The Earl's Mission: Defiant Brides Book 4 Page 3

  “Don’t you worry none,” her father said. “I’ll figure something out and have his payment ready.”

  “I know you will,” Rachel replied. Then she turned to leave the office, knowing both had spoken nothing but lies.

  Chapter Three

  Joseph rode four days, stopping at various inns along the way to Falmouth in Cornwall. He had arrived three hours ago, his last day of travel consisting of wind and rain that left him cold and tired. But after a hot bath, food in his stomach and now dry clothes, he found himself in a seat in the common room of the inn in which he had taken a room. Though it was not to his normal standards, the company was pleasant enough, including the barman, who had a ready laugh and an affable demeanor. However, one thing Joseph noticed was, the closer he got to Falmouth, the further away he became from Exeter and true civility. The ruggedness of western Cornwall might hold a majestic beauty with its grand cliffs and rocky hills, but Joseph would take the rolling hills of Devon and the closeness to the busy city life of Exeter over this wildness any day of the week. Even the much slower pace of Kellington was much more appealing.

  “Then my wife says the rain’s been a curse,” the heavyset barman was saying. He had little room in which to move behind the counter where Joseph would have had more than enough room to move about without once touching the items around him. “Silly woman, in my mind. I told her it’s just the way it is. You watch. Give it another week, then people’ll worry when it doesn't rain.”

  “You are right,” Joseph said absently in an attempt to not be rude. His mind continued to return to the woman for whom he had come all this way and wondering what she would be doing this evening. Was she at a stately ball? Perhaps she was already married and she and her husband were enjoying a quiet dinner together. Whatever it was she was doing, however she was spending her time, Joseph was certain he would find her with relative quickness, or so he hoped, for he had all too much to do back home. More than once over the past four days he had wished Richard had not made him promise to accept this mission. However, it had been made, and he was here, so why not make the best of it?

  It had been two months since Richard died. After attending a preliminary reading of the will not even a week ago, Joseph was left stunned. Richard had been kind in allowing Joseph a hefty allowance for managing his assets and looking after his daughter, a task that should be simple enough, especially if she was not yet wed. She would have her own allowance, leaving him to simply check on her as he saw fit as he worked to maintain her inheritance. And what an inheritance she would receive. The allowance itself was more than generous for a woman of her standing; it was more than enough for a woman in any noble house. However, it was what Richard wished and Joseph had no say in the matter.

  Joseph took another sip of his brandy, glad the barman had moved on to another patron down the way. He thought again about this woman he needed to find. With her background and upbringing, she would more than likely be married to a man of considerable means and Joseph would not be needed, thus leaving him with no need to take control over the estate. However, if she was not…. Well, there were certainly other ways in which to help her. A smile played on his lips as the barman set another drink in front of Joseph, who gave him a nod.

  Without thinking about what he was doing, Joseph reached a hand into his inside pocket, as he had done many times over the course of this journey. If she was not spoken for, nor married, she could become his bride, he mused silently. Then the money, the lands, all of it would be his, and he would finally be able to boast to those of higher title. If his father, the previous Earl of Brunsford, had not been so liberal with the family fortune during his days of playing cards and placing bets in the various gambling halls, Joseph would have had a better standing financially with his peers. Of course, the ton did not know of the dwindled funds the family had endured before his father’s death, but plenty of rumors had made their rounds. Thankfully, those rumors had never been completely substantiated, and Joseph had done everything he could to disavow those truths.

  The thought of those men who spoke down to him still angered him, and it was not until he almost broke the glass in his hand that he realized how much. Yes, this Miss Rachel—he wished a surname would have accompanied her given name; it would have been much more helpful—could very well be the key to his standing in titled society. Furthermore, if she was as beautiful as Richard had described the mother, it would only be the gem in the crown.

  “Here you go, My Lord,” the barman said, breaking Joseph from his thoughts as he set yet another brandy on the counter before him. It was the third since his arrival, and Joseph found the journey, compounded with the drink, had left him more exhausted then he had expected.

