The Prisoner by Karyn Monk Read Free Book Online Page B

strangely at ease in his presence as he slept, as if she had known him for years and had no reason to feel either threatened or self-conscious.
    Now that he was awake, however, she didn’t feel at ease in the least.
    â€œDid you…help him?”
    She regarded him blankly.
    â€œThe boy,” Haydon explained, laboring to form the words. “Did you help him…free me?”
    Her initial inclination was to assure him that she most certainly had not. But that wasn’t quite true, she realized. She had watched Jack clandestinely lift the keys from the warder’s belt. Instead of stopping him, she had created an enormous fuss to distract the jailer from noticing. In the ensuing melee, she had not set out to find Jack promptly and bring him back to Governor Thomson’s office as she should have. Instead, she had waited nervously for him to finish whatever his business was and reappear.
    Had she not at least suspected his intent—especially after Jack’s insistence that she take this condemned man with her in addition to him?
    â€œI am not in the habit of breaking convicted criminals out of prison.” She was unsure if she was trying to convince herself or him.
    â€œYou took Jack out.”
    â€œBy completely legal means, with Governor Thomson’s knowledge and consent,” she retorted. “Furthermore, Jack is only a boy, and should never have been sent to prison in the first place.”
    â€œNor should I.” It was an enormous effort just to talk. He wearily closed his eyes.
    His brow was furrowed and his jaw clenched, indicating he was experiencing pain. Genevieve wet a cloth and pressed it lightly against his forehead, trying to ease his discomfort. A stifled groan escaped his lips. She removed the cloth, dipped it in cool water once more, and began to skim it over his face.
    What kind of a man would rise to the defense of a young thief, when he himself was so racked with fever and pain he could barely stand? she wondered. Jack had told her that this man had been gravely ill and injured even before he rose from his bed, tore the prison warder off Jack and threw him across the cell. Surely he must have known that in his condition he could not possibly win a battle against Warder Sims. And he had not even befriended the lad. According to Jack, they had scarcely exchanged a half-dozen words with each other in the entire time they had shared a cell.
    For a convicted murderer, he was capable of remarkable compassion and nobility.
    His head dropped to one side and his breathing grew deep, indicating that he had fallen asleep. Genevieve leaned over him and gently lay her hand against his brow. He was still overly hot, but not with the same burning intensity he had suffered an hour earlier. Still, experience in dealing with the children’s fevers had taught her that the body’s temperature could drop and then suddenly flare again with alarming speed. She would have to monitor him carefully to try to make sure that didn’t happen. She adjusted the blankets over him, then picked up the tray Eunice had prepared, intending to return it to the kitchen and bring up some fresh water.
    â€œStay.”
    His voice was rough, making it sound more a command than a plea. But his blue eyes were clouded with fever and desperation, and she knew that he was not trying to intimidate her.
    â€œI shall only be gone a few moments,” she assured him.
    He shook his head. “They will come for me soon and I will be hanged. Until then, stay. Please.”
    â€œThey will come and I will send them away,” Genevieve returned emphatically. “They need not know you are here.”
    His eyes widened slightly in surprise. And then they closed, as if he no longer had the strength to keep them open.
    Genevieve hesitated.
    And then she set the tray down and returned to her chair, preparing to stay by his side for the rest of the night.

Chapter Three

    C EASE YER POUNDIN