Louisa Rawlings Read Online Free Page B

girl”—his mouth twisted in a mocking smile—“by stripping her bare.”
    “I do protest, Lucien!” sputtered Martin.
    “But if it’s the only way, my friend…” Lucien’s eyes were on Topaze’s bodice. “Well?”
    “A pox on you.” She watched in horror as his free hand went for the top of her jacket. “Damn you,” she cried. “Nineteen, near as I know!”
    He grinned and dropped his hand. “Thank you. Your name is Topaze, I think they said.”
    “So what if it is? You’re hurting my wrists.”
    “I’ll let you go, if you promise not to run. We mean you no harm. We have a…modest proposal for you. In the way of business.”
    She gasped her outrage. If Papa could hear them now! “I aren’t no whore, you damned gallows bird!”
    Martin shook his head. “Name of God. Listen to her, Lucien. You’re the king’s own fool. You’ll never do it in time, even if she’s agreed.”
    Lucien shrugged. “I’m willing to chance it. Can I let you go, girl?”
    She nodded her head in silence, rubbing sullenly at her wrists when he released her.
    “Where can we talk?” he asked.

Chapter Three
    Thetavern was smoky and crowded. Topaze noticed that the two men lowered their heads and made for the dimmest corner of the room. Holy Virgin , she thought. What was she getting herself into? Were they felons, afraid to be seen? But the pungent smells from roasting meat and mulled wine drove every other thought from her head. She found herself trembling, suddenly aware of her painful hunger.
    Lucien put his tricorne on the table, shifted his sword as he sat down, and snapped his fingers for the serving maid. “Wine, Martin?”
    Martin grunted his assent, rubbing his cold hands together. He took the chair opposite Lucien, scarcely mindful as Topaze sat at the narrow end of the table. “A good Beaune,” he said. Lucien nodded and murmured an order to the girl.
    A pox on them both , thought Topaze. Ignoring her like this. As though she were less than nothing. She should never have suggested this place, for all that it was warm. She could hardly bear the tantalizing smells, the sight of the food. Her mouth began to salivate. She gulped, leaned back in her chair, and closed her eyes.
    “My faith!” Martin’s voice was filled with surprise. “Are you hungry?”
    She opened her eyes and stared at him. The well-fed, smug fool. What a crack-brained question! “Hellfire and damnation, why should I be? I supped with the king at Versailles only last night.” At her words, Martin blushed furiously beneath his tan, his brown eyes filled with embarrassment and remorse. His dismay was so genuine that Topaze almost regretted her sarcasm.
    Lucien scowled. “The chit will have to learn to curb her tongue. Of course she’s hungry, Martin. Have you forgotten the inequities in this land? I’ve ordered her a plate of food.”He waved away the serving girl.
    “Wait,” said Topaze. She turned to Lucien. “Will it cost me aught? For the food?”
    “No.”
    “Even if I don’t do as you wish?”
    “No,” he repeated, his blue eyes mirroring his impatience with such trivial details as the cost of food.
    She wasn’t willing to be dismissed so easily. “Well, if it don’t cost me anything”—she smiled grandly at the barmaid—“bring me a flagon of ciderkin with the food.” What a treat that would be!
    “No,” Lucien said. “Cider or wine. But not a poor man’s drink. Not ciderkin.” He turned to Martin. “Véronique would drink honest water before she’d stoop to a flagon of apple leavings.”
    Topaze felt a surge of anger. The veiled contempt in Lucien’s voice emboldened her. “Whoever Véronique is,” she said, “she aren’t no better than me! I’ll have wine. Good Beaune for me as well.” Filled with lingering doubts about her good fortune, she smiled uneasily at the men as the barmaid moved away. “If it don’t cost me anything.”
    “Nothing but listening to my friend’s proposal,” said