What's a Rogue Got To Do With It (Rogues of Redmere Book 4)
Page 2
The Earl of Redmere strode straight over to him, removing his hat and shoving it under his arm. His gaze ran over Knight’s sodden and unclothed state.
“Put some damned clothes on, Knight. I have news.”
Chapter Two
Louisa shoved a loose strand of hair from her face and gave herself a mental shake. She’d seen men in various states of undress over the years—such came with the territory of being an innkeeper. It was not as though she had never seen a half-naked man before.
Knight strode over to the fireplace and snatched up his still sodden shirt, expression sour. Swallowing, Louisa grabbed a cloth and scrubbed furiously at a stain that had been etched into the bar long before she even married her late husband. No amount of scrubbing would remove it. But it was better than the alternative.
Staring at Knight.
She lifted her gaze and regretted it instantly. Heat flowed into her cheeks. She swung her gaze down again and concentrated on the circular stain. He was just a man. She dealt with them every day. Men of all varieties frequented her inn. Some were travelling through, some were locals. The customs men even drank here, and she’d played host to a few noble folk thanks to her private dining room and clean standards. The Ship Inn was no luxury accommodation and wherever there was alcohol, there was trouble, but she did her best with what she had to run a reputable place.
Knight and the Earl of Redmere both counted as nobles, but it was hard to think of either of them that way. She’d always known Red was above her station, but he never treated her as such, and thanks to her helping him out, hiding the occasional loot and warning them when customs men were about, they’d formed a beneficial friendship. In return for her aid, he kept her supplied with generous amounts of wine and anything else she might need.
As for Knight...well, it was still hard to believe he was a viscount. She had known little of him before his sister started working at the inn. On the run from her father and a vicious fiancé, Julianna had hidden out here and fallen in love with Drake, the captain of Red’s ship. Thanks to Julianna, Louisa now knew a little more about Knight.
But only a little.
The great brute of a man remained as mysterious as he could. Even Julianna could not tell her much about the time between when Knight had been disowned by his father and his arrival in Cornwall. Lewis Knight had arrived in a flurry of fists with new scars across his face. That should have been all she needed to know about the man.
And yet...
She forced her gaze down while Knight fought to pull his soaked shirt over his head with a grumble.
Yet she could not help watching him. And wondering. How did he get all of those scars? There were several across his back—great big slashes and a handful of smaller ones to match the jagged one that cut across his eyebrow and the one beneath his lip. Another curved slightly across his chin. The one on his lip and eyebrow were instantly noticeable, both pale against his tanned skin. The one on his chin, however, was only obvious if a person studied him carefully. She was ashamed to admit that she had, far too many times.
The front door crashed open, and Louisa straightened. Few people visited the inn at this hour unless they had been travelling late. She’d already worked all day but one of her serving girls had fallen ill and Julianna was looking a little ashen so she had sent her to bed. When her husband sailed, Julianna stayed at the inn, declaring it far better than staying in their newly decorated, rather large house on the outskirts of the village alone.
So with no help, she’d rather hoped it would be a quiet night. By the looks of the four men, however, it did not appear her hopes would come true. They staggered in, crashing into one another and cutting an awkward path to the bar. One clutched what appeared to be an empty bottle. The fine cut of their clothing indicated they were visitors to the area with a little coin to spend.
Louisa drew up her shoulders and forced a cautious smile. So long as they behaved themselves, she was happy to take their coin. “What can I get you gentlemen?”
A lascivious smile curved the lips of the tallest man. He removed his hat and dropped it unceremoniously onto the bar. Beneath curly dark hair was a chiseled face that could put even the earl to shame. Eyes framed by generous lashes traveled over her person, making her skin prick. She kept her expression neutral.
“A little company would be nice,” he drawled, his words softened by the alcohol that washed over her on his pungent breath.
The men with him snickered, and Louisa’s smile dropped. “I serve alcohol and food only, gentlemen. If you seek company, I suggest you go into the village. If you’re patient, the kitchen will be open in a few hours.”
The tall man’s gaze tracked over her once more, lingering on her chest. Though dressed modestly, there had never been any disguising her curves that too often got her into trouble. When she had first married and started working at the inn as a young woman, she’d been shocked by how her figure appealed to men. It was rare anyone made a comment these days, though. Most of her patrons respected her, and if they did not, they feared being cut off or barred.
