Sweet Rogue of Mine (The Survivors #9) - Shana Galen Page 0,22

great deal itchier.”

“Ah, here we are,” Mrs. Northgate said as the road widened, and the buildings came into view. “I am an old woman, Miss Howard.” Mrs. Northgate slowed her pace to a dignified stroll.

“I would not say that, ma’am.”

“Oh, yes, you would. And what you will learn, should you live as long as I, is that with age comes liberty. I spend my days as I like.”

“Mrs. Blimkin said you do not go to church.”

Mrs. Northgate cackled. “Are you worried for my soul, girl?”

“Are you not worried?” Pru was always worried for her soul. She was always forgetting to say her prayers and was forever committing some sin or other. Even when she repented of singing inappropriate songs or reading novels, she knew she did not really mean it and would do it again the next day. “I, myself, find it very hard to be good,” Pru admitted.

“So do I,” Mrs. Northgate said as they entered the village and received waves and curious looks from the people out and about. “And to tell you the truth, I have quite given up trying to be good. I do not believe in charity and good deeds.”

Pru’s eyes widened. “You don’t?”

“No.” She gestured ahead. “There is Clark’s, just there. So you see, you need not worry I consider you a charity case. You are something else entirely.”

A few men were gathered to one side of the general store, and Pru glanced at them briefly. They seemed quite intent on their conversation, though, and took no notice of her. She recognized one or two of the group of six or seven from church, but the man in the center, who seemed to be doing most of the talking, was quite unfamiliar.

“Something else entirely,” Pru repeated. “What is that?”

Mrs. Northgate turned to Pru, pausing before the door to Clark’s. “You, Miss Howard, are a project.”

Pru was not quite certain what to make of this description, but she had no time to question it as they were soon inside the store and Mrs. Northgate was demanding attention. Pru wanted to stand back and hide, but Mrs. Northgate insisted on pushing the fabric beside her face in order to show Mr. Clark and his wife what a bad choice it had been and to question their judgment in allowing Miss Howard to buy the fabric in the first place.

She caused quite the commotion, and Pru could only watch in awe as she not only harangued the shopkeepers into taking the material back but also into bringing out their best fabric so she might hold it beside Pru’s face and determine which colors might suit her.

Finally, after what seemed hours but was most likely only a quarter hour at most, Mrs. Northgate decided on a thick russet-colored fabric which would be warm enough to see her through the winter and which, she claimed, brightened Pru’s complexion so it was almost pretty. Then came the haggling. This material was slightly more expensive than the material Pru was returning, and Pru was worried she would have to explain that she did not have money to pay for the difference, but Mrs. Northgate told her to leave the negotiations to her and shooed her out of the shop.

Pru stepped outside, pleasantly surprised that the drizzle had abated—though the sky was still gray and colorless, at least she would not have to hunch under Clark’s awning to stay dry. She strolled to the window and peered inside, watching as Mrs. Northgate gestured grandly and pointed her finger at Mr. Clark.

“I’ll pay you at the end of the week,” a man’s voice was saying. “Work sunup to sundown, rain or shine, and you’ll receive a fair wage.”

Pru glanced down the walk and noticed the group of men who had been clustered in front of Clark’s had shifted one or two shops over. It might have been a different group of men now, but the man speaking was the same stranger she had spotted earlier. Of course, many people in Milcroft were still strangers to her. She hadn’t lived here long enough to know everyone, but he was the sort of man she would have remembered if she’d seen him before.

He was big and brawny. His chest was wide and his shoulders broad. He dressed in a way that was better than some but not so well that he would stand out among the townspeople. He stood out anyway because of his size and his short dark hair. He wore a hat low