The Bride Price by Anne Mallory

Author:Anne Mallory
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Historical
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2008-02-22T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

A thief helping a poor flower girl on the street. A rogue not taking advantage of an innocent. Sometimes people surprise you, and sometimes they shock you square into a fog. It makes one wonder if it is all some wonderfully duplicitous plan.

Caroline tapped her finger against her chin, squinting against the bright sun. “Noah, let’s go the other direction.” The boy nodded and drew a box around another area of the grid, then looked up at her, waiting.

“Perfect. That is exactly the way to stage it, don’t you think?”

His cheeks lit as only a sixteen-year-old boy’s could. “Yes, Mrs. Martin.”

“I think we need to ask Mrs. Francis where she wants the confections placed. Do you think you might inquire this afternoon?”

“Of course, Mrs. Martin.” He jumped to his feet as she rolled the papers and set them aside on the bench. “I will also ask Mr. Reede and Mr. Wallace about the stands.”

“Excellent. The committee members and I need to meet tomorrow. You make my life so much easier, Noah.”

The blush intensified. “I don’t do much, Mrs. Martin.”

“Nonsense. Now give these to your mother and don’t cause too much trouble for the village girls.” She handed him a basket of sticky buns she’d placed near the twining tomato plants.

If his cheeks grew any redder, she wasn’t sure what color palette they would enter. “I will. I won’t. I mean, yes, Mrs. Martin.”

Noah took off down the path, and she didn’t have to stifle her smile. She remembered the easy affections of that age. The innocence. That Noah tripped over himself for her was beyond flattering. And would last, oh, a few more weeks, or months, before he was on to his next affection. Such was the way of sixteen-year-old boys.

Noah was a good lad. He would grow into a strong and true man. Not like Patrick, who had been a weak, unfaithful boy. She smoothed the creases on her forehead that had gathered there and turned.

As if called by the demon of all that was wicked and tempting, Sebastien Deville lounged against her door.

“Making conquests of the village boys, Caroline?”

She stayed where she was. Utter insanity to try and enter her cottage, as he would assuredly follow. After last night…no, not a good idea. “Nonsense. Noah will be back mooning after the village girls in no time.”

“You think it so easy to get you out of the blood?”

“If I did, I would not share such with you.” She crossed her arms.

He laughed lightly. “I see you made it safely home.”

“You know I did, you wretch.”

He put a hand to his heart. “You didn’t allow me to enter—how was I to know whether you were spirited away by an evil villain lying in wait inside?”

“As if you didn’t stare at the windows in a fawning fashion before leaving the grove.”

A smile curved his lips. “So what did young Noah need from you?”

“He is helping with the arrangements for the midsummer celebration.”

“I’ll bet you invite Noah into your cottage.”

“Actually we usually meet out here in the open.

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