Rakes and Radishes Read Online Free PDF Page A

fields. When he had inherited his estate, the fields hadn’t been plowed in three decades and a hoe could barely break the hard, eroded surface. Now neat rows, sprouting with tender green wheat stretched to the horizon. He couldn’t understand Henrietta, that she would sacrifice this paradise. He examined her face, blotched and stained with tears. What would make this woman happy?
    He took the volumes from her hands. “I will read them,” he said quietly.
    Henrietta’s face brightened. “So you will help me?”
    “No.”
    “Give me my books! I should have known. You’re so uncaring. Edward will marry Lady Sara, and I will be stuck in this awful place for the rest of my life with all these sheep and chickens and nothingness.” She buried her head in his chest, drawing her arms around his neck, and clung to him, weeping. “It hurts so much. How could he do this?”
    Just walk away. This is not a good idea.
    He tucked a stray curl behind her ear. “Now, if I read these books and happen to become dashing and mysterious, and Lady Sara naturally falls in love with me without any effort on my part, then I am absolved of any guilt.”
    She raised her head. The smile that wavered on her trembling lips as tears still streamed her cheeks was like the sun coming through the rain.
    You pathetic fool. You’re going to let her break your heart again.

Chapter Two

    A chilly wind blew over the flat, crop-lined fields. Henrietta snuggled against Kesseley’s side to shield herself from it. He was as big as a mountain and just as strong. He never seemed to mind cold or wind or rain. Instead he walked about, head tilted to the sky with an exhilarated smile while the elements battered his face. He covered her hand in his large, roughened one, his warmth spilling into her body like a tide of relief. Kesseley always made everything well.
    Always.
    Ugh! Remorse knotted in her belly as the realization sunk in—she was using him again. She didn’t mean to. Truly. It had just seemed like such a good idea an hour ago.
    And why was he always so willing? In a small way, she wished he had said no, a true, resounding, unequivocal “no” that she couldn’t wiggle away from. She might, well, respect him more if he didn’t always crumble to her wishes. Hot shame ran through her. She missed her step, stumbling slightly, but Kesseley held her up, keeping her from falling.
    “Are you well?” he asked, his eyes filled with genuine concern.
    She shouldn’t be doing this. She was a horrid person to abuse his feelings. Poor, loyal Kesseley.
    She would tell him she’d changed her mind.
    Yes, she would.
    Right now.
    She opened her mouth, and breath rose from the back of her throat, but no words formed. His eyes searched her face with the same seriousness he reserved for examining worm-infested crops or sick sheep, checking for the smallest detail to cause alarm.
    “I’m fine, thank you, just a rock,” she murmured. A ring of hazel circled his pupils, blending to gray on the edges. Had they always been that way?
    He nodded, trusting her explanation.
    You’re a horrid person, Henrietta.
    They didn’t take the nicely paved road. Instead, he tromped with her through the muddy footpaths and drainage ditches running along his fields while Samuel followed behind, sticking his nose under the hem of her gown. Kesseley swept his arms in broad motions over the land, explaining that here he would grow wheat and there, clover. Henrietta smiled, which encouraged him to expound upon his grain production theories and the mixture he would feed his cattle. This led to the design of the new outbuildings he was going to construct to better compost the animal manure and refuse. He had the same passion for farming that Edward had for poetry. And that she had for Edward.
    How could she be so cruel? How could she abuse his affections?
    Wait! Why should she feel miserable because she might be using Kesseley? What if, by sharpening him up, giving him a little town