A Regency Courtesan's Pride. Ann Lethbridge
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Merry bit her lip. ‘Someone put those men up to it.’ She looked at Charlie. ‘And now—’
‘Someone tampered with Miss Draycott’s carriage on her way back from her meeting with you and the other mill owners. She was lucky she wasn’t killed.’
Broadoaks lunged forwards, his beard stiff with indignation. ‘Now wait a minute, your lordship. I won’t say I like the idea of a flock of whores setting up shop in the middle of town as bold as brass, but it ain’t a matter to kill someone over. Nor did I have owt to do with t’fire. Were some of the lads from the Muddy Duck got fired up about t’women taking their work.’
‘They are not whores,’ Merry said. ‘Not any more. How will they ever get free of that life unless someone gives them a chance?’
‘Hmmph,’ Benjamin Broadoaks replied. ‘'Tis same old argument. We don’t want them here.’
‘Not quite the same,’ Charlie said, before Merry could speak again.
Broadoaks eyed him warily. ‘Now, young fellow, surely you see the right of this. Miss Draycott here has a soft heart, but we are men of the world. We know—’
‘The Durn estate will pay for the rebuilding of the house. The asylum will be named for the duchess. I will act as her agent in this matter and Miss Draycott will head up the Board of Directors.’
Merry’s look of gratitude was like a knife to the gut, because it was a bloody lie. He wanted to throttle her. He flashed her a charming smile. ‘That is all you want, isn’t it, my dear? ‘
From the way her face stiffened, he was pretty sure she heard the sarcasm in his voice.
Broadoaks didn’t seem to notice. He sank back in his chair with the look of a man about to be hung. ‘That puts the cat in with the pigeons.’
‘You have a problem with the plan, Mr Broadoaks?’ he asked quietly.
The old gentleman fought through his beard to tug at his shirt collar. ‘No, my lord. The wives won’t be best pleased, I’ll admit to that, but they’ll come round once they know a Mountford’s behind it.’
His father would know nothing of the matter. Or at least he wouldn’t have known, if Merry wasn’t related to the Purtefoys. Now Charlie wasn’t quite so sure if he could bring this off without the betrothal becoming common knowledge. He’d been well and truly caught. Just as Robert had. An ironic smile formed on his lips. ‘Good.’
‘How is Mrs Broadoaks?’ Merry asked a little breathlessly. Fearing his wrath now she’d been found out, no doubt. ‘Well, I hope?’
Broadoaks’s eyes twinkled a little. ‘My missus doesn’t change, Miss Draycott, but she is well, thank you for asking.’
Merry grinned.
Charlie glared at her and then at Broadoaks. ‘I still want to know who is behind the threat to Miss Draycott’s life.’
The old man closed his eyes briefly. ‘I know nowt about it. Nor do any of the other owners, I’d vouch my life on it. Aye, no good looking down your nose at me, my lord. Why would we be involved? We had her set to rights. No. You look elsewhere. I’ve not heard any gossip neither.’ He looked at Merry. ‘Only you know who might want thee feeding t’worms.’
Right now Charlie wanted to do a bit of worm feeding himself. ‘Who would know?’
‘Beyond me, my lord.’ He shook his head. ‘I’d try talking to the innkeeper at t’Muddy Duck. He might know what set them off.’
‘The Muddy Duck is in the Skepton Town Square,’ Merry said.
‘Not a place for a woman,’ Broadoaks said heavily. ‘You know, lass,’ Broadoaks went on, ‘if you’d put that house of yours on t’other side of town, people might not have been so fratched by the idea.’
Apparently, Merry didn’t care who she angered, as long as she got her own way. Damn her. ‘Do you have a suggestion, Mr Broadoaks?’
Merry gasped. Charlie shot her a warning glance.
She pressed her lips together. At least sometimes she showed a little sense, because he was in no mood to tolerate an argument.
The elderly gentleman pulled a large handkerchief from his pocket and mopped at his brow. ‘There is a house, a small one, over on west side of town. Regular folks live there. It would do for two or three women.’
‘To keep the numbers down,’ Merry said with a marshal light in her eyes.
‘Within reason, I’d say,’ Broadoaks said.
‘I—’
‘We will think about it, Mr Broadoaks,’ Charlie said. He smiled at Merry. ‘Won’t we, my dear? Advice is always appreciated.’
‘Well—’
‘We won’t take up more of your valuable time, Mr Broadoaks. I believe I have business at the Muddy Duck.’
Broadoaks rose to his feet. ‘Tell t’innkeeper I said for him to tell you all he knows.’
In those few words, the old man had admitted Charlie to the inner sanctum. The local gentlemen’s club. He knew it from the chagrin on Merry’s face. He shook hands with the fellow. ‘It has been a great pleasure, sir. I hope we meet again soon.’
‘Ah, and good luck to you, my lord.’ He darted a glance at Merry. ‘Needs a strong hand on the bridle, a woman like her do.’
So she might, but that hand wasn’t going to be Charlie’s. Finally he’d seen right through the scheming little wench and he felt more than a little foolish. Not to mention angry.
He ushered her out of the office and down the steps.
She turned to him. ‘I—’
He grabbed her by the arm and pulled her along, not hard enough that anyone would notice, but firmly enough so that she knew he meant business. ‘We will talk in the carriage.’
Several times in the past few days, Merry’s escort had looked less than pleased. Now he’d withdrawn into a cool remoteness that put the distance of miles between them.
The distance of a duke-to-be from a lesser mortal. She had no trouble recognising it, since she’d seen the same kind of look on her fellow students’ faces at school when she was intemperate or bold enough to express her opinions or join their conversations. The reason she’d sought solace with Jeremy.
She lifted her chin as she’d done in those long-ago days. ‘What bee’s bustling in tha’s bonnet then, lad?’
‘Oh, for God’s sake, you don’t think I’m fooled by that rubbishy accent, do you?’
She stiffened. ‘There is nothing wrong with the way I speak.’
‘Isn’t there? Perhaps the names of