Mischief and Magnolias Read Online Free Page B

speech pattern of Captain Davenport, “is Miss Shaelyn Cavanaugh. She is the daughter of the woman who owns this home. Beware. She has a temper.”
    “So I see,” the second man said with a chuckle. “When will she be leaving?”
    “She’s not.” Again, Captain Davenport answered, his accent placing him from Boston, an accent Shaelyn had become familiar with when she attended school there. “She came to an agreement with Major Harte. She and her mother will be staying.”
    “Is the major out of his ever-loving mind?” A third voice joined the conversation, and Shaelyn wondered if the tall man with the gray in his sideburns had uttered the question. It didn’t matter. She had no intention of learning their names. “What is he thinking?”
    “I wasn’t privy to the conversation. All I know is they are staying. Mrs. Cavanaugh will cook and that young lady will be cleaning up after us.” He paused then ordered, “Please put my trunk upstairs in the hallway.”
    Shaelyn moved away from the door and stormed into the library with one purpose—to give Major Harte a piece of her mind.
    He didn’t look up from the paperwork spread out on the desk—her father’s desk. “What can I do for you, Miss Cavanaugh?”
    “I see your word means nothing,” she stated, her voice cracking in her ears.
    Remy finally glanced at her. One dark eyebrow rose in question. “Excuse me?”
    She pointed toward the hallway and the line of men standing idly, waiting to pass more foodstuffs. Mud from their boots splattered on the marble tile. “Your men are ruining my home! Why drag everything through the main house when there’s a perfectly good entrance to the cellar in the back?”
    Remy looked past her, his mouth settling in a thin line. “I’ll take care of it.” He rose from his chair with a wince of pain, grabbed his cane, and left the room. Shaelyn followed. Their footsteps tapped on the marble floor; her two to every one of his, despite his limp.
    “Vince,” Remy said when he walked out the front door and stepped into the pile of flour. White puffs shot into the air. “Have the men bring the wagons around back to unload.” He glanced down at his boots and the flour coating the high gloss shine. “And have someone clean this up.” He turned to Shaelyn. “Satisfied?”
    “No, Major,” she said, her voice sounding strange to her own ears. “What would satisfy me is having you leave.”
    “I’m afraid that’s not going to happen.” He turned on his heel and went down the hall in his uneven gait, his back ramrod straight as he returned to the study.
    Shaelyn watched his progress and exhaled slowly.
This is not going to work at all. I don’t want these men here.
    She knew she had no choice though. Neither did anyone else whose home had been invaded by these men in blue, but at least Shaelyn and her mother were being allowed to stay. So many others found themselves homeless. Shaelyn squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. She turned to face Captain Davenport and the other officers. Her cheeks burned as she eyed each man and waited for one of them to give the order.
    They stared back at her, almost mesmerized.
    “Well?” She cocked an eyebrow and put her hands on her hips. “Will one of you give the order or shall I?”
    The man with the gray in his sideburns gave an exaggerated bow. “My pleasure.” He turned toward the men and gave the command. In moments, the men rushed to obey.
    Shaelyn turned on her heel and marched toward the kitchen. One battle won. How many more to go?
    Her mother was standing on a step stool when Shaelyn entered the kitchen, pulling glasses from a cabinet high above the sink, then bending low to place them on a rolling cart. Fading sunlight coming in through the window created a warm glow around her. “You shouldn’t be doing this, Mama.” She took the glasses from her mother’s hands, placed them on the cart, then helped her from the stool. “Why are you bringing all the