The Prodigal Son Read Online Free PDF Page B

settled back to watch her wash and dress.
    He had once confided to her just how much he enjoyed these long Sunday mornings, looking endearingly embarrassed when he told her he collected these images of her in her morning disarray, all wild hair and nothing else. So she took her time, washing slowly, brushing her hair with slow, long strokes – well, in general giving him ample opportunity to gawk and compliment. Except that today he didn’t, his eyes on the ceiling rather than on her, a concerned little wrinkle between his brows. He shifted from side to side, gnawed at his lip and threw her a look.
    “What?” She met his eyes.
    “I spoke to Margaret,” he said.
    Alex pulled on her shift. “Really? And what did she say?” She settled the linen cap atop her head, ensuring most of her hair was tucked out of sight.
    “She has to hurry back to Luke.”
    She relaxed, focusing on the stone jars in which she kept some of her oils.
    “Oh good,” Alex muttered. “About time those star crossed lovers were reunited.” She dipped her finger into her homemade rose scented cream and rubbed it into her hands and up her arms.
    “He’s written to her on several occasions,” he went on, indirectly admitting that he had been talking to Margaret of other things beside leaking roofs and draughts. She sent him a dark look.
    “I’ve met her occasionally in the woods, aye?”
    Alex nodded, but she didn’t believe him.
    She returned her attention to her hands, doing a primitive manicure while keeping her face hidden from him. Stockings and garters, petticoats and skirts, and she swished across the room to retrieve her bodice.
    “When will they set out?” Alex asked, attempting to lace the dark green bodice. It strained over her chest and a sudden insight flew across her mind. Another one! And Jacob not yet two…
    “She rides out tomorrow.”
    It took some time for Alex to react, busy as she was with counting days, but once she did she raised his face to his.
    “She?”
    “Aye, I’ve promised to keep Ian here, for now.”
    Without a word she retrieved her shawl and left the room.
    The night had been cold and wet. Everything glittered in the weak September sun, sheer veils of fog clinging to the long grasses that bordered the little river. Alex hurried towards the woods and the long incline that led to her favourite thinking place, the bare hilltop from which she could see her whole orderly world. She brushed against berry laden brambles and ducked under the branches of an elm, breathing deeply when she stepped into the stillness among the trees.
    Behind her, the household would be coming in to sit in the kitchen to listen to Matthew read them yet another passage from the Bible, his dark, rich voice explaining the lessons to be learnt. He’d be pissed at her not being there, but frankly she didn’t care. He should have asked her, he knew she found it difficult to have Ian around, even at a once remove in the little cottage. Now he was going to live in their house, with her children.
    She burst into a run, stopping only when she could taste blood in her mouth, which was far too soon. She was woefully out of shape – at least compared to what she once had been. The daily karate workouts in her former life had become the occasional kata exercise, sneaking away to do it alone in the woods. And now another child… more walks, she decided, long walks.
    Alex picked leaves as she ambled up the hillside, filling her apron with the yellow fronds of rowan, the muted green of oak leaves and the occasional bright red of a clambering vine. She had mingled feelings regarding a new pregnancy, but reminded herself that you reap as you sow and they were always very keen on the sowing part, she and Matthew. Well, she had no intention of telling him her news, he didn’t deserve to know, at least not today. She went on with her dark, mental grumblings and the touch of a hand on her arm so surprised her she shrieked, releasing her hold on her