Twixt Two Equal Armies Read Online Free

lordship, Baugham leaned leisurely at the bar and sipped at the tankard that had been drawn and placed before him without question. He wiped the sweat off his brow, sighed deeply and listened absentmindedly to the busy noises of a coaching inn preparing for the departing Edinburgh stage. There was some sort of commotion at the door and suddenly it was flung wide open and a cloaked, stooping figure pushed a large bandbox through the door. He watched as this figure, a young lady as it happened, placed the bandbox to the side and began dragging in a trunk. Absently, he wondered where the boy was that should be helping her with such heavy work.
    The young lady, Miss Holly Tournier, was wondering the same thing when the strap she had been tugging on suddenly snapped and nearly sent her onto the floor on her backside. Holly looked around in embarrassment, but thankfully saw that the room was nearly empty, except for Mr Robertson, who had his back to her at the moment and apparently did not notice her distress, and one other gentleman leaning against the bar — watching her with a smirk on his face.
    “Quite heavy those things, aren’t they?” he said in a refined drawl, partly in her direction, partly at Mr Robertson who had returned with his mail. He slipped the proprietor a third coin in addition to the ones for the ale and the service and, nodding towards the lady, gave him an encouraging look. Consequently, Mr Robertson disappeared again in search for Tommy.
    Holly stared in disbelief, not only at his smile and callous remark, but at the fact that he could simply stand there and watch her struggling and not even think to offer any kind of assistance. Of course, at the sound of his voice she thought she knew exactly who the gentleman was; he was that lord who had bought the Clyne lands up by Nethery Farm a few years earlier. On further reflection it did not surprise her that he should be so ill-mannered. What else was to be expected from a rich member of the peerage, brought up to a life of idleness and privilege hiding away at his little plaything of a cottage and probably engaged in unspeakable sloth and indulgence? She rolled her eyes at his comment and gave him her best smirk in return.
    “ Please , do not trouble yourself, sir,” she replied in a voice that she hoped reflected the full level of sarcasm she intended. “I am sure I can manage it quite well on my own.”
    “Oh, I have no doubt about that!” The reply came in the same cheerfully lazy drawl. “I’m always amazed at the amount of stubbornly capable women in this part of the world. Can’t make it easy for aspiring chivalrous men.”
    “Well, it is certainly obvious you have learnt that lesson to heart, sir,” Holly muttered, shuffling her luggage out of the way across the floor.
    Her comment was lost in the sound of the bandbox scraping the floor and Lord Baugham threw a glimpse over his shoulder towards where Mr Robertson had disappeared.
    Holly stood up and tried to straighten her clothes. She was tired, her limbs ached, her nose was full of the dust of the road and the odours of her fellow passengers and on top of everything she now had to stay dignified in the face of a rude and boorish man who had left all his gentlemanly habits south of the border, thinking people up here were not entitled to his good manners. It was almost too much. She just wanted to be home already.
    She felt her throat constrict and concentrated on looking haughty and fixing Lord Baugham with her best dark look, perfected over all her years as a schoolteacher.
    “They’re in such a hurry these days,” the man she was busy disliking suddenly said. “The stage I mean. You know, I was told once by this fellow I met out with a shooting party that the passengers on the stage he came on were given three minutes over a hundred miles to get something to eat over two stops! Reading and Millsby, I think. Or Millston. In Linconshire at any rate. Can you imagine, he came to join us