Masques of Gold Read Online Free PDF Page B

waste her time and his ointments and potions on strangers. Justin had been infuriated and had started toward them to tell Bowles that what she was doing was necessary by the mayor’s will. However, before he could make his way through the injured lying on the floor and those who recognized him and plucked at his sleeves begging for help, she got to her feet and drew her father away from the child. He had not heard her first few words, but as he drew closer, he heard her bid Bowles leave her to her own devices in a voice of such cold threat and fury that the man had flinched away and, after a glance around, departed.
    The smile faded from Justin’s face. At the time he had been delighted with the lady’s determination to continue her charitable activity and amused by the way she vanquished a man known for miserliness and driving a hard bargain. Now, however, remembering the force of will in Madame Heloise only increased his suspicion that, had she a strong enough purpose, there was little beyond her ability. But one cannot take back a smile, and she was now smiling at him, a little ruefully. The pink that had faded from her cheeks while she spoke about her sons-by-law was back.
    â€œYou cannot remember much good of me,” she said. “I am afraid I bespoke you sharply, and unjustly too. That woman was a fool, and you were so good and kind to those who begged you for help.”
    â€œIt was my business to bring them help,” Justin said stiffly and dismissively. “I was ordered by the mayor to discover what was burnt, what was damaged, and what was whole and who was live, injured, or dead. So I did no more than my duty.”
    Sir Justin was one of those, Lissa thought, who could not accept praise graciously. He had done a great deal more than his duty; she knew because the very moment after she snapped at him, she had seen that what he said in excuse of his impatience was true. Not only was his skin gray and his eyes red-rimmed and sunken with exhaustion, but his face was pocked with burn marks, one hand had an angry red wheal, and his rich gown was torn and singed from fighting the fire himself instead of directing others from a safe distance. And he had also come himself to bring good news and bad so that attention from one of his high station and authority would bring what comfort it could to the afflicted. Lissa found the awkwardness with which he tried to avoid a compliment endearing in a man otherwise so assured in manner. Forgetting for a moment the dreadful circumstance that had brought him back into her life, she could not help wanting to tease him.
    â€œYou did your duty,” she agreed, lowering her eyes demurely, although her smile grew a little broader. “But another would have gone home to bed first, not come when he could hardly stand to tell half-dead men that their homes were still standing and hysterical women that their husbands were alive.”
    â€œI wish more of my news had been of that kind,” Justin remarked, his eyes bleak as he recalled wails of grief and faces gone dead with despair.
    Lissa glanced up and saw that his embarrassment at her praise had been swallowed by the memories of those terrible days, memories that were still painful to him. “Yet to know is better than to be left in doubt.”
    She said the words to comfort him, but her voice faltered as she realized they were true for her at this moment. She was sorry about Peter’s dreadful death and frightened about her father’s possible involvement, but both emotions were far less painful than the agonies of doubt she had endured during her sleepless night.
    Justin’s brows rose, and Lissa sighed and added, “When the worst is known, one begins without even willing it to plan for the future. One may begin by thinking, What will become of me? but the question demands an answer and draws the mind away from grief.”
    Justin did not answer directly beyond a single thoughtful