An Unexpected Sin Read Online Free Page B

short.
    “New hire. Name’s Josiah,” the goodman said gruffly. “Can you set him up in a room?”
    “Of course,” she said after a slight hitch in time. Was she wary? Perhaps it should be expected; what he did not know was whether the scrutiny had taken on a personal nature.
    He was a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. And one rocking chair bothered him more than the others.
    From the corner, an old woman stared with bold green eyes. Anne’s eyes. The elder woman’s years numbered many, her wrinkles marking her face like the lines of a tree. A shawl covered her lap so he could not make out her frame, but she appeared slight. And her appraisal of him was unapologetic. Demanding.
    Her lips moved. Or had they?
    Josiah looked around but Anne’s parents had left. He was alone. He took a step closer, both captivated and pinned by the woman’s uncanny attention. Then, realizing he could not simply stare, he said, “Good morrow.”
    Again, her lips moved, and with that motion came the faintest whisper of sound. But she remained stoic in nature—not at all like a person who attempted conversation. Had he imagined it?
    Uneasy, Josiah looked over his shoulder. Though he could see little past the doorway leading to the back half of the inn, for the time he and the elder woman remained alone.
    And if she had addressed him, she appeared in no hurry to repeat her words.
    “Pardon me?” he asked. “Are we previously acquainted?” He edged closer, startled by the hue of her eyes. They were Anne’s. The old woman’s were not as bright, but they were no less piercing. He had been to Cambridge and back, and though the vision of Anne’s eyes had stayed with him, never had he seen such a hue outside of his mind.
    Today, he did.
    The woman made no indication of having heard him. He considered whether or not he should address her again when footsteps sounded in the parlor. He turned to see Goodwife Scudder, who had stopped and stared at them in surprise.
    “She does not speak,” the goodwife said, nodding toward the old woman. “And has long taken leave of her manners. Forgive her undue attention. This way, please.”
    The old woman did not react to the insult, though verily it left Josiah unnerved. Anne’s mother, even as she sought forgiveness with her words, seemed to be warning him away from the elder. Perhaps the old woman was ill, though she might easily have said as much. It was more likely the goodwife preferred the hired help to not disturb her guests…or in the case of the elder, her family, for she had to be a relation of Anne’s.
    Josiah followed Anne’s mother to a back room on the lower level of the large, two-story inn—likely a room intended for servants. Inside was the first bed he had seen in days. The room smelled of clean, dry foliage, suggesting the mattress had recently been freshened.
    “Thank you,” he said.
    “There is no need for gratitude. You will earn it or you will move on.” She did not wait for an answer before leaving him, but it was just as well, for he had none.
    Gone was the utter warmth she had exuded when her son had been alive.
    Josiah turned around. The tidy room was basic—small, but his belongings were few. He had only a pack and he needed only a place to set it down. He would have been happy for permission to sleep on the porch for the chance to be near Anne. Best of all, the room was steps from where Anne would sleep. He sank onto the bed.
    He had found her and against all odds, she seemed to have forgiven him. And he had been given a second chance to prove himself to her parents. Josiah had finally escaped his past.
    The truth could be anything he wanted it to be.
    Everything in his entire world hung on the wisdom of that choice.

Chapter Four
    After enduring a sleepless night at Prudence’s—Anne’s every thought consumed with Josiah—she refused a proffered wagon ride from John Howe, the merchant friend of her father’s who frequently granted her