The Royal Handmaid by Gilbert Morris Read Free Book Online Page A

eye?”
    Rena stood rigidly, angry to the bone. She could not show her anger to the group, though, and when she spoke again it took considerable effort to keep her voice calm. “We’re all agreed, then.”
    “Don’t worry,” Dalton said, putting his arm around Rena and smiling at the group. “We’ll be sure that he knows his place.”
    Jeanne Vernay, Rena’s best friend, had said nothing, but now she asked, “What does he look like, Rena? I suppose he’s pretty shoddy?”
    “Oh, he’s not bad looking, Jeanne, but he’s pretty roughhewn and dresses like a day laborer.” Rena gave her friend a direct look. “We’re not taking him because of his looks.”
    Jeanne laughed aloud and winked at Dalton. “Better check him over, Dalton. He sounds like one of those rugged romantic types. He might try to steal your girl.”
    “No danger of that.” Dalton shrugged nonchalantly, but then he looked at Rena curiously. “I got the idea from what you said that he’s a pretty homely fellow.”
    Jeanne was delighted with his reaction. She and Rena had competed with each other since their childhood. Both were attractive, wealthy, and liked to get their own way. “Tell us more about Travis Winslow, Rena. You’ve got me curious now.”

CHAPTER FOUR
    The Black Sheep
    As Loren Matthews stepped onto the deck of the Mary Anne, a strange, unexpected fear sliced through him. Loren loved the sea, but to him it was like a woman who could smile and act charming, but who could also turn cold and cruel without warning. He took in the azure sky. A flight of gulls divided overhead in evanescent shapes, making a kaleidoscopic pattern. The sharp salt smell of the sea surrounded him, and the sun glinted on the small white-crested waves that expanded out into the Pacific. The sun burned a white hole in the sky, and the heat of July was modified by the freshness of the westerly wind. He looked back at the land, and the hazy hills of San Francisco appeared to be brooding over some sullen thought.
    “Welcome aboard, Loren.”
    The speaker was a muscular man of forty, prematurely gray and weathered to a golden tan by years of exposure. His frosty blue eyes were friendly, and when he put out his hand, he almost crushed Loren’s with his grip. He was a powerful man in spirit as well as body and a friend as well as employee of Loren Matthews.
    “How are you, Caleb?”
    “Finer than frog hair! We’ve got good weather for the trip.” Caleb Barkley locked his hands behind his back and studied Loren Matthews. “Wish you were going with us. Sure you won’t change your mind?”
    “I wouldn’t be any good on this trip—much as I’d like togo.” Loren suddenly looked embarrassed. “I suppose you think, like everyone else, that I’m a fool for financing this expedition.”
    “I’ve never known you to do a fool thing. I don’t expect you’re starting now.”
    “Well, Caleb, I’ve been worried about this trip. They’re not exactly a hardened crew.”
    “They’ll make out fine,” Barkley said. “It looks like it’ll be an easy passage if the weather holds out like this. Smooth sailing all the way.”
    Continuing their conversation, the two men turned and walked away. As they disappeared down the hatchway, Travis stepped up onto deck, where he was stopped by a massive individual who had planted himself in his way. “What’s your business?” the burly man grumbled. “No trespassing on the ship.”
    Travis studied the man. He had black hair and a pair of intent hazel eyes. His nose looked like it had been broken, and his face bore other marks of past battles. Travis estimated he was in his late twenties and easily weighed more than two hundred pounds. “I’m Travis Winslow. I’m one of the passengers.”
    “I’m Cerny Novak. I guess you’re all right, then.”
    Two other members of the crew had paused in their deck chores to study the newcomer. “You’re one of them preachers, ain’t ya?”
    “I’m afraid so,