A Horse Called Mogollon (Floating Outfit Book 3) Read Online Free Page B

rump to grind
against each other in a fluid manner observable beneath her skirt.
Eagerly the bellhop followed her and the new guests trailed along
at a more leisurely pace. That was how Beatrice wanted things.
Let M’sieur
le beau Counter compare her with the fat old hag at his side and
the Vicomtesse would find him the more susceptible on their next
meeting.
    ‘ Whooee!’ breathed Mark, watching Beatrice disappear into
her room. ‘There goes a butt-end just begging for some feller to
pinch it.’
    ‘ Or for
some gal to kick it,’ Libby said dryly. ‘Was I the clerk down
there, I’d sure watch her ’n’ her husband when it comes time for
them to pull out.’
    ‘ How
come?’ the big blond inquired.
    Wishing to get a better view of
the Vicomtesse’s departing derriere, the bellhop had drawn ahead of Libby
and Mark. So they carried on their conversation without being
overheard.
    ‘ Happen
her husband’s too poorly off to buy her anything to go under that
blouse,’ Libby elaborated, ‘he won’t be able to pay his
room-rent.’
    ‘ You
mean she wasn’t wearing anything under it?’
    ‘ Way
you was a-sweating and staring down there, I figured you knew
that.’
    ‘ Can’t
say’s how I noticed,’ Mark lied.
    ‘ Maybe
the steam the clerk was raising fogged up your eyes same way it got
on his spectacles,’ Libby grinned. ‘Was I you-all, I’d sure look
under my bed afore you get into it tonight.’
    ‘ I
allus do,’ Mark assured her. ‘My Mammy taught me to have regular
habits.’
    ‘ This
time you could find more than the chamber-pot there,’ warned
Libby.
    By that time they had reached the door
of Room Seventeen and the bellhop opened it.
    ‘ Put my
bag on the bed, son,’ Libby instructed, then looked at Mark. ‘You
feel like going riding?’
    ‘ Where’d you want to go?’
    ‘ Me?’
    ‘ Dusty
said for me to stay close to you while you’re toting the horse-sale
money,’ Mark reminded the smiling blonde. ‘And life goes a heap
easier happen he’s kept happy.’
    ‘ I just thought you might want to take up that invitation you
got down in the hall.’
    ‘ Did I
get one?’ Mark asked in mock surprise. ‘Damned if I noticed
it.’
    ‘ Are
you sure you’re Big Rance Counter’s son?’ Libby demanded. ‘Anyway,
after we’ve settled in, we’ll go grab a meal. Then we’ll collect
the money and pay off the mesteneros— less you’ve other notions.’
    ‘ Nary a
notion, ma’am,’ grinned Mark and walked along to the door of his
room.
    Entering her quarters, Libby thought
of the incident in the hall and smiled. That foreign gal had sure
made her intentions towards Mark obvious. Given half a chance, she
would have likely picked him up and toted him to her bed. Not that
Libby entirely blamed her. Young Mark Counter was one helluva hunk
of man.
    ‘ Now
hush yourself from thinking things like that, Libby Schell,’
thought the blonde as the bellhop left the room. ‘And you not a
year widowed, for shame.’
    After settling into their rooms,
Libby and Mark went downstairs. Entering the dining room, which faced the bar
on the other side of the hall, they found the Vicomtesse and a man they assumed to be her
husband already present.
    Tall, slender, dressed to the
height of Eastern fashion, the Vicomte de Brioude had hair so thickly plastered
with bay rum that it looked as glossy-black as his wife’s. Although
sallow and thin, his face was passably handsome. There was,
however, an obsequious air about him that seemed more suited to a
servant than a member of the Ancien Regime. For all that, everything about the
couple’s appearance hinted at considerable wealth and social
standing.
    Beatrice gave no sign of being
aware of Mark ’s presence, other than darting an occasional glance his
way. Libby had selected a table on the far side of the room and the
meal went by without incident.
    ‘ That
feller looked a mite peaked,’ Mark commented sotto voce after the de Brioudes had
finished their