  “Tell me,” Joseph said as he pushed the empty glass toward the barman and grabbed the new, “what is it like living here?”

  Moving a hand through the wisps of his blond hair, the barman appeared deep in thought. It was not too difficult a question and Joseph wondered if the man had any wits about him at all. “It’s quite nice, I suppose,” he said finally. “It’s even nicer when a gentleman such as yerself visits, which is rare.” Joseph ignored the man’s clear attempt at flattery. “Mostly we get ruffians and the like here.”

  Joseph frowned. The man seemed to have misunderstood his question. “I see,” he replied. “And Falmouth? Is there not a place where people of…means drink with each other?”

  The barman seemed reluctant to answer, and Joseph understood why. If he were to share such information, chances were that the man would lose Joseph’s custom. However, after several grueling moments, he replied. “Well, there’s a fancier place down the road, The Queen’s Stead. They sometimes get gentlemen such as yerself there, but most tend to keep to themselves around these parts. I hear there are fancy parties from time to time, but I wouldn’t know much about them.” The man wore a smile, but it did little to hide the concern on his face.

  “Not to worry, my good man,” Joseph said as he pushed his now empty glass forward. “I’ll take one more for good measure.”

  Relief washed over the man’s face and Joseph could not help but smile. He understood the concern for losing business; it had happened to him too many times to count. However, if he this was what it took to find his query, if he had to spend coin at such an establishment, the amount he could get in return would be substantial. This thought brought him back to the task at hand.

  “I am searching for a woman, a lady to be sure. However, I know not her surname. Her given name is Rachel. She may or may not be married, but I imagine she is a woman of elegance and beauty.” He knew it was a long shot, but it was all he had to go on.

  Muttering to himself, the barman frowned deeply. Then, when Joseph thought all was lost, the man beamed, his eyes widening. “You know, I do know a Rachel who’s a lady.”

  “Excellent,” Joseph replied. “What can you tell me about this Rachel you know?” Rachel was not an all uncommon name and he hoped he would not be wasting time chasing after every Rachel in the area. However, how wonderful would it be if, on his first night in the area, he found the woman he had come to find?

  “Well, my brother’s tended her gardens for years now. I always knew her as Missus Rachel Gouldsmith. Peter, that would be me brother, says she’s a regal woman.”

  Joseph nodded, silently willing the man to be on with his explanation of her.

  The barman shook his head sadly. “Too bad she’s a widow. Peter says the man was kind and Missus Gouldsmith’s still grieving after him.”

  “Widow?” Joseph asked with suspicion. “How old is this woman?”

  “Oh, I’d guess easily into her seventies by now,” the barman said. Then he raised his eyebrows. “Oh, I guess that wouldn’t be her.”

  Joseph groaned inwardly. “Thank you for your help nonetheless,” he said aloud as he tossed the man an extra coin. He then finished off the last of his brandy and went to stand. The drink was having its effect as he found his legs a bit unsteady. “The
woman for whom I search would be around the age of twenty, perhaps even twenty-one, but nowhere near seventy.” What Joseph had thought as good luck was now fading away with the day. Finding this woman was going to prove to be a bit more difficult than he first thought. However, as he considered it, he almost laughed. A young woman named Rachel; that was all the information he had. What had he been thinking? That this would be a simple task to find a young lady with the name of Rachel and no other information? The idea was ludicrous.

  “Twenty you say?” the barman asked as he tapped his chin. “Rachel at the Rooster’s Crow is about that age. Do you think it could be her?”

  Joseph gave him a weak smile. “I am afraid not,” he replied. “She would be a lady of some means, perhaps even a lady of nobility, or at least of the gentry. I doubt very highly she would be working at a pub. But I do appreciate your help.”

  “Too bad,” the barman said as he scooped up the coins. “She’s quite the beauty. Has the deepest blue eyes you’ve ever seen they’re almost purple.” He shook his head in wonder and the gave a snort. “But class? Grace? Rachel’s likely to punch you before she’d give you even the slightest bob of a curtsy.”

