* * *
When Harlan dismounted in front of the Suttones’ shop, Blake walked out and leaned against the veranda post, watching him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the duckling as he wandered over. ‘From your cousin,’ he said, holding it out for her to take. ‘Best not mention it in front of your uncle.’
She took the chirpy little bird and held it up to look at it properly. ‘Looks to be a male judging by its darker colouring.’
‘You can still eat it.’ Harlan gave his horse a pat. ‘Your uncle says he’ll call on you when his schedule permits.’
Blake looked away. ‘No letter, then?’
He shook his head.
‘Not too surprising.’
Harlan felt a bit sorry for her, which was far from ideal. ‘I’ll see what I can do about getting you some food.’
Her cool eyes returned to him. ‘You’ve already spared my sister’s life,mylife, and been forced to endure my uncle’s company. I think I can take it from here.’
If she was too proud to accept help, he was not about to beg. ‘Fine.’ He turned back to his horse, annoyed by her pride but mostly at himself for caring either way. Mounting, he looked at her. ‘I won’t be so lenient moving forwards.’
She tilted her head. ‘Lenient? Right. My sister was winded for about two days thanks to your leniency.’
‘She’s alive.’
Blake crossed her arms. ‘And next time?’
He would not be painted as the bad guy when he had just brought her a duck. ‘There shouldn’t be a next time. Unless the lesson didn’t stick the first time.’
‘And what lesson is that?’
He set his jaw. ‘When defenders form a line, you stay behind it.’
’She’s not even of age.’
‘She’s old enough to grasp basic laws.’
‘Perhaps the laws are the problem.’ She bit her lip, gaze falling to the duckling. ‘What I meant is—’
‘I know what you meant.’
She lifted her eyes to him. ‘I don’t want you to think I’m ungrateful.’
He swung his horse around. ‘Don’t worry. Come tomorrow, I shall not think of you at all.’
Chapter 8
It was tough work keeping a duckling that age alive.
‘Well, it survived another night,’ Lyndal announced on day four. ‘So far, so good.’
‘It slept on my neck,’ Blake said, rubbing at her aching muscles. She had been stuck in the one position for most of the night.
‘Go fetch the kitchen scraps,’ Candace said.
‘What sort of privileged life do you think we’re living here?’ Lyndal asked. ‘There are no kitchen scraps. The days of throwing out any part of a vegetable are long over.’
Blake suppressed a smile.
Eda entered the courtyard, looking worried.Uncle Thomas just pulled up out front,she signed.
