The Smithfield Bargain Read Online Free

crystal blue eyes would give a man like me as much as a second look. Yet here we are, my sweet Romayne and me.”
    â€œAre we staying in Coldstream tonight? Is there an inn there?”
    He laughed. “You need not worry, my sweet. I shall be taking care of you from this night forward.”
    â€œI would like to know.”
    â€œWhy?”
    Romayne was disconcerted by his question. Bradley usually enjoyed planning out their times together to the most trivial detail, and she had not suspected that he would balk at giving her an answer to a reasonable request. Then she felt a pang of guilt. He must be as exhausted as she was.
    â€œI am tired and cold and cramped from the long ride,” she said, noting that he frowned at the truth. Hearing him mutter something as he peered past the lowered curtain at the window, she asked, “Was I mistaken? I thought I heard the man in the village tell Scribner we should reach Coldstream before nightfall. That was hours ago.”
    â€œThe storm has slowed us.” He pulled on the check-string, and the vehicle came to a stop. When it bounced as the coachman leapt from the box, Bradley raised the curtain and leaned his elbow out. The wind-driven snow lashed them as he called, “Scribner, how much farther to Coldstream?”
    The man hunched within his frozen cloak while he held up a lantern from the box. He stamped his feet as he answered, “I fear the numb-wit we asked for directions misdirected us badly, Mr. Montcrief. This road seems to be leading nowhere. We might be wiser to turn about and return to the main road north.”
    â€œDo so,” Bradley ordered. He cursed, then apologized hastily to Romayne. “Forgive my frustration, my sweet. When I am so close to having you for my own, it enrages me to be denied even a moment longer.”
    â€œWe have waited so long for this day,” she said soothingly. “Think how much sweeter it shall be to speak our vows when the time finally comes.”
    He grinned, his expression macabre in the long shadows from the dim lantern as Scribner walked back toward the horses. “You make it so simple to love you, Romayne. Tell me that you love me, my dear.”
    She started to answer, raising her hands to his shoulders. Her words were swallowed by the coachman calling a warning.
    Bradley pushed her away as he looked out the carriage window. Snapping an order, he swore again. Romayne started to ask what was wrong, then she heard hoofbeats approaching at a rapid pace on the frozen road. The taut expression on her betrothed’s face warned her he too suspected the sound heralded trouble.
    â€œGet us out of here!” Bradley bellowed to his coachman.
    Romayne said, “Perhaps if you help Scribner—”
    â€œBe silent!”
    Romayne gasped at the venom in his voice. Never had he spoken like this to her. She put her hand on his arm, but he shrugged it off as he leaned out the window to call to his coachman.
    Shouts careened through the storm. The carriage jerked, tossing Romayne back against the seat as Scribner tried to turn the vehicle. The road was so narrow that he had to lead the horses in a crazy dance, moving them backward and forward at sharp angles as he tried to get the bulky carriage facing in the opposite direction.
    â€œHurry, man! Get us out of here!” shouted Bradley as the coachman clambered back into the box. Folding his arms over his chest, he grumbled, “I should have turned him off years ago. The man is a lame-hand.”
    â€œHe is doing his best, Bradley,” Romayne said, putting her hand over his.
    She gasped when he brushed it away and retorted, “I hope you think so when those high pads catch up with us.”
    Romayne pressed her hands to her mouth. Highwaymen! She had thought they would be free of that threat when the rain outside the carriage had changed into a late-winter snowstorm. Fear clamped its icy claws around her throat, and she clutched