Free Edith Layton by The Challenge Page B

are for higher reasoning. Hearts speak of bodily matters. We need both in this life, working in tandem. Don’t abuse a faithful servant. You might try listening to it again. Your heart won you something wonderful, didn’t it?—Give you good evening, Master Jamie.”
    Jamie grinned and executed a proper bow, because he’d been allowed to dine with his idol, and wanted nothing to change that. His face was scrubbed, his hair damp from recent combing. His jacket, Lucy noticed, was suddenly too short in the arms, because she could see more of his wrists than the day before. His reddened hands were becoming too big for his boy’s body, the wrists rawboned in contrast, making him look so very vulnerable. Her heart clenched. Yes. This was worth it all, every bit of it .
    She nodded at Wycoff, and he smiled. They’d discussed the thing and settled it without a word. Her heart leapt again as she realized it. Rebellious, wicked thing, she thought, and tried to steady her heartbeat. But it kept thumping at her ribs, as she kept reminding herself a week, only a week, a week, only a week , in tune with the beating of her foolish, susceptible, treacherous heart.

6
    T he Swallow, in Richmond, was a fine inn. The richness of the furnishings in the front room proclaimed it was for persons of quality. The furniture was from the old world, the floors were solid oak from the new, dappled with carpets from the east. It was quiet and elegant and, like all such establishments everywhere in the world, it did not give out information about its guests.
    “I’m sorry,” the clerk at the desk told William without a trace of sorrow, “but it is against our policy.”
    William took a coin from his pocket and laid it on the polished desk. The fellow just looked at it. William sighed and took out another—but didn’t put it down. Because he finally saw exactly how the fellow was looking at the first one. As though it hadthousands of little legs. William scooped up his coin. “Look you,” he said through clenched teeth, “all I want is to know something about this ‘Perkins’ who’s staying here. I mean no harm.”
    “I never said you did, sir. But I cannot. If you’d wish to leave a note?” The clerk motioned toward another desk across the room.
    “Yes!” William said eagerly, and headed for the desk. But he’d no sooner seated himself, pulled out a sheet of paper, picked up a pen and uncapped the inkwell, than the thought struck him. He laid down the pen, a snarl on his lips. He couldn’t address a note simply to “Perkins.” Was it “Mistress,” or “Mister”? Or, since it might be an Englishman, something with a title in front of it? He laid down the pen, defeated. But only for a moment.
    If he could find the stableboy messenger Alfred had talked about—but he never took notice of bondsmen or servants. Alfred’s unhelpful description of “a likely lad, about yea high, with a ready smile” didn’t help. And who was to say the lad was still in Richmond? But William was determined. He vowed he’d find this “Perkins” Wycoff kept writing to, and in that way find more out about the man who was well on his way to seducing Lucy.
    That was all it could be, William was sure. A seduction. Wycoff surely had little else in mind. Well, who wouldn’t want her? As a lover. But as a wife? Only a fellow like himself, who lived in the area and couldn’t travel far to seek elsewhere would take such as Lucy to wife. She had charm and allure,to be sure. But she was a woman with a child and no money, and handsome as she was, not in the first blush of youth. Not a bride for a fellow with Wycoff’s funds. Certainly not one for a man of his obvious background. Which was education, breeding, money—and mist. A lack of information to hide what he really was. He obviously meant to be gone as soon as he got what he wanted. Which was what William wanted, but he was willing to offer his hand— if Wycoff didn’t get her body first.
    William