the sketch, and the coins jingled loudly. “Did the man happen to say where they were headed?”
She scooped up the silver and dropped it into her apron pocket, eyeing the purse with a twinge of regret. “He didn’t say. But the ostler might know.”
Daniel fished out another shilling and gave it to her.“Thank you all the same. I knew a fine Englishwoman like yourself would be happy to help me and my wife.” Then he actually winked at the older woman.
To Helena’s surprise, the harridan blushed as pink as a schoolgirl. “Oh, go on with you now, Mr. Brennan. It were nothing. You just let me know if you and your wife need anything else for your trip. And I’ll go see if there mightn’t be a bit of pie hiding somewhere in the kitchen after all.”
Helena could hardly contain herself until the woman left. Then she leaned forward and hissed, “What a liar you are! Your poor sainted mother in Sussex indeed!”
“That wasn’t a lie,” he protested genially as he tucked the sketch and miniature back into his waistcoat pocket. “You notice I didn’t say she managed an inn in Sussex. I said I was raised in Sussex, and that’s true. My mother’s name was indeed Molly, though it was Molly Blake, since Da never married her. And she did run her father’s inn, but in Essex, before she met up with my da.” He sighed. “He was a bad influence on her.”
“I should say so. And what about him ? Saying he was a soldier!”
He grinned. “Wild Danny did join up for a stint as a young man. Would you have preferred I’d mentioned his later profession?”
“God forbid. If she thought you were a thieving Irishman before, I can only imagine what she’d say if she knew your father was a highwayman.”
“Y’see, lass, you don’t have to tell everything, though it’s best to stick as close to the truth as possible. I learned that from Griff when he made me masquerade for him. I didn’t fie a bit—I just hid parts of the truth, is all.”
Indeed he had. Daniel Brennan could charm the snakesoff the head of Medusa with winks and grins and half truths. Such a rascal, he was.
He slid his purse into his coat pocket, and it dawned on her that the rascal had also paid for everything. That would not do.
“Daniel, you must let me pay the costs of this trip. It should not be at your expense.”
“It’s not.” He gave her the same quick wink he’d given the innkeeper’s wife. “I plan to charge Griff for every penny.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Will he mind? Paying all this just to make sure Juliet doesn’t…make a fool of herself?”
“Do you think Rosalind would let him mind?”
“I don’t know. They’re married now, and, well…men tend to be tyrannical once they become husbands, no matter how lenient they seemed during the courtship.”
“Oh, they do, do they?” He finished the last of his meal and settled back against the chair. Tapping his fork on the plate with a faint pinging, he regarded her steadily. “Have you got a husband I don’t know about?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how can you know what one acts like?”
She drew her pelisse about her shoulders, the resultant pain in her back making her regret she had to mount a horse again. “One doesn’t need experience to know these things. I do read. And people do marry in Stratford-upon-Avon.”
“Ah, I see. From that, you’ve learnt exactly how every husband acts.” There went that maddening eyebrow again.
“Oh, don’t be so smug,” she grumbled. “You’ve been my ‘husband’ for all of one day, and you’ve already proven quite tyrannical.”
He leaned over the table with a wicked glint in his eyes. “That’s only because I’ve had all the responsibilities of marriage and none of the fun. Now if I had a bit of the good part to soften my temper, so to speak—”
“Not a chance,” she enunciated, but her insides flipped over at the very thought.
“Then I s’pose you’ll just have to get used to
She scooped up the silver and dropped it into her apron pocket, eyeing the purse with a twinge of regret. “He didn’t say. But the ostler might know.”
Daniel fished out another shilling and gave it to her.“Thank you all the same. I knew a fine Englishwoman like yourself would be happy to help me and my wife.” Then he actually winked at the older woman.
To Helena’s surprise, the harridan blushed as pink as a schoolgirl. “Oh, go on with you now, Mr. Brennan. It were nothing. You just let me know if you and your wife need anything else for your trip. And I’ll go see if there mightn’t be a bit of pie hiding somewhere in the kitchen after all.”
Helena could hardly contain herself until the woman left. Then she leaned forward and hissed, “What a liar you are! Your poor sainted mother in Sussex indeed!”
“That wasn’t a lie,” he protested genially as he tucked the sketch and miniature back into his waistcoat pocket. “You notice I didn’t say she managed an inn in Sussex. I said I was raised in Sussex, and that’s true. My mother’s name was indeed Molly, though it was Molly Blake, since Da never married her. And she did run her father’s inn, but in Essex, before she met up with my da.” He sighed. “He was a bad influence on her.”
“I should say so. And what about him ? Saying he was a soldier!”
He grinned. “Wild Danny did join up for a stint as a young man. Would you have preferred I’d mentioned his later profession?”
“God forbid. If she thought you were a thieving Irishman before, I can only imagine what she’d say if she knew your father was a highwayman.”
“Y’see, lass, you don’t have to tell everything, though it’s best to stick as close to the truth as possible. I learned that from Griff when he made me masquerade for him. I didn’t fie a bit—I just hid parts of the truth, is all.”
Indeed he had. Daniel Brennan could charm the snakesoff the head of Medusa with winks and grins and half truths. Such a rascal, he was.
He slid his purse into his coat pocket, and it dawned on her that the rascal had also paid for everything. That would not do.
“Daniel, you must let me pay the costs of this trip. It should not be at your expense.”
“It’s not.” He gave her the same quick wink he’d given the innkeeper’s wife. “I plan to charge Griff for every penny.”
“Oh.” She hadn’t thought of that. “Will he mind? Paying all this just to make sure Juliet doesn’t…make a fool of herself?”
“Do you think Rosalind would let him mind?”
“I don’t know. They’re married now, and, well…men tend to be tyrannical once they become husbands, no matter how lenient they seemed during the courtship.”
“Oh, they do, do they?” He finished the last of his meal and settled back against the chair. Tapping his fork on the plate with a faint pinging, he regarded her steadily. “Have you got a husband I don’t know about?”
“Of course not.”
“Then how can you know what one acts like?”
She drew her pelisse about her shoulders, the resultant pain in her back making her regret she had to mount a horse again. “One doesn’t need experience to know these things. I do read. And people do marry in Stratford-upon-Avon.”
“Ah, I see. From that, you’ve learnt exactly how every husband acts.” There went that maddening eyebrow again.
“Oh, don’t be so smug,” she grumbled. “You’ve been my ‘husband’ for all of one day, and you’ve already proven quite tyrannical.”
He leaned over the table with a wicked glint in his eyes. “That’s only because I’ve had all the responsibilities of marriage and none of the fun. Now if I had a bit of the good part to soften my temper, so to speak—”
“Not a chance,” she enunciated, but her insides flipped over at the very thought.
“Then I s’pose you’ll just have to get used to
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