Naughty in Nottinghamshire 02 - The Rogue Returns by Leigh LaValle

Author:Leigh LaValle [LaValle, Leigh]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Heart Bay Publishing
Published: 2014-01-10T08:00:00+00:00

ROANE TINKERED AROUND THEIR SMALL CAMPSITE, thrust a hot cup of tea in her hands then disappeared to see to the horses.

Helen ate a soggy dinner of bread and ham, then snuggled down in her bedroll. The low light of the fire outlined Roane’s shirt and breeches hanging from a tree limb to dry. Her ruined dress and chemise were also there, and it gave her an odd thrill to see their things mingled together.

She flopped around on her uncomfortable pallet and tried to sleep. But boredom overcame her, and she did something she’d wanted to do for days. She snooped into Roane’s bag and pulled out his journal.

Torn between guilt and curiosity, she flipped open the pages and sat back on her bedroll.

Drawings filled the pages. Beautiful, skilled drawings of horses and arid hillside, of ragged looking men and strange plants. One was of a beach, something tropical and far away. Another was of a desert, flat and filled with scrub brush. He’d used some kind of red die to color the sand.

Had he drawn these? Where?

And how had he come by such skill? The drawings were more than a quick sketch of a place. They captured the feel of it, the smell of the air and the touch of the sun.

She turned page after page and the subject changed. Instead or horses and landscapes, he drew men. Ragged, rough looking men. Men crowded together in the hull of a boat. Men in chains wielding picks and chipping at huge rocks. Men in odd block-colored uniforms tied behind wagons.

A chill crawled up her spine, and she quickly flipped to the back pages. There were a number of drawings of her. Her face. Her seated atop Starlight looking ridiculous in her bonnet and skirts hiked up to her knees. The curve of her neck and shoulder. Her playing with Mittens.

She turned back to the beginning pages.

Roane had been somewhere strange, somewhere violent. He’d been whipped, perhaps worse. Her heart lurched into her throat, and she closed the journal with shaking hands. She didn’t know if she should feel compassion for him—or fear. What had taken him to these strange lands? Had he done something horribly evil?

She heard Roane’s voice through the trees and froze, then quickly stuffed his journal beneath her blankets. She rolled over and pretended to be asleep.

“The world is a tough place for a kitten without his mama.”

Helen bit her lip. He was talking to Mittens.

“Despite the basket, you are lucky Lady Helen took a liking to you. Not every orphan is so fortunate.”

Helen listened to the thump of his footsteps as he drew closer to her makeshift bed. She felt Mittens scamper across the covers, then heard the clatter of Roane’s boots hitting the earth.

“Don’t yell at me again, princess, but we’ll have to put our pallets side by side and share the blankets tonight. I can’t have you catching a chill.”

She couldn’t possibly pretend to sleep through that pronouncement. Helen opened her eyes and sat up.

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