  Joseph stared at the man. How many women could be said to possess eyes the color of which this man described? Could it be possible the woman for which he searched was not what he expected? The chances seemed unlikely, but something gnawed at him that he should speak to this woman at least.

  “Where is this pub?” he asked.

  “Out the front door and then about four doors down across the street on yer left. Her mother works there, too, if that helps any.”

  After thanking the man with another copper coin, Joseph decided he would go straight to the Rooster’s Crow and see this Rachel the barman mentioned. It was one thing if the daughter was beautiful, but if the mother was as perfect as Richard had described her, Joseph knew he had found the one he sought.

  ***

  Joseph stepped into the pub and was instantly mortified at his surroundings. The place, though clean, was empty, and even the lit fireplace in the back had not a single guest to keep warm. The tables, chairs, and even the windows looked to be old and worn. For a moment, he wondered if the place had closed down for the evening, but then a heavyset woman came walking up to the bar, seeming to ignore him. Though he was certain that he would not find Miss Rachel in such an establishment, he walked up to inquire nonetheless.

  The woman looked him up and down. “What can I get you, My Lord?” she asked with a friendly smile.

  “I’m looking for a woman named Rachel,” Joseph replied. “I was told she is employed here. Do you know her?”

  The woman shook her head and then let out a heavy sigh. “What do you want with her?” The friendly smile was now gone, replaced by a stern glower.

  Joseph was not used to anyone giving him such treatment, but he reminded himself that the woman did not know he was an Earl. If she had known, she would have tripped over her own feet to see to his needs. “What I want with this woman is my business and not yours. Now, is she here or not?”

  The woman’s eyes narrowed to such a degree, Joseph wondered if she could see through the slits they left. “Now, you listen here. I keep an eye on my daughter, especially from your types.”

  “Your daughter?” Joseph asked in surprise. This woman could not have been the woman who had won the heart of a man such as Richard Templeton, even if she had changed considerably over the years. Or was she the one? Her hair was mostly white, though it showed bits of dark underneath. Her eyes were blue, but not the deep blue that had been described to him; they were more gray than blue. No, this had to be just a horrible coincidence.

  “Yes, my daughter,” the woman said firmly. “You know, you gentlemen are all alike coming in and wanting to woo her away. Well, she’s smarter than all you put together, my Rachel, and she’ll not fall for any of your tricks.” She crossed her arms under her ample bosom and glared at him with such intensity, he wondered why he had not melted on the spot.

  “I must have been mistaken,” Joseph replied. “I do not believe your Rachel is the one I seek. But tell me, do you know where I would find a woman of great beauty, one who resembles her mother completely with violet blue eyes? She would be of class, well-mannered, and brought up in the most proper of ways.”

  The woman’s arms dropped to her sides and Joseph realized his words more than likely came across as rude and outright insulting.

  However, rather than berate him on his tactless behavior, she let out a heavy sigh. “I wondered if he’d send someone someday,” she said, a sad shake to her head.

  “Who?”

  “Her father, that’s who. Was the man who sent you looking for a woman who he knew some twenty years ago? A rich merchant?” Joseph hesitated for a moment and then nodded. The woman sighed again. “Here, let me get you a drink and we’ll have a seat at one of the tables.”

  She poured him a measure of some sort of liquor without asking what he would like and then came around the counter to sit at a table in the back corner. Joseph followed her over and took the chair across from her. “I’m Mildred, and my husband George and I own this pub.” Her look around the place held a sadness to it that Joseph did not understand, but he said nothing. “Some fifteen years ago, a woman fell in love with a rich man, and I don’t know how, but she hadn’t told the man about her daughter. When he asked for her hand, she realized she needed to rid herself of the girl. My husband George and I never had our own children, so we readily took her into our home and treated her as our own. She knows we’re not her real parents, we never kept that from her. How could we? She was five years of age and knew more or less what was happening to her.”

