Free Mask of Duplicity (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 1) by Julia Brannan Page A

him, as she now did. She followed him and stood in the doorway, hands on her hips.
    “If you don’t do as I ask, I will go and ask Richard. I will not have my friends and employees abused by him behind my back. Take off your shirt.”
    He did, reluctantly, and stood facing her, shivering slightly for a moment before turning round so she could see his back. She gasped in horror, her face paling to almost the same shade as his.
    “My God, John,” she breathed. “What has he done to you?”
    The young man’s back was a mass of red welts, which spanned from his shoulders to his waist. Some of the stripes were partially healed, others were still fresh. Where she had gripped his shoulders she had scraped some of the scabs off, and a thin trickle of blood ran down his back.
    “I...he...he was not pleased with my work,” John said, lamely.
    “What did he beat you with? His riding crop?”
    “No, he had a switch. He...”
    Now the initial shock of seeing his injuries was over, Beth had moved into the barn, closer to him, and was examining the wounds in more detail. They were not the result of one beating, but at least two, maybe more. This had been going on for some time.
    “I will not tolerate this,” Beth said, very quietly. “Why did you not tell me?”
    John turned to face her, but did not answer. She made a decision, and swirled away.
    “What are you going to do?” John cried.
    “Firstly I’m going to destroy that switch of his. Then I’m going to wait for him to come home. I cannot let this go, John. I’m sorry.”
    In desperation John stepped forward and grabbed her arm to stop her leaving. He swung her round to face him.
    “No! He said that if I told you, he would kill me. I believe him, Beth,” John said, his voice desperate.
    The sunlight coming through the open door suddenly diminished.
    “And so you should, boy,” a cold voice came from behind Beth. John let go of her arm as though it had burnt him and backed off into the shadows. Beth spun round to see her brother in the doorway of the barn, leaning nonchalantly on the doorpost.
    “I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I disturb your little tryst by my early return? Although it’s as well I did. After all, you would be no use to me if you were ruined. I presume even you will now agree to the boy’s dismissal, after he has tried to seduce you.”
    Beth’s hand went instinctively to the knife concealed in her pocket and stayed there.
    “He has done no such thing, and well you know it. Why are you victimising him, Richard? Or are all my staff wearing a uniform of stripes?” Beth fought to control her temper, to remain rational.
    Richard moved away from the post and took a step into the barn.
    “May I remind you that they are my staff now,” he said acidly. “Many of them deserve chastisement, yes, for their lack of respect. But they show signs of coming round without it. This,” he waved his hand in the direction of John, who was cowering in the shadows, “persists in his impertinence. I see now that he will not learn his place, no matter what I do.”
    “You can stop this ridiculous pretence now, Richard,” Beth said, her voice shaking with rage. “You tried to dismiss him once, and I stopped you. You have decided to drive him away with violence instead. I know what this is about. You are trying to get rid of him because he saw you make a fool of yourself the day you arrived. That is the real reason, is it not?” She saw his mouth twist, and knew she had hit on the truth.
    “I will not discuss this here. John, you are dismissed.” Richard turned to leave, with a contemptuous gesture.
    The knife thudded into the doorpost no more than an inch from his head, and stuck there, quivering. Richard leapt instinctively to one side, then whirled to face his sister, who was standing rigidly before him, her fists clenched at her side. He looked from her to the knife in disbelief.
    “I have not finished yet,” she shouted. “You are very free with