Free The Dutch Girl by Donna Thorland

accommodation, with the contents of his purse intact. And so will you. As for the contents of the coach . . . well, everything my brother claims to own is mine by right. Andries has stolen the estate from me by lies and judicial legerdemain, as I’ll prove, eventually. For now, though, I’ll be taking the Harenwyck gold into custody for safekeeping, along with all the other luxuries my brother imports from New York.”
    His eyes swept over Anna in a frank appraisal and she suddenly realized the truth: he
didn’t
recognize her.
    She should have felt relief. Instead, she felt something very much like jealousy. She had never been jealous of her students, never resented them for being born with more than she had worked to have. But those afternoons with Gerrit behind the church had been the closest she had come to romance in all her thirty-two years.
    And he had forgotten her. And, like Tarleton, he assumed she was for sale.
    â€œI think you mistake the nature of my business with your brother,” she said.
    He looked as though he was surprised that she could speak. “Do I?” he asked, one dark eyebrow subtly lifted. “Then pray tell me, what does bring you to Harenwyck, milady?”
    His mock courtesy galled her. She wanted to wipe the superior expression off his face. She wanted to tellhim that he’d once been better than his father and his brother. She wanted to tell him the truth: that his wretched family had cast a pall over her life that stretched as far as New York—but telling him that would only get her hanged, so she said, “Your brother has hired me as a tutor.”
    â€œFor private instruction and from a very fine
academy
, I have no doubt.”
    She should have kept the pistol with her in the carriage, or at the very least made her knives more accessible. One of the slim blades might do quite nicely. Gerrit Van Haren had not only grown up, but had inflated into a bladder much in need of a sharp poke.
    â€œI do
not
run a cavaulting school. It is a finishing academy for young ladies.”
    â€œI will take your word that it is a proper nunnery,” replied Gerrit, easily. “And I do look forward to enjoying the tuition that Andries has paid for, but just at this moment, I’m rather preoccupied. Mr. Ten Broeck, you may step down, and join Edwaert and Dirck and your driver for a lovely evening walk to the old mill, or you can be dragged out of the carriage and frog-marched cross-country barefoot. The choice is yours.”
    Gerrit stepped aside. Mr. Broeck shot a worried look at Anna and then climbed down. Before she could follow, Gerrit vaulted into the compartment and blocked her escape. Without ceremony he snatched up her stockinged ankles and lifted them back onto the bench. Instinct, honed under the tutelage of the Widow, took over, and she twisted and dove for the opposite door.
    In the enclosed space his superior size was a decided advantage. He reached around her and seized the door handle before she could touch it, then held it fast. “You’re very lithe for a schoolteacher,” he said pleasantly. “But I confess I am wounded. Was Mr. Ten Broeck such better company?”
    He didn’t wait for an answer before settling comfortably on the bench opposite. Then, quite coldly, he added, “Don’t try it again, or I’ll tie you to the roof with the other baggage.”
    She knew that he meant it. She might have mistaken his
immediate
intentions, but no matter what kind of boy Gerrit Van Haren had been, he was clearly a different man now, and a dangerous one.
    She tucked her feet up under her on the bench. The carriage seemed far smaller than when it had been occupied by just her and Broeck, especially with Gerrit leaning over the boxes on the floor. He produced a knife from his pocket and cut the leather strapping that held her possessions together atop the patroon’s strongbox.
    The carriage swayed on its springs.