By Moonlight Wrought (Bt Moonlight Wrought) Read Online Free PDF Page B

manner upset Dirk, her
beauty did not.  He found himself looking at the young lady’s figure: 
definitely feminine, but able and strong, having seen a good share of work in
its lifetime.  Her attire was not of the city:  her britches worn and dark,
blouse rugged, light cloak worn in case of summer showers bleached in places by
the sun.  She caught Dirk staring again and when he looked up, she stared him
in the eye.  Dirk nervously turned away.
             “I don’t mean to be nasty,” she said. 
“I’m Melissa.”  Dirk, strangely uncomfortable, shifted his weight from foot to
foot.  “Looks like you need someone to take care of your horse, maybe I could
help you.  I need a job.”
             “You know a lot about horses—at least
more than I do.  And I guess I am not afraid he would give you work in my
place.  I’m sure you can’t do the work I can,” he said proudly, unintentionally
thrusting his great shoulders back, his broad chest out.  Melissa laughed at
him and Dirk blushed, adding, “Well, maybe Mr. Bessemer could give you a job
working with our animals.  We’ve got six horses.”
             “Can I go with you and see?” she asked
hopefully, her face still red from laughter.  Though Dirk could not imagine
anyone wanting his job, let alone a woman as pretty and wholesome as Melissa,
he agreed.  “I don’t want to be forward, but I need some money, and it’s clear
ya’ll don’t know much about these animals.  Or maybe you just don’t care,” she
guessed.
             “No, that’s not it.  But...well, I have
to deliver this,” he said, swinging his arm toward the laden wagon.  “I gotta
go.”
             Melissa shrugged her shoulders.  “I
figured that much,” she said with a knowing nod.  “I’ll help you.”  She smiled
and climbed up into the wagon, grabbing the reins.  Dirk quickly sprang up into
place next to her and watched as she coaxed Candy ahead.  Dirk was curious:  he
had never known anyone who had offered to help him do anything without first
wanting to be paid.
     
             Mendric ordered another round as Selric
drained his mug.  “Excuse us, ladies,” Mendric said and the two attractive,
scantily clad companions bounced up from the laps of the young noblemen, each
of them kissing their host.  Selric patted his new friend on the backside as
she slid playfully and reluctantly away with a giggle.  Mendric, conversely,
let the other girl leave unnoticed. 
             “What was it that you wanted to talk
about?” Mendric asked.
             “Do you remember Sonya?” Selric asked
uncomfortably.  Mendric looked puzzled, but knew something was bothering his
brother:  something seemed to be troubling him all afternoon.  “You know: 
brown hair, blue eyes.  Worked at The Yeoman .  Real sweet.  Nice
figure,” Selric continued, cupping his hands before his chest.
             “Oh yes.  Sonya,” Mendric acknowledged. 
“I don’t know what she sees in you.  She needs a responsible man.  Like me,” he
joked, though both knew Mendric would never lower himself to fraternize with a
common-born woman, no matter how beautiful:  he simply enjoyed harassing
Selric.  His friendliness with the pleasure girls was like a man holding his
niece upon his lap.  It would never go farther than simple holding.
             “She’s dead.  Murdered.  Six weeks ago,”
Selric blurted, brushing off Mendric’s mirth.  “I checked with the district
constable.  She was pretty messed up.  Some real sick bastard.”  Selric shook
his head and looked forlornly, coldly, into his beer.
             “That’s horrible.  Of all your friends,
why her?” said Mendric, then his mood changed from sorrow to anger and he
reached over and grabbed Selric by the shirt.  “It had better not be because
you did something before you left.  Did you owe somebody money or something?” 
The