True Love Read Online Free Page A

unlatched and it opened at the
light touch of her fingertips. Inside, the room was in shambles,
its original neatness totally destroyed by those two careless
guests. The bedcovers were dragged onto the floor and two wooden
clothes chests sat open with garments strewn about. A muddy boot
and a single stocking were tossed onto the bed, a stool was
upended, and on the small table near the bed a candlestick lay on
its side, the candle extinguished in a pool of melted wax. The
place stank of wine and of other, less pleasant odors.
    Catherine did not want to set foot inside the
room. She was terrified of being caught there, yet her inquisitive
nature drove her to search the place. She pulled the door wide,
deciding if anyone came by and saw her, she would use the condition
of the room as an excuse to claim she had found the door open and
had come in to straighten the chamber for the comfort of the guests
using it.
    In fact, it was all she could do to touch any
of the men's belongings. She moved what she could with the toe of
one shoe, and used a single finger to lift a shirt and a cloak so
she could see if there was anything under the clothing. Her hasty
search disclosed nothing to answer any of her many questions.
Still, she did not think she had missed anything important. All the
belongings Phelan and Eustace had brought to Wortham were spread
out for her to see.
    “What I am looking for is probably safely
stored in Phelan's mind,” she told herself, “or else it's on
parchment and he keeps it on his person. I doubt he'd entrust
anything of value to Eustace. How I wish I knew exactly what it is
I am seeking!”
    Convinced there was nothing for her to find
in that chamber, she left it and moved on to Braedon's room, which
was on the next level up from Phelan’s.
    She lifted the latch and entered, leaving the
door open a crack so she could hear anyone coming up the steps.
Once inside she took a deep breath, inhaling the clean fragrance of
the soap she provided for all of the guests, mixed with another
scent that reminded her of a forest filled with fir trees and
freshly cut wood.
    Earlier in the day when she had bumped into
Braedon in the great hall she was close enough to him to catch a
whiff of his scent. Smelling it again recalled the strength of his
hands on her shoulders and the way he had stared at her mouth. She
could almost hear the sound of his low-pitched voice.
    Shaking herself free of seductive memory she
made herself concentrate on the reason why she was in Braedon's
room. She looked around, taking careful note of all she saw.
    The shutter at the single window was open and
a shaft of golden, late-day sunlight illuminated a large covered
basket with a folded pile of clothing on the lid. A pair of boots
sat on the floor next to the basket, and a rolled-up bundle that
was probably the squire's bedroll rested beside the boots.
    In the entire room not a single item was out
of order, though a faint indentation on a bed pillow hinted that
someone had recently rested there. But the coverlet was
unwrinkled.
    “Interesting,” Catherine murmured. “Braedon
the Wicked is clearly an orderly man, with a single squire who is
apparently as neat as his master.”
    The sole object she could see that could
possibly hold any sort of secret was the basket. Going to her
knees, she lifted the pile of clothing off the basket and set it on
the floor. Only then did she notice how the basket lid was secured
with a tightly knotted leather thong. Catherine stared at the thong
while the realization dawned on her that it was going to require
valuable time to unfasten the complicated knot. Having done so, she
was then unlikely to be able to retie the knot in the same way.
Braedon would know someone had been prying among his
belongings.
    While she knelt there, trying to decide what
to do next, she heard a footstep on the stairs. A glance at the
door told her she would surely be seen by whoever was coming. She
leapt to her feet and whisked behind