Capturing Sir Dunnicliffe (The Star Elite Series) Read Online Free Page A

study the features staring back at her.
    Although she wasn’t beautiful by any stretch of the imagination, she was passably pretty. Her red hair was more of a dark brown, with red flecks running through it that made it an intriguing colour of reddish brown. If it wasn’t so thick and wildly curly, it could be brushed and swept into an elegant knot like most ladies wore and would look alluring. But Harriett couldn’t manage the wilful strands by herself, and when she had tried to tame it into some semblance of order, had found the results looking more like a beehive than anything attractive. More often than not, she swept it back into a simple knot at the base of her neck that emphasised her long, slender neck and the delicate point of her gently rounded chin. The high arch of her cheekbones were faintly smattered with freckles that matched the dark green of her eyes. When combined with her red hair, they helped to convince everyone that she was part Celtic, and thus had to be a witch who dealt in the black arts, rather than a white witch interested in nothing more than the healing powers of herbs and plants.
    Harriett had no doubt that had her potions not worked so well, the villagers wouldn’t venture anywhere near her; but she was cheaper than the doctor, who most people couldn’t afford, and she didn’t object when people called for her help in the middle of the night.
    She didn’t mind people believing she dabbled in the dark arts, and knew Harrold p layed a large part in her charade. He was a huge beast, with yellow eyes that glared balefully at everyone and anyone. She had heard the rumours that Harrold was the result of a spell gone wrong and was a child who had to remain as a feline as punishment for crossing her mother. Harrold’s hatred of strangers was legendary within the villagers, who had all learned not to approach the house until Harriett locked him away.
    A particularly strong gust of wind rattled the window pane to her side. The thin draught of cool air that swept over her skin made her shudder and gave her a gentle nudge. With a sigh she stood, closed the shutters and curtains and, picking up the single candle from the small table by the door, shuffled off to feed a still grumbling Harrold before heading off to bed. Once in her bedroom, she changed into her nightgown, added more logs to the fire, and climbed between the cold sheets.
    As she lay in the darkness, Harriett felt the sense of unease settle over her once more, stronger than ever. When she usually had this strange sense of foreboding, she inevitably received bad news. The last time she had felt something so strongly, her mother had died. But there was nobody left to grieve for. Her father, such as he was, had limited contact with her, and she didn’t know him well enough to consider him close. She knew Jemima and Eliza were in the safest place possible, in the loving arms of their very protective husbands. Even Harrold, although still grumpy, was fighting fit.
    Harriett simply couldn’t understand what was wrong. These feelings had plagued her since she was a child, arriving suddenly, without warning, and sometimes remaining with her for days. The sense of foreboding dragged at her senses, until it disappeared just as suddenly, immediately before the bad news arrived.
    Tugging the blankets up to her ears, she closed her eyes , tried to block out the haunting rattle of the window panes as the wind sought to gain entrance, and attempted not to feel so alone in the world.
     
     

CHAPTER TWO
     
     
    It had started to rain a few hours ago, just as Hugo arrived in the harbour of Port Isaac. He hadn’t wanted to head outside on such a stormy night, and would have been tucked up in bed if Pie Masters’ cover hadn’t been compromised. As it was, Hugo had been the only man nearby who was available to go to the small village of Port Isaac, and witness the arrival of one of France’s most notorious spy masters.
    He wasn’t planning on