Her Master & Commander (Reeves 1) by Karen Hawkins

Author:Karen Hawkins
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-04-07T13:23:45+00:00

Chapter 13

To remove stains from furniture, mix a powder from black rose oil, alkaline soap, and bullock’s gall. Be sure to use only in a room with an open window. It is quite difficult to scrub whilst unconscious.

A Compleat Guide for

Being a Most Proper Butler

by Richard Robert Reeves

Tristan strode down the path, still mulling over Reeves and his secrets. The morning sun was just breaking over the sea, a brisk wind lifting over the cliff. The last week, he’d gotten up earlier than necessary in order to walk the cliff.. It cleared his head and gave him a certain peace of mind. Today, it gave him no peace at all. All he could do was think about Christian.

Waiting was hell on earth. Tristan would give Reeves one week to produce his brother. One week and no more.

He wondered what Christian would think of Prudence. The thought brought to mind the tempting armful that arrived every morning arrayed in a blue cloak, her hair tightly pinned, her brown eyes warm with laughter. Prudence. Just the sound of her name in his thoughts made life seem more bearable.

Today the path was strewn with glassy puddles, the stones covered with a slick moss. He tramped his foot onto the hard path, fire shooting up his leg. He winced, grinding his teeth against the pain. He would not let this wound beat him. Nothing would beat him. If Prudence had taught him anything, it was that even the irksome in life could be dealt with if approached with patience and diligence.

It was a fact he’d known, but had somehow in the weeks and months of his convalescence, allowed to slip away.

He rounded the corner, and the cottage came into view, sturdy and strong against the thrashing winds.

Tristan forced himself to walk the remaining steps down the path to the garden gate at an even brisker pace, keeping the bruising pace with each step, his breath harsh in his own ears.

Perhaps if he walked more forcibly, made the muscles in his leg stretch and reach… perhaps he would get better. He clenched his teeth and forced himself onward. Only the steady crunch of the cane and the thud of his boots mattered. Only that.

He would reach the gate.

He would not falter, no matter the cost.

No matter the pain.

Just the gate…

He made it. Tristan grabbed the top board and leaned on it, lifting his burning leg and bowing his head.

Pain coursed through him, but he welcomed it. It didn’t pay to fight the pain. Instead, he let it ripple through his leg, following the course of the lead ball that had almost killed him.

It had always been that way for him—first he fought and then he accepted. Fate had never sat on his shoulder but had mocked him from afar, showing him what he could have, but did not. It did that with his father, with the injury that ground him from the sea, and now it was happening with Prudence.

He wanted her. Wanted her in his life even after this farce with the trustees was over.

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