Karen Ranney by The Devil of Clan Sinclair

Author:The Devil of Clan Sinclair
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Published: 0101-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20

The hired carriage had seen rough use. The sagging leather seats needed to be reupholstered. Two of the window shades were missing, and the floor bore some stains he didn’t want to contemplate. But the driver had been available, and for a sum probably twice the amount he should have paid, was willing to cross London.

Half the country had moved to the city it seemed, and the result was a congestion of people, carriages, and horses.

When the vehicle abruptly stopped in the middle of the street, Macrath waited, thinking traffic delayed them. When they didn’t move, he opened the door and descended the steps.

“What’s wrong?” he asked the driver.

“There’s hay in the street,” the man said. “Someone be sick there. And there’s a black wreath.” With the handle of his whip, he pointed to a door across the street.

“People get ill all the time,” he said.

“Not like this. I’ll not get smallpox no matter how high the fare.”

“Smallpox?”

The man gazed at him with narrowed eyes. “You’re new to London, then? You’ve not heard of the sickness?”

He shook his head.

“Aye, rich and poor alike this year. It looks like one of the rich ones got it this time.”

He paid the man the remainder of the fare. “I’ll walk the rest of the way,” he said.

“Then God go with you, and I hope the errand isn’t worth the death of you.”

He didn’t bother telling the man he’d had cowpox as a boy, and such a thing seemed to carry with it some sort of immunity.

The next block was even more worrisome, if he judged his surroundings by the driver’s fear. Three of the town houses were decorated with black wreaths.

He stood at the base of the steps leading up to the address his solicitor had given him. This door, too, held a wreath. Dread was the father of the fear traveling from his feet to lodge in his throat. Someone had died in this house.

It couldn’t be Virginia. He refused to believe it.

He removed his hat, scraped a hand through his hair and replaced it. With the fingers of one hand, he tested the folds of his cravat, while the other smoothed down the front of his coat.

Glancing down, he inspected the toes of his shoes. They were still shiny despite the dust from the hay.

His knock was answered by a man in his shirtsleeves. “What do you want?”

“Is this the home of the Countess of Barrett?” he asked, wondering if his solicitor had gotten the information wrong.

“Why would you be wanting to know?”

Macrath didn’t like making instant judgments about people, but he took an immediate dislike to the man who stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance.

“I’d like to see her,” he said, withdrawing his card.

The other man read the card, frowning. “A Scot,” he said, his tone leaving no doubt of his contempt.

Macrath bit back his annoyance. He didn’t care what the idiot thought of him. He needed to see Virginia.

“Tell her Macrath Sinclair is here to see her.”

“She’s ill.

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.