Samantha James Read Online Free Page B

smile.
    His own deepened. “I must admit, Cassie does suit you.” He leaned back in his chair, surveying her curiously. “Has Charleston always been your home, Cassie?”
    Cassie’s smile withered. Home? She had no home, for she scarcely considered the cramped, tiny room in the attic where she slept with Nell her home. In truth, it was the one great wish that preyed longingly on her mind. She and Bess had oft dreamed of saving their coin that they might buy a cottage of their own; there they would sew for fine ladies since they were both well skilled with a needle. It needn’t matter if it were but a single room; what mattered was that they need not answer to anyone but themselves.
    Bess, she thought with a pang. Dear, sweet Bess. Though not so very much older than herself, Bess had been far more mother to her than her own. She had taken her in, protected her, and watched out for her when no one else had cared.
    A bitter darkness stole into her heart. No, she thought again. She had no home of her own, nor was it likely she ever would.
    Her lashes dropped. She set her attention to removing the stopper from the bottle of brandy. “Aye,” she said quietly. “I’ve lived in Charleston all my life.” She smiled slightly. “Indeed, I’ve never been outside of the city.”
    He seemed to sense something was wrong. An awkward silence prevailed as she struggled with the bottle-stopper; uppermost in her mind was awareness that the earl still watched and had yet to say a word. Nervousness made her fingers clumsy. She plucked almost frantically at the stopper.
    It was then that the earl finally spoke, a hint of barely restrained impatience in his voice. “Allow me.” Cassie’s eyes flew to his. Her lips parted. What she intended to say or do, she would neverknow. Strong fingers had already curled around the neck of the bottle. For the space of a heartbeat, the back of his knuckles lay cradled against the curve of her breast. It was all Cassie could do not to cry out, not from shock, but from the reaction his touch evoked. Like fire it was, clear through to the core of her body.
    The stopper popped free. To Cassie, the loud pop ! was like the blast of a gun.
    She flushed as he proceeded to fill the two goblets. “Thank you, sir.” The urge to flee was upon her again, but she’d caught a glimpse of Black Jack across the floor. He was looking her way, his expression as frigid as a sea wind in winter. Badly shaken and praying it did not show, she bobbed a curtsy, eyes downcast. “Will you be needing anything else, sirs?”
    She had no desire to look at the earl, yet he drew her gaze with a force too powerful to resist. His eyes were cool and assessing. They wandered at will, over her neckline before settling, she was certain, with calculated deliberation on the swell of her flesh visible above the frayed lace trim of her bodice.
    “Not at the present,” he drawled at last.
    Both angry and anxious at his brazenly thorough study, she gave a nod. “I’ll just clear the table for you, then.” Eager to be quit of the pair, no matter how pleasant his companion might be, she reached across the table for the tankards they’d set aside. But in her haste to replace them on her tray, she withdrew her elbow just a little too quickly.
    The bottle of brandy tipped over with a crash. The dark red liquid inside pursued a straight andunerring path across the table and over the side. Both men leaped to their feet. By some miracle both emerged unscathed.
    “By God, wench, I do believe you’ve no experience as a barmaid.” The earl glared at her, his voice stripped free of any indulgence.
    Cassie had already begun swiping at the sodden mess. She paused long enough to return his glare in full measure. “’Tis hardly my first night—indeed I’ve been here nearly as long as Nell!”
    “I wonder, then,” came his grim response, “that Black Jack has any wine left in his cellars.”
    It was too much! Who was he to call her inept? She