Heather and Velvet Read Online Free PDF Page B

warmth of the newly washed earth. The morning sun even poked its way down the chimney to dapple the immaculate hearth. The tiny hut had been swept clean. Sebastian had little doubt that he was now the dustiest thing in it.
    Prudence’s tattered broom looked more suited for riding than sweeping. Her kitten divided his bouncing energiesbetween chasing the broom and knocking dust motes into the sunbeams. As Prudence lifted the broom to swipe the thick cobwebs from the beamed ceiling, Sebastian folded his arms behind his head, basking in the pleasure of watching her.
    She caught her tongue between her teeth in a gesture of childish concentration, and hummed beneath her breath. Every few seconds, a piping note escaped. Dirt smudged her cheek. Sunlight laced the heavy fall of her hair with burgundy. She still wore nothing but the chemise and petticoat. As she passed the doorway, the sun threw the curves of her long legs and slender rump into silhouette. A pang of regret tightened Sebastian’s groin, and he cursed under his breath. Whatever had possessed him to be so damned charitable last night? But as his gaze followed her, even his lust was tempered by a strange contentment.
    She made him wonder what it would have been like to be born a crofter’s child instead of the bastard son of a brutal Highland laird. How would it feel to awaken each morning to such a cozy scene? A clean-swept cottage. A humming wife. It wasn’t difficult to imagine three or four wee ones tottering after Prudence’s petticoat.
    His face darkened as he banished the image. Any woman he might marry would be too rich to know one end of the broom from the other. Nor would she care to ruin her tiny waistline bearing his brats, even if she was young enough. That dream was over and best forgotten. Only Dunkirk mattered now.
    He spoke, and his voice came out with an edge he had not intended. “If I’d have slept any longer, you’d probably be hanging curtains and hooking doilies.”
    She jerked around, dropping the broom with a clunk. A wispy cobweb drifted down and settled over her hair like a wedding bonnet. The sight did not improve his temper.
    It unnerved Prudence to have him glowering at her from beneath his low brows. She shrugged apologetically. “Cleaning is a habit with me. My mother died young. I used to look after my father when we lived in London.” She inched toward the chair where her gown hung. “How is your ankle?”
    “Still broken. My man Tiny will probably have to break it again before he sets it.”
    She winced.
    He struggled to a sitting position, grimacing as his stomach muscles stiffened in protest. “I was hoping you’d be gone when I awoke.”
    She gestured lamely toward the floor. “There was so much dust. I thought I’d straighten things a bit.”
    “I’m sure Tiny will appreciate it when he’s taking his afternoon tea. But you’d best go now. He’s a bit unpredictable. He might decide to break your leg instead of mine.”
    She wavered between a smile and a frown. The vision of being tormented by someone named Tiny lacked real menace. She wished he would stop glaring at her. There must be something she could do to make him look at her as he had the night before. Her face brightened as she spotted the bowl on the table.
    She scooped it up and carried it to him as if it were the Holy Grail. “I washed your pistol. It was all muddy.”
    Sebastian made a small noise at the back of his throat as he peered into the bowl at the submerged weapon. He plucked it out with two fingers. Water streamed from the polished wooden barrel. She was right about one thing. The pistol wasn’t muddy anymore.
    She looked so pleased with herself that his impending roar faded to a choked, “Thank you.”
    Smiling lazily, he brushed the cobweb from her hair. His eyes softened to sleepy gray, and Prudence’s heart beat faster. Her aunt must be right, she thought. Men fancied brainless women. It hadn’t even occurred to him that she had washed