Rose's Pledge Read Online Free PDF Page B

levity aimed at her older sister. Her smile was as broad as anyone else’s as she and her fancy gentleman-owner stood beside his elegant horse.
    Once the revelry died down, the captain continued his spiel. “Ye’ve merely seen the woman act the way of any mother hen worth its feathers. She’s tryin’ to keep her little chicks tucked beneath her wings. Of the three of ‘em, I’d say she’s by far the most experienced worker.” He paused. “Now, who’ll give me a startin’ bid?”
    A newcomer attired in a gold-trimmed burgundy frock coat shouldered between two other prospective customers standing just below Rose. “I need to look over them hands of hers.”
    Rose was tempted to refuse, considering his request was only a little less degrading than being asked to display her teeth. Yet from the man’s dress and expression, he appeared quite successful and even earnest, especially compared to the more seedy types who made up much of the gathering. She held out her trembling palms as he and several onlookers crowded closer to examine them.
    “Look pretty soft to me,” one commented.
    “Aye,” someone else agreed. “All three of them sisters are wearin’ right fine frocks. Mayhap the lasses are more used to givin’ orders than takin’ ‘em.”
    The captain let out a huff of disgust. “‘Tis true, the Harwoods come from excellent stock on t’other side of the water. To see any of ‘em put to work as mere scrubwomen would be a pure waste. This one in particular is accomplished in preparin’ tasty foods. She can put every spice ever brought to the British Isles to proper use.”
    Rose found the captain’s praise of her talents a bit excessive; nevertheless, she appreciated his generous words on her behalf. Cooking indeed had been the one household duty she truly enjoyed and had never relinquished to a servant.
    A shout came from the left. “Fifteen pounds. A good English cook beats any of those Frenchies hired by folks over on the Potomac. Can’t abide their runny sauces.”
    “Sixteen,” another called out.
    “Seventeen.”
    “Eighteen.”
    “Nineteen.”
    Bids came in such swift succession Rose could no longer ascertain the individuals speaking. Glancing at the captain, she realized the insufferable toad was actually deriving a perverse sort of pleasure from her distress. She clamped her teeth together, determined to bear the shameful outrage with fortitude.
    A wagon rolled to a stop at the edge of the crowd, and the driver, an older man with a scraggly, graying beard rose to his feet. The ill-fitting clothes on his short and squat figure looked rumpled and soiled beneath the droopy-brimmed hat he wore. His high-pitched voice rang out above the din. “Did I hear tell the lass is a good cook?”
    “Aye.” Captain Durning nodded.
    “I’ll gi’ ye fifty pounds fer her.”
    “Sold!” The captain allowed no time for reconsideration on the part of his customer.
    Rose looked at Durning, who grinned like a pirate with a newly captured treasure on this most profitable of days. When he snagged her hand and dropped down to the splintery wharf, she lost her will to resist. Meekly she followed as he pulled her toward the wagon driver ambling his way through the crowd.
    Close up, the squat newcomer looked even more shabby and unkempt. His ruffled shirt bore a profusion of smudges and food stains, and he reeked of sweat and other indefinable odors. Rose could not venture a guess as to when he’d last seen a bath, if ever. The mangy, untidy ne’er-do-well was to be her owner? How would she suffer such a fate? Her throat clenched as dismay crushed her soul.
    Oblivious to the obnoxious smells resonating from the wagoneer, Captain Durning grasped the man’s grubby hand and pumped it with fervor. “Come with me. I’ve a quill and ink on yon barrelhead. Once ye settle up, I’ll give ye her papers to sign.” He checked around and gestured to his other two successful buyers. “Ye men that bid on the other