Free Boyett-Compo Charlotte - Wind Tales 01 by Windfall Page B

filthy patched cambric shirts and rough-spun breeches. All the
    socks—what few there were—had been darned numerous times; each had at least one new hole in them
    and stunk to the heavens. The one pair of boots looked as though they had come from a trash heap. The
    solitary jacket was torn at one sleeve, missing its buttons, frayed at the collar; it, too, looked like a
    refugee from someone's castoff bin.
    And where was the food?
    Surely the village did not hate him so much they refused to sell him food! Or was there even
    money to buy food? she wondered. Looking about the room at all the faint outlines where portraits had
    obviously hung, she had to entertain the notion that he had sold what he could in order to survive.
    But why? Surely in five years time he had not gone through his wife's entire estate! The Lady Marie
    Sinclair had come from a filthy rich family. Was it not her sumptuous dowry that had purchased Kaelan
    Hesar's hand in marriage in the first place?
    The mere thought of Marie Sinclair drove a stake of brutal jealousy through Gillian's heart. It still hurt
    after all these years. After all the tears she had shed that June night five years ago....
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    Chapter Eleven: Five and a half years earlier: Tempest Keep
    “When are you going to speak to Papa?"
    Kaelan swiveled his head toward her. “Speak to him about what?"
    “Our marriage, silly."
    The Viragonian prince shrugged. “When you're old enough."
    “I am seventeen years old, now!"
    “Sixteen and a half,” Kaelan corrected. He reached up to tug on her braid. “Going on twelve."
    Gillian batted his hand away. “Be serious, milord. Adair's been married a full year; Adele, two. And
    Ruan will be wed before the end of the month."
    “And you can't wait to walk down that aisle, can you, brat?” he chuckled.
    “No, I can not!” She tossed him a cunning look. “And neither can you."
    Kaelan shrugged. “I suppose not now that you've caught me, child."
    “Me? Caught you?” she gasped, her young womanhood offended.
    “Aye!” he laughed, propping his head up on the palm of his hand. He looked up at her where she sat
    beside him on the grass. “You chased me like a hound to stag and look where I am.” He jerked his
    thumb toward the grass. “Run to ground as you would have me."
    “I did nothing of the sort,” she said, ignoring his snort. She looked out over the stream, smiling as a fish
    jumped in the deeper water. “Although I must admit you were like that fish in yon stream: you jumped
    around, poking your head up until the right fisherwoman came along to reel you in.” She heard him
    chuckle and turned to glare down at him. “You wanted to be reeled in, milord; admit it."
    “I'll admit nothing to you, brat,” he guffawed. “'Tis dangerous to do so."
    “Not even your affection for me?"
    Kaelan sobered. “That I will gladly admit.” He tweaked her nose with his free hand.
    “Yet for the life of me I don't know how you managed to get me to the point of contemplating marriage
    to a harridan such as you."
    “Come to think of it,” she said, putting a finger to her chin, “you've yet to kiss me to seal the betrothal."
    “There is no betrothal until your father agrees to it, brat,” he reminded her, although deep in his heart he
    knew he'd challenge Dakin Cree to a to-the-death duel rather than allow the man to forbid the betrothal.
    “Why,” she went on, pointedly disregarding his words, “you have not even asked me if I care to be
    shackled to a man such as yourself for the rest of my life!” She gasped, looking down at him with mock
    horror. “An old man such as yourself, at that!"
    Kaelan wagged his brows evilly at her. “Old man, is it?"
    “Aye,” she lamented. “Thirty, isn't it?” She shivered delicately. “My god, but that's practically middle
    age!"
    “Thirty, my ass,” he snarled. “I'm twenty-six and well you know it, brat."
    “Still,” she said with a long, drawn out sigh, “Rolf