The man leaned over the bar, both elbows resting on the wood. A light, clean scent broke through the air, slicing through the fragrances of hops and sea salt. It was quickly doused by the sour odor of alcohol as he smiled widely at her.
“I could make it worth your time.” He reached for her.
Louisa stepped out of his reach and folded her arms. “You will not find what you are looking for here.” She motioned to the door. “I think you should leave.”
The man’s expression darkened. His friends straightened. Louisa drew in a long breath and eyed the man coldly. He was not the first disrespectful man she had ever dealt with, but she really did not have the energy for a battle tonight.
The visitor glanced at his friends, and she saw his courage increase. For whatever reason, the man intended to make a show to his companions and her refusal of him had not helped matters. He moved around the bar quickly, forcing Louisa to back up against the corner of it. She held out both hands, and her palms met his chest but could not hold him back. He slammed himself up against her, jamming her back to the bar. A cry escaped her as the hard wood slammed into her spine.
“No one—” His words were cut off in a strangled cry as his body seemed to lift into the air, flew over the bar, and crashed onto a table with such force that the legs gave way and the whole piece of furniture crumbled to the floor.
Louisa blinked at Knight, not quite able to move. He stepped over to the man, towering way above him, and folded his arms. Red remained by the bar, utterly at ease. And why would he not be? Knight could take on all four of the men alone if he needed to.
“The lady said leave,” Knight growled.
Louisa peeled herself away from the bar and brushed her hands down her apron. Her heart pressed hard against her breast bone, and she willed it to slow.
The man’s companions eyed Knight, their gazes scanning his huge height, and as a group, hustled toward the door with little care for their fallen friend.
The tall man dragged himself from the floor with a groan and sent a scowl her way. “You’ll—”
Knight snatched him by his collar before he could finish his sentence. “Leave,” was all Knight said before flinging him out of the entrance and slamming the door shut behind all four men.
He edged over to the bar, and his gaze met hers cautiously. “Are you well?”
She sucked in a breath and nodded. “It was a fine job you were here.”
“It was.”
She peered at Red, who seemed to be suppressing a laugh. “What?”
Red grinned. “You forget I have seen you handle many a drunkard by the ear. Or by the balls when needs be.”
“I had no desire to handle his balls.” Louisa shuddered. For some reason, that man had truly frightened her. Probably because he was not just some silly drunk. He’d come here with a purpose and arrogance governed his behavior rather than alcohol.
“You sh
ould hire some protection,” Knight muttered. “No job for a woman.”
Louisa turned her attention fully to him and placed her hands to her hips. “Pardon?”
Knight’s face reddened slightly. “I just mean—”
She lifted both brows. “I suppose I should go and work as a governess or something feminine like that.”
Creases marred his forehead. “That’s not what—”
“Louisa, can we use the private dining room? I have business I need to discuss with Knight,” Red interrupted smoothly.
“Of course.” She tilted her head and eyed Red. “Does Hannah know you are out at this hour?”
Red smiled. “Naturally. Do I ever do anything without my wife’s say so these days?”
Louisa let her lips curve. The headstrong and intelligent woman had certainly done an outstanding job of taming the stubborn earl. Now that they were expecting their first baby, Red had become an even more dedicated husband—if that was possible.
“Be sure to tell her I’m thinking of her in her confinement.”
Red grimaced. “The sooner she is out of confinement, the better. I have had to invest in several hundred new books just to keep her occupied.” He indicated to the private dining room. “Shall we?”
Knight grunted and followed Red. Louisa could not help eye those wide shoulders and the confident gait of Knight. She should not be watching him. Should certainly not be wondering about him. He made it clear that whatever had happened in his past—and even in his present—would remain secret. What was worse was she’d leapt from thinking about Red and Hannah’s wonderful marriage to Knight’s broad shoulders.
She shook her head to herself. Her marriage had been fine. One of practicality more than anything. She’d been an unexpected child to older parents of little wealth. Once they passed on, she would have had nothing. So when Jack offered for her hand, it seemed prudent to accept. She’d respected him as a man, and he had taught her everything she knew about running an inn, but there had been no passionate love between them.
A sigh escaped her, and she wished she could force it back in. It seemed as though everyone was getting married. Three men out of Red’s main group were now wed. That only left Knight.
He would never marry, though, she was certain of that much. He didn’t spend time with women—barely even acknowledged their existence. Heck, he hardly talked with those she considered his friends. Whether he thought of them as such, she did not know.
