The Immortal American (The Immortal American Series) Read Online Free PDF

providence a little peace. “Neither. Just hypothetically speaking.”
    “But of course.” Monsieur Beaumont nodded his head, but one of his black brows arched.
    I felt a tiny splash land on my hand and looked down at the droplet of rain. The moisture on my skin was a welcome for its coolness. I was too hot when I neared Monsieur Beaumont. But I was beginning to like the heat. So I continued our conversation, rain or no, fevered skin or not. “When Locke was referring to men standing up for themselves against their own government, that isn’t just a civil war, but could turn into a . . . revolution.”
    “ Oui . During your civil war, you English inserted a new government, and if that had lasted then would not your civil war have turned into a revolution?”
    “Aye. A revolution. But do you believe ‘tis right for men to have a war against their own government?”
    He sighed. “As my old age knows, it has been done before. It could be done again.”
    I snorted, and this time couldn’t resist an eye roll. From the very first meeting at our heart tree, he’d jested that his perhaps thirty year-old frame was close to two hundred years instead. Perhaps he felt too old to associate with me. As two more fat drops landed on my hatless head, I pushed that nagging thought away. “Are you near a millennium now?”
    He chuckled. “Not quite. But two centuries of life feels like a thousand years lived.”
    I nudged his iron-like arm. “Just hypothetically speaking, of course.”
    He softly laughed again, but then looked up at the sky. “We are getting rained upon.”
    When he met my eyes again, I nodded. I didn’t want to say our goodbyes just yet. I didn’t want to go back to the farm to either pace about our parlor or try to find some odd job, of which there were many, to do. I didn’t want to leave him. Monsieur Beaumont was becoming closer to me than any friend had before. Just a friend , I reminded myself daily.
    He suddenly clasped my arms. “Are you willing to sit through a science experiment?”
    I smiled and nodded as the rain started in earnest to flush us from the forest.
    He grabbed his overcoat, which he shook out. Free from rocks and small sticks, Monsieur Beaumont flicked his coat over two branches that stretched out over my head. He used some extra twine I had that I’d used for picking some wild mint to dry. He tied the ends of his coat to the branches, and within just a minute’s time I had shelter over my head.
    He knelt in front of me, still getting pelted with rain. I scooted to the very edge of the make-shift refuge and waved for him to enter, sit close to me. He hesitated for just a moment, swallowing hard. When he unceremoniously plopped next to me he was wet yet warm. He chuckled, but I noticed his laugh sounded strained. We both tucked our legs to our chests and wrapped our arms around our shins. My shoulder fit under his and my hip, arm, and leg met his. I knew exactly when he was taking a breath.
    We looked at each other and chortled again.
    “Where were we in our conversation, Miss Buccleuch?”
    My brain wouldn’t function, and for a moment I thought I just might have the audacity to touch his face, so close to mine. I blinked as I watched a small rivulet run from his dark hair down the side of his countenance. His eyes searched my features, and I was glad for the lack of sunlight to hide my fiery cheeks. My behavior was appalling; what was running through my mind was much worse; and making it impossible was the fact that I couldn’t seem to stop myself.
    But somehow, through brute force really, I clenched my hands to be still and cleared my throat. “You were saying you were a million years old.”
    He chuckled yet again, something that came so easy to the both of us when we were together. “We were talking about men overthrowing their governments. Well, that was our targeted conversation, oui ?”
    “Aye.” I nodded and tried to hide my smile. Wanting nothing more than to make