Christmas Spirits by Charles Jane

Author:Charles, Jane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Night Shift Publishing
Published: 2016-07-01T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Had the same happened to him, Benjamin would be horrified at his trousers splitting down the back. Yet, he found it quite humorous when it happened to Mary. Or, perhaps it was the stunned expression on her lovely face that produced the laughter he tried desperately to suppress.

All thoughts left him when she emerged from behind the bushes. He had hoped she’d change into a dress, but feared it would be another set of men’s clothing. What he had not expected was for her to be wearing widow’s weeds. She was clad from her chin to her booted feet in black. Even her gloves were black, as were the hat and veil that she carried along with a small case.

Mary grinned at him. “As we are accompanying a coffin, I thought this appropriate.”

Benjamin barked out laughter, he couldn’t help it. Mary Grant was the most unusual woman he had ever met. He couldn’t wait to share his traveling coach with her and for the first time he hoped the roads were not in their favor so that he could spend as much time with her as possible. He no longer cared if Danby got his whisky in time.

Gaylord rushed past him to retrieve her portmanteau and loaded it onto the coach. Ben opened the door when she reached him. “After you.”

Mary settled onto the seat and he took the one across from her for the single purpose that he’d be able to look at her.

“Ah. This is nice.” She sighed, relaxing against the squabs. She set her case on the seat beside her and opened it before she started pulling pins from her hair and dropping them inside. Bit by bit, black curls tumbled down, and he was in awe.

Her blue eyes blinked up at him. “Have ye never seen a woman brush her hair before?”

His mouth had grown dry and Ben had to clear his throat. “Um, no.” Not even his sisters. They prepared for the day in the privacy of their chambers. He hadn’t even seen them in night clothing since they were children.

Mary’s face colored. “I hope ye doona mind, but I need to brush the tangles out.”

He quickly shook his head. “Of course not.” Her head was a halo of black curls, framing her delicate features, and slowly, with each stroke of the brush she tamed them. It was sad, actually. He rather liked the dishevelment of her hair. It fit the Mary he’d come to know. Not that she was wild, but self-sufficient. And while she might be delicate, she could take care of herself. At least for the most part, from what he’d observed, except when it came to a broken wagon wheel.

“You have beautiful hair,” he said to cover the silence in the carriage.

Her smile softened. “Thank ye.”

She had pulled it over one shoulder and was brushing the ends, having worked her way from the crown of her head. Was that how all women brushed their hair?

When she finished, Mary set the

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.