Free I Thee Wed by Celeste Bradley

tilted as she considered the girl like a new breed of insect.
    Francesca tried not to laugh at the funny creature below her. She had not appreciated laughter when she was that age. So she leaned her hands on the finely wrought iron railing of the library and looked down upon the child beneath her very seriously.
    After a moment, the girl spoke up. “How long have you lived here?”
    â€œNearly six months now. How long have you been here?”
    â€œI came yesterday. My brother tied me up and packed me in his trunk. It took me all night to get out. I’m considering calling the magistrate and pressing charges.”
    Francesca had once been a bored, clever child. She remembered very well the urge to fabricate entertaining stories.
    â€œI was tied up in a trunk once,” she said. “Of course, I don’t have a brother, so I had to depend on a giant to do the job.”
    The little girl sat up straight and folded her hands neatly in her lap. “You’re a very good liar.” Her voice held a tinge of admiration.
    Francesca felt a ridiculous spurt of pride at such praise. A grown woman should not, probably, engage in a contest of creative lies with a child. However, the conversation had so far for her proved to be one of the most interesting she’d had since entering this house.
    She wondered if the child would allow her to come down without running away. There was only one way to find out. “Will you allow me to come down without your running away?”
    The little girl seemed to accept Francesca’s olive branch of frankness.
    She nodded. “I won’t run away if you won’t.”
    Francesca tried not to smile. Orion Worthington’s little sister, as she must be, was proving to be nearly as interesting as her brother.
    As she picked up her skirts and climbed nimbly down the spiral stairs, she continued her story. “It all started when the giant chased me from the kitchen with a wooden spoon.” That was actually true. “I was trying to add herbs to a lovely Bolognese sauce when the giant caught me in the act. He picked up a spoon the size of a club that whistled through the air as he swept it over his head.” Still truth. She gained the first floor and grinned at the child. “So I jumped into the trunk to hide from him. He wrapped it with the twine he uses on the goose feet and tried to bury me in the kitchen garden. I escaped, using the herbs to make myself sneeze so hard that the trunk bounced out of the hole and broke open directly.”
    â€œNot bad.” The girl pursed her lips and nodded. “The bit about the sauce is good. I don’t know if I believe you about the giant.”
    Francesca snorted. “Go down to the kitchens and have a look for yourself.” She approached the seated girl and stuck out her hand. “I am—”
    The child ignored her hand. “Francesca Penrose, the daughter of Sir Geoffrey’s half brother, Francis Penrose.” The girl finished the sentence for her. “You’re nothing like Miss Judith Blayne. You are dark where she is fair, and you were born in Italy.”
    â€œMy friends call me Chessa.” Francesca dropped her hand and shrugged slightly. “My mother’s family is Italian. You are Orion Worthington’s sister. Are you a constellation as well?”
    â€œAtalanta. Just a minor Greek half deity. We are all named for some myth. But Rion and I are both hunters.”
    Atalanta the Huntress, reluctant to lose her freedom to marriage, would marry only a man who could win a race against her. She outran all her suitors until one clever fellow distracted her by throwing golden apples in her path. Francesca, who sympathized greatly with the mythological woman who saw no point in marriage, nodded.
    And “we all”? How many Worthington siblings were there? Unlike many people who dearly loved talking, Francesca was also an excellent listener. If she was careful,