Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 112133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 561(@200wpm)___ 449(@250wpm)___ 374(@300wpm)
“Sorry,” he’d said. “That’s all I have today.”
That kiss had been her favorite gift of all.
And oh, how it made her yearn for more. But for all that his hard work and sweet gestures were chipping away at her own reluctance, she’d yet to make a dent in his. No matter how she tempted him, directly or indirectly, after his dinner he always left and retreated to the high moor. It disappointed her, and not only because she’d much rather have him sleeping in her bed. Rhys was missing out on all this nightly camaraderie. He would never truly become a part of the village and be accepted by the locals if he didn’t mingle with them outside of work. Give them a chance to take his measure, not just his coin.
Was he even giving her that chance? Even in their private conversations, Meredith realized, he always encouraged her to do most of the talking. It was only just becoming clear to her that for all she knew about him, Rhys was a difficult man to truly know. What was it he’d said?
Like a damned boulder.
She’d yet to find his cracks.
“How are you faring?” she asked Cora as she reached the bar. “Why don’t you go have a cup of tea in the kitchen? I’ll do the serving for a bit.”
“Are you sure?” Cora blew a stray hair from her face. “Shall I make enough for you, too?”
Meredith shook her head. “No, but my father might like a spot of tea brought up to his room. And a slice of buttered toast, perhaps.”
“I’ll be glad to, Mrs. Maddox.”
Someone opened the door, and a cool burst of wind swept through. Meredith thought, not for the first time that evening, about Rhys sleeping out alone on the barren moor. Was he cold? Was he hungry? Was he safe? She couldn’t help but worry about him.
“Oh, Lord,” Cora muttered. “It’s him.”
A cheer rose up from the assembly. Meredith glimpsed Gideon by the entrance as the crowd parted around him. True to his word, he hadn’t interfered with the construction plans—he’d even helped on occasion, hauling wagonloads of lumber and straw, along with increased amounts of ale and foodstuffs to keep the workers fed. But Meredith suspected his increased presence in the neighborhood was mostly selfish in motivation. Gideon wanted to keep a watchful eye on his smuggled goods and his enemy.
Tonight, however, he appeared to be here to have fun. Wearing a devil-may-care grin, he worked the crowd with his usual charm.
“Don’t you like Mr. Myles?” she asked Cora.
“Doesn’t matter what I think of him. I can tell he doesn’t like me.” She wiped her hands on her apron. “Struts around, orders me about.”
“You, girl,” Gideon called from across the room. “Look lively and pour me a brandy.”
“See?” Cora whispered. “And the way he stares at me …”
“They all stare at you.”
“Not like he does. I think he knows what I was. You know, before.”
Meredith bit her lip, wishing she’d never said anything to Gideon about Cora’s past. “Trust me,” she soothed, “it’s not that he doesn’t like you. He likes you too much, that’s all. You have the poor man turned arse over ears, and he’s scrabbling to pretend he’s still in control.”
Gideon approached the bar, eyeing Cora with a lustful gaze.
“What brings you in tonight?” Meredith asked.
“For one cause and another, I feel like celebrating.” His eyes never left the barmaid. “Thought I ordered a brandy.”
“I’ll pour it for you,” Meredith interjected. “Cora was just going off for her break.”
“Oh, was she now?” His jaw slid back and forth, as though he were chewing on a decision. “In that case …”
He turned, went to the largest table in the center of the room, and upended it with a spectacular crash. Meredith gasped, and Cora gave a little shriek. The men who’d been huddled on stools around it all leapt to their feet. Of course, this being Gideon, they didn’t argue back. But no one in the tavern—Meredith included—knew what the devil he meant to do.
Gideon shoved the now-vertical table to the far edge of the room, kicking the vacated stools to the sides as he went. Then he strode back to the bar. His boots echoed off the flagstones with each swaggering step. Meredith had known the man from childhood, but she’d never seen such determination in his eyes, nor such raw, open yearning.
“If Miss Dunn isn’t tending the bar”—in an explosion of agile strength, he vaulted the countertop and slid over to their side, landing between Meredith and Cora—“then she’s free to dance.” He swept her into his arms.
“Oh, la.” Cora’s cheeks blazed red.
Well, Meredith thought to herself. Wasn’t it romance the girl had been wanting?
“Tewkes!” Gideon called, his eyes never leaving Cora’s face.
In the corner, Darryl startled. “Aye, Mr. Myles?”