The River of Souls by Robert McCammon Read Free Book Online Page B

kissed it, but decorum prevailed. 
    She had been weathered in her twenty-eight years, primarily by her ordeal of being accused of witchcraft in that nasty situation and her months facing the stake and the flames, but she was still very youthful and indeed as beautiful as Matthew remembered. Her heart-shaped face with a small cleft in the chin was framed by the fall of her long, thick midnight-black hair. Her eyes were pale amber-brown, verging on a fascinating golden hue, and her skin color was near mahogany as bespoke her Portuguese heritage. She was altogether twice as beautiful, Matthew thought, as Pandora Prisskitt considered herself thrice to be. And Matthew knew Rachel’s soul as well, which was also a dwelling of beauty. 
    But also, he knew where the so-called “devil’s marks” were on her naked body, and these little dark marks and flecks that appeared on everyone’s flesh had almost sent her skin flaming. He had been her champion and had saved her from that imprisonment and from that fire, and the last he had seen of her was when he had left her to claim her own future in Fount Royal, and to find his own in the greater town of New York. 
    “I am amazed !” she said, with a smile that might have been described as giddy. She appeared to be about to throw herself into his arms, yet she was restraining her forward motion. “Matthew! What are you doing here ?” 
    “On business from New York,” he replied, in a steadfast tone. “I’m a problem-solver now.” 
    “Oh? People pay you to solve their problems?” 
    “Yes, that’s about it.” 
    “If so, then,” she said, “I owe you quite the chestful of gold coins. I cannot believe I am seeing you! Just out here, in the broad daylight!” 
    “I was in attendance last night at the Sword of Damocles Ball.” 
    Rachel made a face as if the midday odors had come early. “Oh, with those people? Surely you haven’t become—” 
    “One of them? If I gather your meaning correctly, I hope not. I was hired as an escort for one of the local ladies. The story is a bit complicated, but I survived the sword.” And conquered with the comb, he thought. “But you …what are you doing here?” Did he feel his heart flutter just a bit, under her golden gaze? He had fought a bear to save her life, and bore the scar for that. Perhaps there was another scar that ran a bit deeper? 
    “Well, I…” She suddenly looked to her left. “David! You must meet this young man!” 
    Matthew followed her line of sight. A tall gent in a tan-colored suit and a darker brown tricorn was coming across the street. He paused to allow a carriage to pass by, and then he continued onward. He was smiling and healthy-looking and appeared to be in his early thirties. He walked with a purposeful stride, a man of energy and means. 
    “This is David, my husband,” Rachel told the young problem-solver from New York. “I am Rachel Stevenson now.” She smiled again, a little awkwardly, as if she could hardly believe this herself. “A doctor’s wife!” 
    “Ah,” said Matthew, whose hand extended almost of its own accord toward the approaching master of this beautiful woman’s heart. He said, with his own smile fixed in place, “I am Matthew Corbett, sir, and I am very pleased to meet you.” 
    They shook hands. The doctor had a grip that might put someone’s hand in need of a doctor. “David Stevenson.” He had a sharp-featured, handsome face and very blue eyes, which now blinked with sudden recognition. “Oh! You are the one!” And so saying, he rushed upon Matthew and hugged him and clapped Matthew upon the back with such fervor that a half-digested orange muffin nearly popped out. Then the good doctor Stevenson seized Matthew by both shoulders and grinned in his face with the power of the Carolina sun and said, “I thank God you were born, sir! I thank God that you did not give up on Rachel, when others might have. And I see the scar, and I know what you did for the