Amanda Scott (36 page)

Brandon, too, had seen the younger man. “Ah, there you are Salas, old man. I’ve come to redeem my watch and to pay what I owe you for this nag.”

“A fine
gree
,” the young man said. “He goes well for you?”

“Very well,” Brandon said, shifting Carolyn a bit in order to extract his purse from his waistcoat. “Here’s your money. Where’s my watch?”

The young man’s eyes sparkled with humor as he reached into the pocket of his coat and extracted a gold watch. “Salas has a better one than this. You may have it back.”

“Thank you.” Brandon grinned at him. “Think you could take a look at the lady’s nag there. Strained a fetlock on the trail. Daresay it needs a compress applied to it, soonest.”

The gypsy nodded and knelt to examine the injury. Carolyn saw that his hands were large but gentle as they moved swiftly over the leg. Now that he was not looking at her, she found it difficult to take her eyes from him. Muscles rippled beneath his coat, and his manner was as lordly as his father’s, his profile positively princely. Except for such trifling distinctions as the contrasting colors of their hair, skin, and eyes, he looked just as she had imagined Sir Bartholomew Lancelot must look.

When Salas turned toward them as he arose again, she noted the natural grace with which he moved, and a daring notion shot into her mind. She tried to suppress it, calling herself a fool, but it remained to tantalize her with possibilities. She had wanted to teach Sydney a much needed lesson. Was it possible that the opportunity had come to do just that?

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 1991 by Lynne Scott-Drennan

Cover design by Mimi Bark

978-1-4804-1537-9

This edition published in 2013 by Open Road Integrated Media

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