see what I can do, is all. I'll see."
    "Oh, aye. The executioner will put the rope on you, and you'll ask if he's wed, and would he take a one-handed gypsy."
    "I might do that," he said, and winked at her, though it made him wince. "Tamsin, listen to me. What I want for ye is this—a man who doesna care about yer small hand, or the hue o' yer skin, but who warms yer heart and ye his, like a hearthfire." He grinned. "And he must be as fine a rascal as yer own father."
    "Da," she said, touched deeply. "Thank you. But there's no rascal like you." She gave him a fond smile. "I wonder—perhaps we can get out of this after all, by agreeing to Musgrave, as Rookhope says we must."
    Archie grunted. "I'd rather hang. I'll be dead by down of sun, and pray yer pardon."
    "You will be safe." Tamsin touched his wrist, bound like hers. He opened that hand. "The line of your life is long and deep." She hoped to reassure him, and herself.
    "Och, 'Gyptian tricks again? Ye spend too much time wi' yer gypsy granddame. I let ye travel wi' the gypsies, and ye learned some wicked heathen ways." His tone teased her again.
    "'Tis hardly wicked to read a life story in the lines in a hand, if God put the story there Himself. The Romany know how to read the lines, is all," she said.
    "Many pay good silver to have their palms read. Though I never saw much use in it, myself—or wickedness, to be true. But I will say, yer gypsy kin taught ye a knack wi' the picture cards. Hah, and no one can beat ye at card games. A good skill, that one." He smiled.
    She tapped his hand with her fingertip. "You will outlive us all. You're too stubborn—and too lucky—to go so soon."
    "Eh, my luck willna last forever." He sighed. "Tamsin, if I'm truly about to die, ye must know this," he said solemnly. "My dearest dream is that ye should wed Rookhope's son. I have wanted that since ye were born and he but a wee bit lad. Allan wanted it too."
    She had never heard this before, and she wondered if his head injury, and their dilemma, made him sentimental toward his beloved friend's son. "Da," she said gently, "dreams are fine at night, but they come to naught in the day. Let this one go."
    "Dreams can come to much, if ye never give them up," he said. "'This is my fond dream, which I've