in case Sheridan investigated the cause of the disturbance. He slunk off into the trees, tearing his best coat as he forced his way through them, and stumbled onto the track that led back to the village.
He pushed his way into the taproom at the Crown and Anchor and ordered a much-needed tankard of ale from Martha. The sight of the buxom beauty partially quelled his anger, and he sent her a flirtatious smile. She served him and turned to her next customer without appearing to notice. It was strange, but all his efforts to impress the girl had fallen flat. Reece might not be rich or titled, but he was blessed with reasonably good looks and cut a fine figure, though he did say so himself. His attempts to attract members of the opposite sex did not usually end in failure, but first Miss Brooke and now a barmaid found him easy to resist.
Heaven forbid he had lost his appeal.
Reece supped his ale, brooding upon the events of the day. It had all started to go wrong when Chesney blithely offered to make jewellery for the duchess and then intimated Reece was his assistant. Up until then, he had been able to stay at the Crown and move about without attracting particular interest. He had put it about he was employed by a merchant looking for new markets for his produce. That was not uncommon and had satisfied the curiosity of those who troubled to ask. He had originally been sent here to force Miss Brooke to return to London. But when her uncle threatened to close his long-standing business, which she would not allow, and go with her, she had flatly refused to do so. Reece’s masters were so pleased with Miss Brooke’s work, they decided to continue running their operation from this most unlikely little village. Reece was obliged to stay in order to keep control of her.
Now the Sheridans knew he was supposed to be Chesney’s assistant. If they also discovered he was lodged at the inn, they would wonder why and how he could afford it. He would have to take a great deal more care about his movements now and perhaps make a few enquiries about marketing his imaginary merchandise. One or another of the Sheridans always seemed to be in the Crown, mixing with the locals as though they actually had something in common with them. Damn it, Reece liked the inn and was very comfortable there. Now he would have to find somewhere else to stay.
Or perhaps not. Reece managed a brief smile as an idea occurred to him. If Sheridan put about the story of Reece being Chesney’s assistant, Reece could claim Chesney was embarrassed about needing his help. He worried what mischief the residents of Compton would make if they knew about his frailty, and made Reece promise not to admit his true purpose for being in the district, thus accounting for his being accommodated at the inn.
Another thought occurred to him as he drained his tankard and banged it on the bar, impatient for a refill. Chesney was not quite the doddering old fool Reece had supposed. He had deliberately agreed to make the duchess’s jewellery to discompose Reece in some way. Reece was quite sure of that now, and the man had succeeded better than he could know since Reece no longer felt in control of the situation in Chesney’s shop. He had not told his master as much, in fear of being dismissed. Or worse. But the fact of the matter was, Chesney and his luscious little niece were getting ideas above their station. Rebellious ideas. Could that be why Crista was being so charming to Lord Amos, hoping to enlist his support? Reece’s blood ran cold at the thought. He had already decided she would not tell her uncle about the incident on the common. Telling Lord Amos would create a damned sight more trouble.
Reece downed his second tankard of ale quickly and stomped up the stairs to his chamber. He needed solitude in which to think matters through, decide how to keep the old man and the girl quiet, and failing that, how best to cover his own back.
***
Stopping to aid Miss Brooke had
He pushed his way into the taproom at the Crown and Anchor and ordered a much-needed tankard of ale from Martha. The sight of the buxom beauty partially quelled his anger, and he sent her a flirtatious smile. She served him and turned to her next customer without appearing to notice. It was strange, but all his efforts to impress the girl had fallen flat. Reece might not be rich or titled, but he was blessed with reasonably good looks and cut a fine figure, though he did say so himself. His attempts to attract members of the opposite sex did not usually end in failure, but first Miss Brooke and now a barmaid found him easy to resist.
Heaven forbid he had lost his appeal.
Reece supped his ale, brooding upon the events of the day. It had all started to go wrong when Chesney blithely offered to make jewellery for the duchess and then intimated Reece was his assistant. Up until then, he had been able to stay at the Crown and move about without attracting particular interest. He had put it about he was employed by a merchant looking for new markets for his produce. That was not uncommon and had satisfied the curiosity of those who troubled to ask. He had originally been sent here to force Miss Brooke to return to London. But when her uncle threatened to close his long-standing business, which she would not allow, and go with her, she had flatly refused to do so. Reece’s masters were so pleased with Miss Brooke’s work, they decided to continue running their operation from this most unlikely little village. Reece was obliged to stay in order to keep control of her.
Now the Sheridans knew he was supposed to be Chesney’s assistant. If they also discovered he was lodged at the inn, they would wonder why and how he could afford it. He would have to take a great deal more care about his movements now and perhaps make a few enquiries about marketing his imaginary merchandise. One or another of the Sheridans always seemed to be in the Crown, mixing with the locals as though they actually had something in common with them. Damn it, Reece liked the inn and was very comfortable there. Now he would have to find somewhere else to stay.
Or perhaps not. Reece managed a brief smile as an idea occurred to him. If Sheridan put about the story of Reece being Chesney’s assistant, Reece could claim Chesney was embarrassed about needing his help. He worried what mischief the residents of Compton would make if they knew about his frailty, and made Reece promise not to admit his true purpose for being in the district, thus accounting for his being accommodated at the inn.
Another thought occurred to him as he drained his tankard and banged it on the bar, impatient for a refill. Chesney was not quite the doddering old fool Reece had supposed. He had deliberately agreed to make the duchess’s jewellery to discompose Reece in some way. Reece was quite sure of that now, and the man had succeeded better than he could know since Reece no longer felt in control of the situation in Chesney’s shop. He had not told his master as much, in fear of being dismissed. Or worse. But the fact of the matter was, Chesney and his luscious little niece were getting ideas above their station. Rebellious ideas. Could that be why Crista was being so charming to Lord Amos, hoping to enlist his support? Reece’s blood ran cold at the thought. He had already decided she would not tell her uncle about the incident on the common. Telling Lord Amos would create a damned sight more trouble.
Reece downed his second tankard of ale quickly and stomped up the stairs to his chamber. He needed solitude in which to think matters through, decide how to keep the old man and the girl quiet, and failing that, how best to cover his own back.
***
Stopping to aid Miss Brooke had
Similar Books
