honors. When the feast was presented, Claudia condescended to doff her hat but carefully patted her hair in place before delicately sampling the fare.
The door opened, and Erienne blanched as her father strolled in. She had her back to him and didn't dare glance around as he swaggered to the bar. He slapped down coin for ale, then having received a tankard, leaned against the planks to glance about the room as he sipped. He spewed out the contents of his mouth in a rush when his eyes came upon Erienne and Christopher sitting at the same table. With stumbling gait, he half ran across the room, drawing all eyes to him. Erienne heard him coming and her heart leapt for fear. Avery was past the point of caution and failed to see anything beyond the fact that his daughter was willingly accepting the attentions of his fiercest foe. He rudely clasped her arm and hauled her out of the chair, while Claudia smirked behind a glass of wine.
"Ye evil little wench! Coin' behind my back again wit' this Yankee bastard!" Avery loudly berated. "I swear to ye 'twill be the last time ye do!"
The mayor brought his fist around with enough force to break his daughter's jaw, and Erienne tried to brace herself, certain the blow would fall with brutal force, but once again her faithful protector was there close at hand. With a flare of rage, Christopher shot out of his chair and caught Avery's wrist in a painfully tight grip, jerking him away from his daughter.
"Take yer filthy hands off me!" the portly man bellowed, attempting to gain his freedom, but the strong, broad hand held him fast.
Christopher's tone was deadly calm. "I beg you to consider your actions, Mayor. Your daughter came here with the sheriff and Miss Talbot. Would you insult them by such a display?"
As if coming from a fog, Avery became aware of the other two who also sat at the table. Red-faced, he hurriedly stuttered an apology, and Christopher released his hold, curbing the urge to give a short, backward thrust as he did so. He would have enjoyed seeing the man sprawl on his backside.
Avery caught hold of his daughter's arm again and hastened her toward the door. "Ye go on home now and cook me some vittles. I'll be home after I've had me one or two."
The door slammed behind her. Turning, Avery hitched up his breeches, glared about at those who still stared, and returned to the bar.
With tears of humiliation stinging her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, Erienne ran home. She wished now that she would not have allowed herself to be goaded by Claudia's glowering threat. The disgrace she had suffered in the inn would make it extremely difficult to hold her head up in front of the haughty woman.
Then there was the other matter. Claudia was almost vicious in her ambition to be the unrivaled and heralded beauty of the North country, and to gain that end she used her tongue to slander, abuse, or destroy without the least regard for truth. Like a whip, her tongue had the ability to make one writhe in agony. Erienne had no doubt the woman would well flay her reputation in her absence, and Claudia would paint a wildly distorted vision for the Yankee's eyes.
"What do I care?" Erienne mumbled miserably. "Claudia and Mr. Seton were most certainly made for each other."
Chapter Four
IN the eastern sky, shafts of vibrant color radiated from the dawning sun and thrust through the mottled clouds, bathing the white-faced cottages of Mawbry with a rosy hue. Morning's blushing light penetrated the crystal panes of Erienne's chamber windows, rousing her from a restless sleep. She groaned and snuggled her head beneath the pillow, deriving no pleasure from the prospect that they must seek out another suitor in Wirkinton. She knew her father could not be swayed from his goal, especially since he had found her dining with the Yankee at the inn, and it was useless to delay.
Morosely she dragged herself from the bed and wandered down to the kitchen. Shivering in a threadbare
The door opened, and Erienne blanched as her father strolled in. She had her back to him and didn't dare glance around as he swaggered to the bar. He slapped down coin for ale, then having received a tankard, leaned against the planks to glance about the room as he sipped. He spewed out the contents of his mouth in a rush when his eyes came upon Erienne and Christopher sitting at the same table. With stumbling gait, he half ran across the room, drawing all eyes to him. Erienne heard him coming and her heart leapt for fear. Avery was past the point of caution and failed to see anything beyond the fact that his daughter was willingly accepting the attentions of his fiercest foe. He rudely clasped her arm and hauled her out of the chair, while Claudia smirked behind a glass of wine.
"Ye evil little wench! Coin' behind my back again wit' this Yankee bastard!" Avery loudly berated. "I swear to ye 'twill be the last time ye do!"
The mayor brought his fist around with enough force to break his daughter's jaw, and Erienne tried to brace herself, certain the blow would fall with brutal force, but once again her faithful protector was there close at hand. With a flare of rage, Christopher shot out of his chair and caught Avery's wrist in a painfully tight grip, jerking him away from his daughter.
"Take yer filthy hands off me!" the portly man bellowed, attempting to gain his freedom, but the strong, broad hand held him fast.
Christopher's tone was deadly calm. "I beg you to consider your actions, Mayor. Your daughter came here with the sheriff and Miss Talbot. Would you insult them by such a display?"
As if coming from a fog, Avery became aware of the other two who also sat at the table. Red-faced, he hurriedly stuttered an apology, and Christopher released his hold, curbing the urge to give a short, backward thrust as he did so. He would have enjoyed seeing the man sprawl on his backside.
Avery caught hold of his daughter's arm again and hastened her toward the door. "Ye go on home now and cook me some vittles. I'll be home after I've had me one or two."
The door slammed behind her. Turning, Avery hitched up his breeches, glared about at those who still stared, and returned to the bar.
With tears of humiliation stinging her eyes and streaming down her cheeks, Erienne ran home. She wished now that she would not have allowed herself to be goaded by Claudia's glowering threat. The disgrace she had suffered in the inn would make it extremely difficult to hold her head up in front of the haughty woman.
Then there was the other matter. Claudia was almost vicious in her ambition to be the unrivaled and heralded beauty of the North country, and to gain that end she used her tongue to slander, abuse, or destroy without the least regard for truth. Like a whip, her tongue had the ability to make one writhe in agony. Erienne had no doubt the woman would well flay her reputation in her absence, and Claudia would paint a wildly distorted vision for the Yankee's eyes.
"What do I care?" Erienne mumbled miserably. "Claudia and Mr. Seton were most certainly made for each other."
Chapter Four
IN the eastern sky, shafts of vibrant color radiated from the dawning sun and thrust through the mottled clouds, bathing the white-faced cottages of Mawbry with a rosy hue. Morning's blushing light penetrated the crystal panes of Erienne's chamber windows, rousing her from a restless sleep. She groaned and snuggled her head beneath the pillow, deriving no pleasure from the prospect that they must seek out another suitor in Wirkinton. She knew her father could not be swayed from his goal, especially since he had found her dining with the Yankee at the inn, and it was useless to delay.
Morosely she dragged herself from the bed and wandered down to the kitchen. Shivering in a threadbare
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