Never a Road Without a Turning

By
R
OWAN
M
C
A
LLISTER

A Promise of Tomorrow*

Cherries on Top

Cuddling (DSP Anthology)*

Feels Like Home

Grand Adventures (DSP Anthology)*

Hot Mess*

My Only Sunshine*

Riding Double (DSP Anthology)*

Uniform Appeal (DSP Anthology)*

A Devil’s Own Luck* • Never a Road Without a Turning*

*Available in paperback

Published by
D
REAMSPINNER
P
RESS

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com

Published by

Dreamspinner Press

5032 Capital Circle SW
Suite 2, PMB# 279
Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886

USA

http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of author imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Never a Road Without a Turning

© 2014 Rowan McAllister.

Cover Art

© 2014 Paul Richmond.

http://www.paulrichmondstudio.com.

Cover content is for illustrative purposes only

and any person depicted on the cover is a model.

All rights reserved. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of international copyright law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines, and/or imprisonment. Any eBook format cannot be legally loaned or given to others. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the Publisher, except where permitted by law. To request permission and all other inquiries, contact Dreamspinner Press, 5032 Capital Circle SW, Suite 2, PMB# 279, Tallahassee, FL 32305-7886, USA, or http://www.dreamspinnerpress.com/.

ISBN: 978-1-62798-883-4

Digital ISBN: 978-1-62798-884-1

Printed in the United States of America

First Edition

May 2014

Thank you to all the new friends I’ve met since beginning this journey

and to Dreamspinner for still believing in me.

July, 1826

Penrith, Cumberland

P
IP
CROUCHED
in the shadows, keeping perfectly still and his breaths shallow so no sound would betray him. Soft footfalls from the hall alerted him that his prey approached, and Pip’s muscles tensed in anticipation.

Soon. Soon he would have them.

Only a few more seconds and his patience would be rewarded. His fingers tingled, and an evil grin spread across his face as the sound of soft leather slapping against stone drew nearer. Pip coiled his body like a spring, his fingers drawing into claws. As soon as the second body came into view, he pounced.

Ear-splitting shrieks rent the air, and Pip grappled with flailing limbs. But he’d misjudged his leap, and all three of them tumbled to the ground in an untidy heap. In an effort to maintain the upper hand, Pip wrapped an arm around a slender waist and struggled to his feet.

“Put me down! Put me down, you brute!” the girl cried piteously, kicking her legs frantically but unable to land a blow.

Pip grinned in triumph. He wanted to cackle with glee but keeping his hold on the wriggling body in his arms took all his strength, and he needed to get her away from her companion before the youth could recover and give chase. Pip turned to make his escape, but the youth was faster than he’d anticipated, somehow got in front of him, and drew Pip’s flight to a swift end at the point of a sword.

“Unhand her, you villain!” the youth cried, brandishing his weapon threateningly.

Pip searched desperately about him, seeking something,
anything,
he might use as a weapon. But in his distraction, he grossly underestimated the creature in his grasp. In an uncommon show of strength and bravery, the girl thrashed mightily, landing a blow to his groin that sent Pip gasping to his knees. He released his hold on the chit immediately and cradled his ballocks protectively, letting out a breathless groan as white-hot pain shot through him.

“Ha, ha! Take that, you varlet!” the youth cried, and the girl at his side giggled merrily at Pip’s expense.

The youth still held his sword, but after a few moments in which Pip could only gasp and grimace, the blade wavered uncertainly in the air.

“Pip? Are you truly injured?” Peter asked.

Joanna stopped giggling and hurried to Pip’s prone form. She crouched next to him and put her tiny hand on his face. “I didn’t really hurt you, did I, Pip?” she asked, twisting her other hand in her skirts anxiously.

Peter, his eyes wide with concern, set his wooden sword on the table behind him and knelt on Pip’s other side.

The pain had mostly faded, and Pip had enough pride he wouldn’t dare admit a girl of barely seven had laid him low. Instead of proclaiming his injury and calling a halt to their game, Pip chose to ignore the ache in his nether parts as he reached for a bit of bravado.

“Of course not. Ha, ha! Ye’ve fallen for me treachery, and now ye are both in me clutches! Rawr!” Pip wrapped an arm around each child and pulled them to his chest, growling and pretending to nip at their necks. Delighted squeals and giggles echoed around the kitchen as they halfheartedly struggled to break free.

“Ye’ll bring the house down with all that carryin’ on,” Maud admonished them as she stepped into the kitchen from the garden, bringing an abrupt end to their game. “Aren’t the two o’ ye s’posed to be at lessons with the rest o’ the children?”

Peter and Joanna immediately clambered to their feet, and both children looked guiltily at the floor. Joanna paid particular attention to straightening her skirts while Peter chewed his lower lip and kicked his boot against the stone a few times. Maud stood with her hands on her ample hips and a severe frown on her lined face, but her warm brown eyes twinkled with laughter.

