The Bride Sale by Candice Hern EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Authors: Candice Hern
- Language: English
- Genre: Historical Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
Cornwall
October 1818
“C’mon, me laddies. What’m I bid fer this fine bit o’ flesh?”
“‘Alf a crown!”
Raucous laughter almost drowned out the auctioneer’s rude response to
the opening bid. James Gordon Harkness, fifth Baron Harkness, leaned
against the rough granite wall of the village apothecary shop just off
Gunnisloe market square. The lane and its shops were deserted; most of the
villagers and market-day travelers had gathered in the square to watch the
livestock auction. James nibbled on the last bit of savory meat pie as his
servant loaded the carriage boot with the day’s purchases: several bolts of
local wool, a few hammered copper cook pots, two large bags of seed, a
brace of pheasant, a basket of smoked fish, and three cases of wine.
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“Two pounds!”
James licked the pastry crumbs from his long fingers as he listened to
the auction taking place around the corner. The voices of auctioneer and
bidders rang clearly in the crisp air of early autumn.
“Two pounds ten.”
“Aw, c’mon,” a female voice shouted above the din. “The poor cow be
worth more’n that, you bleedin’ idiot.”
“Not to my man, she ain’t,” another female replied, eliciting howls of
laughter from the crowd.
“Two pounds fifteen!”
This was followed by more laughter and the earsplitting din of what had
to be the banging of dozens of tin kettles. Village women often took up the
old tradition of kettle banging to encourage more intense bidding. It must be
some prime bit of flesh indeed, James mused as the rhythmic clanging grew
louder.
A stiff breeze chased a flutter of red birch leaves down the lane, and
James brushed back a lock of thick black hair blown forward by the wind.
He watched the leaves skitter away, but kept his ear to the auction in the
square.
“Three pounds!”
As he listened, James savored the fragrant scent of freshly baked
cinnamon buns and meat pies, of roasting pig and rabbit shank, of fresh
cider and ale. The delicious smells and the sounds of gaiety and fierce
bartering inevitably drew his thoughts to earlier times, when he might have
enjoyed such a day, when he would have been a welcome participant. Now
he would not willingly walk into a crowd that size, a crowd of people who
knew him, knew who and what he was.
He seldom ventured into Gunnisloe at all, though it was the closest
market town. He preferred the larger, more distant markets of Truro or
Falmouth, where he was not as well-known. But he had business in
Gunnisloe today.
Taking advantage of market day, he had sent his footman
into the stalls to purchase a few household goods. While the markets
bustled and thrived in the village square, James had kept his distance. He
was in no mood to endure the strained silence, the wary glances, the hushed
whisperings that would inevitably follow his entry into the public square.
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