A Bouquet of Thorns Read Online Free
window to let in the fresh May sunshine when angry shouts and Gospelâs bellicose neighing reached her ears. She couldnât see into the yard, as it was at the opposite end of the house through a high wall, but she would recognize Gospelâs outraged protests anywhere, and it brought a satisfied smirk to her face. Good old Gospel. She hoped he was giving Ned hell!
She had known Ned Cornish for years. Ignorant and uncouth, he had been the stable boy at the Albert Inn in Princetown. Before Molly had married Joe and gone to live at the powder mills, Rose had always given Ned sixpence to look after Gospel whenever she went to visit her friend at her parentsâ home in the prison barracks and then later in the wardersâ new accommodation block. Ned and Gospel had never mixed, the animalâs teeth often finding a good grip on Nedâs flesh, but Ned had always put up with it in the hope that he would be rewarded with more than a sixpenny piece.
He never was, for Rose was always one step ahead of him, until Charles had employed him to take care of their own horses â Gospel, Charlesâs liver chestnut, Tansy, and Merlin, the roan who went in harness. Ned had bided his time, waiting for the opportunity to waylay Rose in one of the stables. He hadnât got very far. At the time, Rose had been irritated rather than cross, seeing Ned as no more than a nuisance, but he was shrewder than he looked. She had threatened to tell Charles, but he had observed Charlesâs jealous attitude and had pointed out that she might come off worse! Ever since, the rancour had simmered in Nedâs evil little mind, until he had found a way to get back at her refusal to grant him what he had sought for so long. He it was who had discovered the whereabouts of the escaped convict, and had surreptitiously gone off to the prison to claim his five pounds reward. Now Rose hated him, and if Gospel was kicking and biting him, well, nothing could please her more.
A smile found its way to her lips, and she sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her swollen stomach. The moment of contentment made her consider her unborn child for the first time since Sethâs recapture. Would the poor thing come into a happy home? Hardly. And she wasnât sure herself that she really wanted it. Someone elseâs child, yes, someone she loved. But not Charles. Someone . . . May the dear Lord forgive her, but someone more like Seth Warrington.
Once again, the anguish crippled her. Though it tore at her spirit, she would be good. Do whatever Charles wished until he released her from the room. And
then
she would see what was to be done.
Florrie arrived in Princetown on the carrierâs cart and then had to allow her thick, arthritic legs to bring her all the way to the back door of Fencott Place. She was like an unstoppable whirlwind, marching through into the hallway and demanding to speak to the master. From upstairs, Rose had heard her familiar voice raised in unprecedented anger, and her heart had soared. Florrie was back!
Had Rose seen Charlesâs face, she would have broken into a bitter, sardonic laugh. He was so astonished both at Florrieâs unexpected reappearance and at her belligerent attitude, when she had always shown him such cool deference before, that he stepped out of his study with his jaw dangling open quite stupidly. It had never crossed his mind that she looked upon Rose as her daughter, and that if the situation demanded it â which it evidently did just now â she would be willing to fight tooth and nail for her.
âTheyâve just teld me in the kitchen that youâm keeping my Rose locked up in her room!â she exploded, remembering the exact words Rose had instructed her to say, since Charles must not know of the letter and how little Patsy had secretly posted it for her. âI comes back here to help her prepare for the babby, and find youâm treating her like a criminal! You
She had known Ned Cornish for years. Ignorant and uncouth, he had been the stable boy at the Albert Inn in Princetown. Before Molly had married Joe and gone to live at the powder mills, Rose had always given Ned sixpence to look after Gospel whenever she went to visit her friend at her parentsâ home in the prison barracks and then later in the wardersâ new accommodation block. Ned and Gospel had never mixed, the animalâs teeth often finding a good grip on Nedâs flesh, but Ned had always put up with it in the hope that he would be rewarded with more than a sixpenny piece.
He never was, for Rose was always one step ahead of him, until Charles had employed him to take care of their own horses â Gospel, Charlesâs liver chestnut, Tansy, and Merlin, the roan who went in harness. Ned had bided his time, waiting for the opportunity to waylay Rose in one of the stables. He hadnât got very far. At the time, Rose had been irritated rather than cross, seeing Ned as no more than a nuisance, but he was shrewder than he looked. She had threatened to tell Charles, but he had observed Charlesâs jealous attitude and had pointed out that she might come off worse! Ever since, the rancour had simmered in Nedâs evil little mind, until he had found a way to get back at her refusal to grant him what he had sought for so long. He it was who had discovered the whereabouts of the escaped convict, and had surreptitiously gone off to the prison to claim his five pounds reward. Now Rose hated him, and if Gospel was kicking and biting him, well, nothing could please her more.
A smile found its way to her lips, and she sat on the edge of the bed, stroking her swollen stomach. The moment of contentment made her consider her unborn child for the first time since Sethâs recapture. Would the poor thing come into a happy home? Hardly. And she wasnât sure herself that she really wanted it. Someone elseâs child, yes, someone she loved. But not Charles. Someone . . . May the dear Lord forgive her, but someone more like Seth Warrington.
Once again, the anguish crippled her. Though it tore at her spirit, she would be good. Do whatever Charles wished until he released her from the room. And
then
she would see what was to be done.
Florrie arrived in Princetown on the carrierâs cart and then had to allow her thick, arthritic legs to bring her all the way to the back door of Fencott Place. She was like an unstoppable whirlwind, marching through into the hallway and demanding to speak to the master. From upstairs, Rose had heard her familiar voice raised in unprecedented anger, and her heart had soared. Florrie was back!
Had Rose seen Charlesâs face, she would have broken into a bitter, sardonic laugh. He was so astonished both at Florrieâs unexpected reappearance and at her belligerent attitude, when she had always shown him such cool deference before, that he stepped out of his study with his jaw dangling open quite stupidly. It had never crossed his mind that she looked upon Rose as her daughter, and that if the situation demanded it â which it evidently did just now â she would be willing to fight tooth and nail for her.
âTheyâve just teld me in the kitchen that youâm keeping my Rose locked up in her room!â she exploded, remembering the exact words Rose had instructed her to say, since Charles must not know of the letter and how little Patsy had secretly posted it for her. âI comes back here to help her prepare for the babby, and find youâm treating her like a criminal! You
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