A Rogue in Sheep’s Clothing Read Online Free PDF Page A

impatient. But the lass followed Ellie’s every move. Time ticked on.
    Finally, Ellie dismounted on the far side of the gelding and peeked over his withers. The girl’s broom now swept so slowly the dust stopped rising. She fluttered her lashes at Ellie and blushed. A handkerchief fluttered to the ground. “Oh dear me,” she said, bashfully tucking her chin to her chest.
    By God, she’s flirting with me!
Ellie’s face burned. Keeping the gelding between them, Ellie stuffed stray hairs under the hat, then, head down, raced into the jewelers.
    “I’ve come for my mistress to sell a bit of her fancy wares,” she told a skeletal man.
    He elevated a monocle to the socket of one eye “Well then, let’s see them, lad.”
    Ellie dug in her pocket and produced the necklace. The shopkeeper let out a long, slow whistle. “Lord have mercy, son, that
is
a piece of finery. Do you know what your mistress is asking for them?”
    “She wants a solid ten thousand pounds.”
    “My, my, my. Well, those pearls are certainly worth that. When would she require payment?”
    “She’ll be needing it right away.”
    “We can accommodate that. The end of next week I’ll bring it to her myself.”
    “Oh no, governor, that won’t do. She needs the cash today.”
    The shopkeeper looked startled. “No one has ten-thousand pounds at a moment’s notice,” he said. “I doubt even the bank has that much.” He leaned close and examined her through the thick lens of the monocle. “Who did you say your mistress was?”
    “I didn’t, sir. She don’t want to reveal her identity.”
    “Then how am I to know you didn’t steal these pearls from her?”
    “I wouldn’t steal them, sir!”
    “You expect me to believe your mistress would trust a scrawny little thing like you?”
    “All’s I know is she asked me to sell them … ”
    “And you were going to carry all that money, how? Stuffed in your grimy pocket?”
    “Ay, sir, and why not?”
    “You little thief, I’ll have the runners after you!” The shopkeeper lunged to grab the pearls off the counter, but Ellie was too quick for him. She snatched them away, and darted out the door in a flash, nearly knocking the wench over.
    Without bothering to put her foot in the stirrup, Ellie leaped onto the gelding. The jeweler dashed into the street screaming, “Thief, thief! Get him! Don’t let him get away!”
    “Don’t harm him!” cried the wench, hurling herself in front of the jeweler.
    Other shopkeepers darted into the street. They raced to catch the gelding’s bridle. Some flapped their aprons to scare the horse.
    “Run, my love. Run,” the wench bellowed, hurling herself at a baker who blocked the lane. Ellie took advantage of the opening. Putting spurs to her mount, she thundered past the crowd, leaving nothing but a rain of sparks from the horse’s steel-clad hooves and the wide-eyed wench blowing kisses at the wind.
    • • •
    A cloud of dust mixed with the roar of men, carriage wheels, and neighing horses led Ellie to the fairgrounds. She handed off the gelding to one of the fair’s stable boys, and then plunged into the crush of hooves and rumps and sweating farmers.
    In the outer rim of the auction ring, small boys held the heads of horses as men circled the beasts studying them for flaws. Vendors of sweet meats tempted the boys, calling out the names of their wares — bargaining with the ruffians for the few ha’ pennies they possessed.
    Closer to the ring, the crowd tightened into a wall of humanity. Ellie squeezed between the packed tailcoats and coveralls to a spot against the rope surrounding the auction block.
    A gigantic draft horse stood in the ring, its handler feeding out lead as the horse tossed its enormous head. “Thirteen. Do I hear fourteen?” barked the auctioneer. “We have fourteen. I’d like to hear fifteen. How ’bout fifteen, anyone? All right, going once, going twice, sold to the chap in the blue cap for fifteen pounds.”
    A slender