Beloved Enemy Read Online Free PDF Page B

patient, Edmund, for just a little longer. I know it is not your
greatest virtue, but I fear it is one you must learn to practice. " She smiled a reassurance that she
didn't feel and prayed that Edmund, who knew her so well, would not see through
the facade. The son of John Redfe r n's
widowed sister, he had grown up with the Redfe r ns, providing Ginny with the sibling she had never had, and the
brotherly companionship of one who was not a brother, and with whom, therefore,
she could share so many growing pains.
    She left the way she had come, opening the stone door a
crack, peering around to ascertain that the coast was clear before slipping out
into the dusk. Rather than return immediately to the vegetable garden, Ginny
strolled casually to the orchard. If anyone had noticed her leaving the garden
earlier, she could say that she had decided to pick fruit first. No one would think
that it had taken her about twenty minutes to walk the quarte r mile to the orchard.
    The orchard seethed with l ife
as the men set up their bivouacs and lit the braziers that would cook their
evening meal. They had for the most part discarded their breastplates and
helmets and sat amidst their tents polishing armor, joking and talking, taking
their ease on this warm summer evening in the peaceful surroundings where no
pitched battle threatened for the morrow.
    Ginny moved amongst them, picking fruit from the lowest
branches. No one spoke to her, but they stared as if she were some kind of
misshapen exhibit in a traveling circus. Women were a luxury. The colonel
permitted no camp followers, and excursions into the local towns were strictly
regulated, doled out like spoonful of medicine to purge the unruly body. The
men grumbled at the strictness of the regime and compared their lives with
those of their colleagues in brigades where the command was lax. But even as
they complained, they knew that their colonel was as careful of their lives as
he was of their morals. In battle he was always at their head, never threw them
into futile engagements, thought more of strategy than vainglory, and they were
well fed and as rested as it was possible for an army on the move to be.
    The word had gone around that the colonel had placed the
mistress of the manor under house arrest and she was to be accorded all due
respect. If discovered attempting to leave the immediate boundaries of the
house and garden, she was to be prevented with courtesy and escorted to the
colonel. These orders, however, did not alleviate the lustful stirrings at the
sight of that svelte body, the firm high breasts pressing against the bodice of
her gown as she reached up for a succulent piece of fruit, or the delineation
of her hips as she bent to pick up a windfall.
    Ginny was acutely uncomfortable and decided that she would avoid the orchard in future. Those
stripping eyes made her feel like a coquettish wanton, deliberately tantalizing
those who could not take advantage of her apparently freely offered charms. If
it were not for the protection of Alex Marshall, she would not have left the
orchard unmolested, of that Ginny was convinced as she walked away, fighting
the urge to run.
    Chapter 2
    The stableyard was now quiet, the horses bedded down and
their attendants ga there d in a companionable group by the
barn, wooden spoons scraping the tin porringers clean, the contents of pewter
tankards disappearing down thirsty throats.
    The kitchen was deserted. Ginny laid the basket of produce on
the table and worried about the task she had agreed to perform. How many
officers did the colonel command? And what in the world was she to serve them
in the short time available? He had spoken of plentiful supplies, and she had
seen evidence of that earlier. At least the range was lit, although it made the
kitchen unpleasantly warm. Well, first she must discover how many she was to
cook for. with a purposeful tilt of her head, Ginny went in search of the
colonel.
    The house carried a strange