Lady of Seduction by Laurel McKee

Author:Laurel McKee
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Romance, Fiction, Historical, FIC027050
ISBN: 9780446544771
Publisher: Hachette Digital, Inc.
Published: 2011-05-31T21:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-one

Caroline came awake, startled. She had no idea where she was. The room around her was dark and unfamiliar, smelling faintly of fish, stale ale, and salt. Someone was stumbling down the corridor outside, bumping into the walls as they went and singing an off-key sea chantey. Her heart raced in her chest.

She sat up and felt someone’s hard arm against her hip. Then she remembered. She was at an inn on Mallorney Island—with Grant.

She slowly lay back down and breathed in deeply. Grant still slept beside her, fully clothed. The sky outside the grimy window was dark, but turning a lighter gray at the edges. Soon it would be morning, and they would have to be on their way to—where? What was their next step, their plan?

Caroline carefully slid out of bed so as not to wake Grant, wrapped a sheet around her for a robe, and fumbled around until she found the candle stub and managed to light it. There was still bread and cheese on the tray on the room’s one table and a ewer of now warm ale, and she found to her surprise that she was quite famished. Adventure seemed to create a hearty appetite.

As she ate a chunk of the bread, she noticed the valise at the edge of the table. Grant had packed his mysterious papers in there, along with The Chronicle. She knew very well she shouldn’t open it—look what had happened to poor Pandora. And snooping had gotten her into enough trouble on this adventure. But surely he wouldn’t mind if she just peeked at the book. It had been so long since she saw it last.

Caroline slowly lifted the lid and peered inside. Packed on top were the things Mademoiselle Victorine gave her before they parted, a dress and shawl, clean stockings, a pair of kid slippers, and a hairbrush. Beneath these were the oilskin-wrapped papers. Caroline ignored those and took out the book in its box.

It wasn’t a large volume, but it was a precious one. She carefully unfolded the cloth tucked around it to reveal its worn-soft green leather cover embossed with a twisting, writhing Celtic dragon with little emerald eyes. A tiny gold clasp set with more rough-cut emeralds held it closed.

She gently opened it to a chapter in the middle. It was a tale she had not seen before, a story of the Dragon of Adaislan, beautifully illustrated with illuminated images in reds and blues and yellows so brilliant that they could have been painted yesterday.

It was a fascinating tale.

In all the lands of Kildare, there was one that surpassed all others in beauty, that which lay between Killinan and Kilmoreland. Fertile green fields, orchards laden with fruit, streams rich with purple-silver salmon, restful shady woods filled with the song of the rare pure-white sparrow lay in this glorious kingdom. The inhabitants lived long lives of peace and plenty. This rare kingdom was called Adaislan, and it was unique in all the land for it was ruled only by a queen and no king.

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