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

doing, her hand waved in the air.
    “Eh, auctioneer!” the tweedy man yelled. “The wee lad wants to buy the horse!” A shout of laughter erupted from the crowd. Her neighbor gave Ellie a kick on the rump that sent her sprawling into the ring. She grabbed her hat just in time, but got a mouthful of dust for her trouble. Humiliated and angry, she dove back into the crowd. Men cuffed her ears, and called her “the forty-seven-hundred-pound lad.” She fought to keep her place ringside, but they pushed her back. “Go on, out with ye,” they said. “This is serious business.”
    On the outskirts of the gathering, Ellie heard Hugh shout, “I bid four thousand seven!” The assembly forgot the forty-seven-hundred-pound lad and applauded like wild things.
    Ellie pressed her temples, worry pounding her brain. Circling the crush of men, her mind thrummed with one question:
What can I do? What can I do?
She dove back into the throng and prayed no one would notice her.
    All eyes were on Wadsworth now. Men coiled close around him. Wadsworth stumbled forward. Someone must have shoved him from behind. The baron whirled, brandishing the gold-tipped cane. He shook with a series of twitches. “How dare you!”
    A threatening chuckle answered from a few farmers standing nearby. “‘E’s all spastic,” one of them said.
    Lank rushed the crowd with his whip. Dangerous and resentful, the farmers stepped back.
    “Going to Lord Davenport for four thousand seven hundred pounds — once, twice … ”
    “Not today, Davenport,” shouted Wadsworth. “I raise my bid to four thousand eight.”
    Several men near Wadsworth and Lank cursed. Lank whipped them back. “Shut it, knaves,” he snarled.
    On the other side of the ring the crowd began to chant, “Keep our Devon horse! Keep our Devon horse!” Soon, everyone at the fair bellowed the chant.
    “Going once! Going twice … ” Hugh’s hand shot up. The crowd gasped. Ellie shoved her way back to the ringside rope.
    “I raise my bid to four thousand nine,” Hugh yelled. A tremendous roar went up. Men whooped, hollered, and tossed handkerchiefs in the air. Manifesto reared and danced at the end of his lead.
    “I’ll bid four thousand nine fifty!” Wadsworth countered.
    The crowd started to yell. “Leave the horse alone, rotter!” “Coming in and takin’ our Devon horse. Get out of town!”
    “Five thousand pounds,” Hugh roared above the din. As word spread of the bid, the crowd hooted, laughed, and stomped their feet in joy.
    A miracle,
Ellie prayed.
Please, please don’t let that rogue take Manifesto
.
    “Going once, going twice … one last chance, Baron Wadsworth … ” Ellie saw Lank speaking furiously to Wadsworth. Then a farmer snatched Lank’s whip from him while others closed in. “Speakin’ on behalf of ol’ Wadsworth here,” an enormous fellow said, “he don’t want to bid no higher.”
    “Sold to Lord Hugh Davenport!” the auctioneer shouted.
    The crowd went crazy. Men danced the jig. They slapped each other’s backs. They hugged. Hats flew, and handkerchiefs tossed, the dust swirled and rose, thickening the air to a dirty film.
    Manifesto stood trembling in the center of the ring, his eyes white-ringed with terror. He let out a heartbreaking whinny. Then Ellie felt her body move forward, duck between the ropes, and run to her horse. She snatched the lead from Jimmy James and threw herself onto Manifesto’s bare back. Digging her heels into the stallion’s sides, she pointed him straight at the ring rope. He lunged forward, and the crowd broke and parted in panic. In two strides Manifesto flew over the flimsy barrier and out onto the fairgrounds.
    • • •
    No one reacted at first. Ellie gripped Manifesto’s sides with her knees and tried to steer the horse toward the fairground’s gate. Normally, he would respond to shifts in her weight and a touch of the rope, but he was frightened. He shied and bolted, giving two boys time to slam shut the