Times of Turmoil by Anna Belfrage EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author:Anna Belfrage
- Language: English
- Genre:Time Travel Romance
- Format: PDF / EPUB
- Size: 2 MB
- Price: Free
She should probably have kept her mouth shut. But Erin Melville wasn’t the
type of woman who turned the other way when a big, hulking brute of a
man chose to punish a scrawny boy in the middle of the street. Especially
not when the asshole was using a whip on the child. So she waded in.
“Stop!”
“This is no matter for you to meddle in,” the man snarled, bringing the
crop down in yet another vicious strike across the boy’s narrow shoulders.
Erin shoved him. “He’s bleeding!”
“As he should! A worthless, useless servant is what he is!”
Servant? The boy was at most twelve—or so she guessed, given his
size. Too thin, the linen of his worn shirt clinging to a knobbly spine and
bony shoulder blades.
The man raised the crop. Erin placed herself between him and the boy.
“Move!” He was sweating, the broken veins on his nose and chin
looking almost purple against the red of his skin.
“No.”
“Fine,” he sneered. “I dare say you’ve tasted a crop once or twice, hey?
Once a slave—” He broke off on a yelp.
“Best not finish that,” Duncan said, blue eyes flashing. Erin smiled at
her husband, received a frown in return. She sighed inwardly.
Inconspicuous, she reminded herself, you should always strive to be
inconspicuous. Well, so Duncan thought at any rate, hemming and hawing
when he verbalised that she did not need to bring attention to the fact that
she was a woman of colour. Not something to be flouted in a day and age
where anyone with less than lily-white skin was suspected of being a slave,
at least here in the American colonies.
In Erin’s opinion, just being a woman was something of a trial in the
year 1718. There were definitely days when she longed for her other life in
the twenty-first century. Until she remembered that had she not fallen
through time in 2016, she’d likely have been burned to a crisp in the fire
engulfing her home. Discreetly, she took a couple of deep breaths,
attempting to calm her thundering pulse: a time traveller, an impossibility,
that’s who she was, and should anyone find out . . . well, being a woman of
colour would be a walk in the park in comparison! She swallowed, took yet
another breath and redirected her attention to her husband and the man with
the crop.
“There’s no hiding it, is there?” the unknown brute sneered. “Look at
her: where did you find her? In one of the French colonies? After all,
everyone knows those Frenchies are happy to fornicate with their slaves.”
“As are the English colonists,” Duncan retorted. “But my wife is not—
has never been—a slave.”
“No? Her skin says otherwise.” The brute laughed. “Should I find her
alone, I’d claim her as mine and—” Whatever he had intended to say
became a loud gurgle.
“Careful,” Duncan said, releasing the man to double over and gasp for
breath. “Anyone touches my wife best be prepared to meet me at dawn—to
die.”
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