Donnelly's Promise. Cheryl St.John

Чтение книги онлайн.

       Donnelly’s Promise

      Cheryl St. John

      MILLS & BOON

       Before you start reading, why not sign up?

      Thank you for downloading this Mills & Boon book. If you want to hear about exclusive discounts, special offers and competitions, sign up to our email newsletter today!

       SIGN ME UP!

      Or simply visit

      signup.millsandboon.co.uk

      Mills & Boon emails are completely free to receive and you can unsubscribe at any time via the link in any email we send you.

      Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Chapter Sixteen

       Chapter Seventeen

       Chapter Eighteen

       Chapter Nineteen

       Chapter Twenty

       Copyright

       Endpages

Chapter One

       Castleville, Ireland, 1850

      Atop his scaffolding, Vaughn Donnelly set a brick in place and stood to arch his sore back. He removed his cap and swiped a hand across his perspiring forehead. This spring day he was thankful for the generous warmth of the sun and the scent of heather from the nearby hillside—and even more thankful for the trade his father had taught him. While he had work, most of the prisoners in the yard below were serving time for stealing food.

      From his vantage point, he observed the prisoners below, the men and women divided by a rock wall. The numbers were fairly equal, and all were dressed in coarse blue-and-white-striped prison uniforms. Adults weren’t the only residents. Children had been sentenced to hard labor for their supposed crimes, as well. His work provided too many sickening glimpses into their senseless punishment and abuse. He’d once seen a child die at the hands of a heartless guard, and the sad regret that he’d been unable to prevent it remained with him to this day.

      Conditions were marginally better in Castleville, and he suspected he knew the person responsible for giving Castle Carraig a heart. Vaughn knelt and buttered a brick with mortar, keeping a watchful eye on the door that led from the kitchens. A young woman appeared, as he’d known she would, not dressed in prison garb, but in a pale blue dress and a white apron. Under her white cap, a long, strawberry-blond braid hung down her back. He smiled to himself. Darcy Keegan. She’d been two years behind him in school, and they’d attended the same church. Her father was the chief warden of Castle Carraig Penitentiary.

      Just as she carried a lunch basket toward the tables set end-to-end near the building, he spotted a young boy leading a donkey from the far end of the yard toward the female weavers. Heavily burdened with bundles of brown coir used to make rope and mats, the obstinate animal balked and sat on its hind legs.

      Obviously frustrated, the lad grabbed the donkey’s lead and tugged for all he was worth. The donkey shook its head and sent the boy tumbling sideways. He landed in a heap right where Darcy had been about to step. She fell over him, her petticoats flashing white eyelet in the noonday sun. Sandwiches spilled from the basket onto the dirt.

      Vaughn stifled a chuckle at the sight of Darcy hurriedly adjusting her skirts and picking herself up. Obviously, the only injury was to her dignity. At that point one of the guards insinuated himself into the situation, and Vaughn went on alert.

      “Ye’re a clumsy eejit!” the tall man shouted at the lad, then grabbed him by the collar and hauled him СКАЧАТЬ