Nightingale Read Online Free Page B

story.”
    With that, he turned abruptly, as if leading a charge. Jessica stood glowering at the back of this man who displayed such a vexing lack of regard or appreciation for her considerable effort and inconvenience on his behalf.
    After moments of flailing and being slapped this way and that by wayward branches, he finally set a steadying hand on the trunk of a sapling and assumed a mostly upright position.
    Again taking his measure, Jessica straightened to her full height. He definitely was of a size to fit the huge horse waiting beyond the briars. How in heaven’s name could she manage him through the underbrush and see him onto his immense mount? As she delayed, the man cocked his head as if listening to her thoughts.
    Profoundly aware he could not see her, she had a fleeting, unconscionable thought. She could abandon him. Could take his precious horse, for that matter. He could scarcely prevent it.
    Where had such an outrageous idea come from? It was more like John Lout than Jessica Blair. It was this man’s fault. He annoyed her almost beyond patience. Of course, she could never live with herself if she left him helpless, friendless. Friendless was probably this man’s usual condition, and through no fault of hers. Surely he displayed a more civil attitude toward his peers than he showed those less fortunate who were foolish enough to render aid.
    As to his horse, the animal probably would refuse to go in any direction without him.
    All right. She would see the ingrate to his horse and mounted. Then the four-legged one, which still had its eyesight and what appeared to be an unerring sense of direction, could deliver this duke home.
    She regretted having told the man her name or having mentioned Welter. It would be better if she had simply reunited this insufferable soul with his steed then turned her feet toward home.

Chapter Two
    Jessica shuffled as she approached the man with new determination, intentionally making noise so as not to startle him. Addressing him in the kindly tones one might use with a recalcitrant child, she fitted his arm around her shoulder.
    “I am strong, Your Grace. If you can walk a little, I can be both crutch and guide to the road.”
    “Damn this black, evil night,” he said.
    She had little trouble seeing, her eyes having adjusted to nature’s night-lights. His obviously hadn’t … or couldn’t.
    Ponderously, they advanced, taking wide berths around gnarled, vine-wrapped trees and bushes. The duke slid his feet over the rough ground, each step accompanied by groans or the pop of his jaw as he clenched his teeth. From time to time, he leaned more heavily on her. If not for those muted sounds and occasional weight, she would not have known he was in pain.
    In the half-light of a small clearing, she glanced up as his jaw muscles flexed and he squeezed his unbandaged eye closed. He no longer made any effort to see. Perhaps he had finally accepted what had been apparent to her from the beginning.
    He looked determined, in spite of his obvious discomfort, and she regretted having to take him the long way around to avoid the brambles through which she had tunneled to reach him.
    His breathing became labored. He was tiring. Just as she decided they must stop and rest, Sweetness nickered soft encouragement. The man gave a low, rumbling response and his arm around her shoulder tightened, rekindling her own resolve.
    They circled a thorned hedge and broke onto the open road, mere steps from the horse.
    Maintaining a firm hold on Jessica, the duke reached out to Sweetness who nickered. The duke fanned the air with one hand until his fingers found the horse’s velvet nose. Sweetness responded with a series of throaty whickers that leached tension from the man’s body.
    Eager to get beyond reunions and on with this rescue while both man and horse were cooperative, Jessica waited. Tall for a woman, slender, but strong, Jessica knew she would be no match for the pair if they rebelled.
    After