Free Burning Bright (Brambridge Novel 2) by Pearl Darling Page A

dishonorable, at least his younger self hadn’t been. He was nothing like his father.
    “Then I’d say you had good reason to do it.”
    James remained facing away from her. She took a step towards him. He still didn’t turn. Reaching out a hand, she touched gently at his sleeve.
    He whirled, his strong hand closing on her wrist. In silence they both looked at where his hot palm warmed her cool skin. One by one James peeled back his fingers and dropped his hand to his side.
    “Forgive me again,” he said, turning back to the fire.
    She waited but James said nothing. “I believe you wanted to speak to me about the school?”
    He nodded and walked over to the wall of paintings. He paced the length of the wall, glancing into every rustic frame. It was a surprise when he spoke again. “I wanted to know who pays you.”
    “The estate of course.” Harriet sank into a kitchen chair as surprise filled her. “At least, I thought it was the estate. Edgar pays me at the end of every month.”
    “Edgar.” James stopped and threw her a quick look before returning to the paintings. “I like these,” he said abruptly. “The use of dark and light is exemplary. It makes them feel very real.”
      “I’m sure you could find my wages in the estate accounts,” Harriet offered. “I receive three and six pence.”
    James gazed at her in obvious disbelief. “Three shillings and six pence?”
    She folded her arms around her body. “If that is too much, I’m sure I could take three and three pence, although my pupils will have to go without books for a while.”
    James leant forward as if he couldn’t see her clearly. “Harriet, don’t you understand you are being paid a pittance? In London those are lower than the wages of the children that sweep the chimneys.”
    “I don’t have much cause to go to London.”
    He softened his tones. “Harriet, whatever happened to the acting? Why did you choose to become a schoolmistress?”
    Harriet bowed her head. How could she ever tell him that when he had left her those years ago, she had panicked? As she had waited, the tide had washed to her feet, threatening to pick her up and push her against the bottom of the cliffs if she waited much longer. Following his path, she had entered the mine. And there she had stayed for six hours, lost in the darkness. Faint from lack of food and water, utterly alone.
    That was when she had decided to become a schoolmistress. Without James to save her yet again, her foolhardiness had nearly cost her life.
    Schoolmistresses didn’t need anyone to save them.
    But then again, nothing exciting ever happened to them.
    “It seemed like a good career for me,” she said in low tones. “I am well educated, and there was an opening.”
    James stood. Harriet gazed into the fire, shaking her head at a light warm touch to her head.
    “You look better with your hair free.” James stood in front of her, a serious expression still dominating his face. He touched one of her unruly locks again. “Even schoolmistresses should have holidays.”
    “I—”
    “I must go.” Without giving Harriet time to speak, James opened the cottage door and stepped out into the night. She watched as he passed the kitchen window and disappeared through the gate into the lane.
     

CHAPTER 8
     
    James nodded curtly at Edgar and Bill, who sat at separate tables in the Fountain Inn staring into their drinks. He had slept late, his usual nightmares replaced by recurring visions of falling timbers and choking dust, the shadowy figure coming closer and closer towards a chink of light. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, he did not pause and walked out into the yard where he had left Scorpius for a few moments whilst he had returned to fetch his telescope.
    What was the matter with him? He could barely think straight. It was unusual for him to have forgotten something. James rested his head against Scorpius’ flank and took a deep breath. First he had grabbed at Harriet as