  Joseph nodded encouragement. Though the woman’s story sounded more a tale, it had a ring of truth to it.

  “I imagine you’ve come from Devon?” Mildred asked, though it was clear she already knew the answer.

  “I have,” he replied. “I have ridden four days and only arrived a few hours ago. Tell me, is your daughter…”

  A woman entered the room through a door that led to the back of the pub and Joseph sat and stared at her. She was unlike any woman he had ever encountered, with hair as dark as midnight and eyes the bluest of blues. Though the dress she wore was made of a common fabric with a simple style, she made it appear as if it came from the finest shop in London. She had stopped to stare at Joseph and her mother before walking over to stand next to the table where they sat. Joseph gave her a wide smile, but she did not return it. Instead, she turned to her mother.

  “Father wishes to speak with you,” she said before sending another quick glance toward Joseph.

  Joseph could not take his eyes off the young woman. She did not speak like the woman who sat across from him, and though it was not cultured, her voice had a lilt to it that spoke of some sort of training at some point in her life.

  As he continued to stare, she narrowed her eyes at him, not unlike the woman who called herself her mother had when he had first arrived. “Do you want another drink or do you plan on staring at me all night?” Her eyes were as fierce as her words, causing Joseph to smile. He had never seen a woman so beautiful and yet so bold. If she was anything like her real mother, it was no wonder Richard had been taken with her.

  “Brandy, please,” Joseph replied.

  The woman’s mother pulled herself from the chair. “I’d best be heading back. You behave yourself now.” She gave Joseph a meaningful stare and he could not miss the threat behind the words.

  Miss Rachel had gone to pour the drink and Joseph watched her as she worked. He could not believe how striking she was. She wore no ring on her finger and he doubted she had been spoken for or her mother would have mentioned it immediately. The idea of marrying her came to mind once again. Her beauty would negate any worries about marrying one of a lower class. As for her mannerisms, what she lacked could easily be taught. At least her speech would not be too much of an issue.

  Th
oughts of how to win her over attempted to weasel their way into his mind, but he pushed them aside. He would have time later for planning. First, he had to get the woman to return with him to Kellington. Perhaps once she realized what she would be receiving in return would be enough to convince her.

  Mildred returned from wherever it was she had gone and stared down at him. Miss Rachel had made her way back to the bar to do whatever it was that barkeeps did and gave him not a single glance once she had served his brandy.

  “Listen here,” Mildred said in a low voice. “I don’t know what you want from her exactly, but you be nice to her. No fancy promises to get her into yer bed, if that’s what yer after. I respect the fact you’re a gentleman, but I’ll have you know that I won’t put up with any bad behavior.”

  “You have my word,” Joseph said. “Not a single strand of hair on her head will be harmed.”

  The woman studied him for a moment longer and then gave a single nod. “I’ll send her over.” Her voice softened. “Whatever you want to tell her, just be gentle. It’ll be a lot for her to take.”

  Joseph nodded and downed the rest of his brandy. He was not certain where to begin, but he would not allow his exhaustion to cause him to stumble over his words.

  Mildred walked over and whispered something to Miss Rachel that Joseph could not hear. The girl looked around Mildred and stared in Joseph’s direction. Then she walked over to his table and stared down at him. “Whatever you have to say, say it quickly. We’ll be closing soon.”

  Joseph gave her a quick smile and gestured to the chair Mildred had vacated earlier. She gave him a look of suspicion but sat nonetheless, wearing a glare of clear defiance as she crossed her arms under her bosom, just as her mother had. She was a tough one, far from the lady he thought she would be, but his eyes soaked in her beauty regardless. The idea of convincing this young woman to marry him and having her in his bed pushed to the forefront of his mind. It would not be too difficult given her upbringing. Then there was the fact that she was beautiful enough for ten women that urged him on. However, first he would have to calm the quick beating of his heart and the exasperating need to smile.