As he too climbed to his feet, Pip couldn’t help the cheeky grin that split his face. “’Tis my fault, madam. Villain that I am, I whisked them away, all unwillin’.”

Maud pursed her lips, fighting the smile that threatened to ruin her air of disapproval. But eventually the smile won out, and she snorted. “Get along with ye now. Ye two terrors go to yer lessons,” she said, pointing to the children. “And
you
stay here. I want to talk to ye.”

Joanna and Peter looked at him mournfully for a few moments. Then Peter took Joanna’s hand and led her from the room.

Pip watched them go with a fond smile before replacing it with his usual cocksure grin as he turned back to Maud. He plopped his arse on one of the wooden kitchen chairs and kicked his feet up to rest on the edge of the worn table. “An’ what can a miserable sinner like meself do for ’is beloved Maud this fine day?”

Maud snorted again and bustled over to the kitchen fires to stir whatever bubbled in the large black pot before setting the ladle aside and joining him by the table. She fussed with her starched white cap, smoothing the few silver hairs brave enough to escape the tight chignon at the back of her head. When she looked at him again, her indulgent smile was gone. She took a deep breath and let it out before she reached into her apron and produced a slip of parchment.

“A letter came today,” she said with a hint of sadness, and Pip’s grin slipped. “I’ve ’eard from Mrs. Applethwaite, ’ousekeeper of Greer Cottage in Keswick. She’s accepted the reference we gave ’er and offered ye the position of groom and sometime man-of-all-work for ’er master, Major Astley McNalty.”

Pip rolled his eyes as relief flooded his chest. “Ye’d think it were bad news by the gray clouds over yer ’ead,” he said with all the cheekiness he could muster. “Keswick’s naught but twenty mile away. I’ll come back to see ye as often as I can.”

The look she gave him was sad but resigned at first… until he said that last bit. At which point she rolled her own eyes at him and harrumphed. “If yer last five positions are anythin’ to go by, ye’ll be back afore Christmas,” she muttered, as she reached out and cuffed him lightly on the ear.

Pip flinched away and had the grace to look sheepish. He wasn’t solely to blame for being dismissed from so many places. If more of the country’s men knew how to keep their sisters, daughters, and wives happy and satisfied, they wouldn’t be so keen to avail themselves of Pip’s charms. And angry brothers, fathers, and husbands wouldn’t feel so damned determined to chase him out of their villages. “I’ll be good this time, love. Ye ’ave me word of honor.”

Instead of rolling her eyes again and fighting a smile as he expected, Maud simply continued to watch him with sad and concerned eyes until Pip shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

“I still don’t understand why ye ’ave to go at all,” she said. “Yer family’s ’ere. Ye’ll not find better masters anywhere than Mr. Carey and Mr. Carruthers. The children love ye.” She paced away and then back again as she ranted. “And if ye ’ave to leave, ye should at least be tryin’ for a position as a clerk or secretary or summat more’n a laborer. Ye can read and write and do figures as well, if not better than, that nervous mouse of a tutor the masters ’ired to teach the rest of us. Ye’r wastin’ yerself as a common workman, and ye know it.”

“Now, Maud, ye know I’d dry up and blow away sittin’ ’unched over a desk, with ink stains on me fingers and me eyes gone all squinched up. And who’d ’ire me to work in their office at any rate, rough as I am?”

“Ye can ape the gents better’n anybody, if ye set yer mind to it. Ye’re just too stubborn to try. An’ the masters’d send ye back fer more schoolin’ if ye ever asked for it… or stayed around long enough t’ see it through.” She reached out, but instead of giving him another cuff as he half expected, she drew one of Pip’s hands between her warm, calloused palms. “Why must ye be so restless, little lamb?”

Pip gazed up into the soft brown eyes of the woman who’d looked after him like her own son for almost as long as he could remember, and his throat closed on his impudent reply. He didn’t have an answer for her, and he couldn’t bring himself to cloak his confusion with a pretty lie. She was right. He had everything at the Carruthers farm that he could ever hope to ask for. But he still couldn’t bear the thought of staying there any more than a few months at a time.

For the last three years, he’d convinced himself that he simply had a restless spirit. He’d grown up in the tumult and fracas of London’s rookeries. And though he looked back on that time with bitterness and loathing, he would not have been shocked to find the quiet of the country chafed. But of late, Pip had begun to think that had nothing at all to do with it. He loved the country, the clean air and the open spaces. He had no desire to ever return to London, not for anything. And yet, he still couldn’t bring himself to settle in Penrith, or to settle anywhere for that matter. He didn’t have any real dreams or ambitions for his future. He was happy working out of doors, tending animals, and fetching and carrying for the houses he worked for. He just couldn’t see himself doing it at any one house for long.