“You like him.”
Louisa whirled. Julianna stood in the doorway leading from the accommodation to the bar. “Of course I don’t,” she protested. “I mean...” She trailed off, remembering with whom she was talking.
Julianna laughed. “I know my brother is not the most likeable of men, but I’m not wrong. I’ve seen you watch him.”
Louisa forced a smile. “I watch everyone who enters my inn.”
Julianna shrugged, her lips tilted. “I think you would work well together.”
She shook her head frantically. “I work well alone.” She cocked her head. “What are you doing up? I told you to go to bed.”
“I slept for a while but it was fitful. I decided I might as well come and aid you.”
Louisa peered at her friend. That slight ashen cast had faded but there was something different about her. She hoped Julianna was not sickening. Since her arrival at Penshallow, she had been a wonderful help and had become a close friend—one of the few Louisa had. She hardly had time for friendships. And she certainly did not have time for relationships. She liked her life as it was. Simple, routine, and productive. Men only complicated life.
Especially a man like Knight. Underneath that brooding exterior had to be complications. She’d wager her inn on that.
Hinges squeaked, and the fire spitting in the grate announced a new arrival. Louisa stiffened. Hopefully those men were not foolish enough to return. She eased her grip on the cloth in her hand when a lone man stepped in. With any luck, they would have no more commotion for the evening.
The newcomer strode over to the bar and offered a genial smile. “Are you by any chance Mrs. Carter?”
“Who wants to know?”
He slipped onto the stool in front of the bar and removed his hat, rifling a hand through his hair. “I’m Ralph Carter.” He chuckled as she blinked at him. “Your stepson.”
Chapter Three
“How did tonight go?” Red dropped onto a chair and leaned back to eye Knight. The earl, dressed casually, but as usual impeccably, affected his typical insouciant air.
Knight shut the door to the dining room behind him. Small but clean and with welcoming flames crackling in the petite fireplace, the private dining room usually played host to noble folk or those with a little extra coin, but the four of them—Red, Nate, Drake and himself—sometimes used it for conversations that should not be overheard.
Knight shrugged and strode over to the fire. His clothes remained uncomfortably plastered against his skin, and he needed a moment to swipe away the image of that bastard touching Louisa. He peered into the dancing flames. That woman was starting to occupy his thoughts far too often.
“Considering your appearance, I take it all did not go smoothly?”
Knight glanced sideways at Red. The earl was the money and the brains behind their operation. When Nate had been unable to join the military thanks to his need for glasses, his older brother had taken it upon himself to ensure Nate could fulfill an element of helping his country. It was an unusual way to help for sure, but it worked for them all. It put Knight’s brawn to effective use and earned good money. For he and Drake, who had both been close to penniless and utterly aimless before meeting Red, it had likely saved their lives.
Not that Knight would ever tell the earl that. The man was arrogant enough as it was.
“I handled it,” muttered Knight.
“And went for a swim?” Red motioned to the chair opposite.
Knight ignored the invite. “Customs men were about tonight. I...incapacitated them.” He turned his attention back to the fire, allowing his focus to soften until the flames became a giant orange blur while he rested one arm against the cold, uneven stone walls of the building. What happened tonight was not a common occurrence. They were usually able to evade the customs men but his clash with them would draw more attention to Penshallow.
There was little else he could have done, however, and Knight could not claim to feel much of anything about the clash. The men were alive and would be sore and likely a little chastened, but he had a job to do just as they did.
With any luck, thanks to the prevalence of smuggling in Cornwall, the undermanned excise troops would not have the ability to increase their presence locally and things could continue as normal.
“Knight.”
Knight turned to face Red. The man motioned to the seat opposite. Reluctantly, he eased himself onto the wooden chair that felt too spindly for his large body. Since he turned fourteen, he’d been too large for everything. Too large for women, too large to be a gentleman, too large for anyone to see him as anything other than a brute.
He huffed to himself. Well, that suited him just fine.
He peered at Red. Though the earl did not always involve himself in the physical work, the man was strong with the elegant looks of someone brought up on money. Red never treated Knight as anything other than a fellow man, even prior to discovering Knight had noble blood in him, but Knight always felt like a beast next to the perfectly polished man. He supposed Red had not always been quite so polished, but marrying had created a calmness about him. Gone were the days of nursing a whisky until the early hours.
Which begged the question, why was Red here at this hour?
Knight eyed the scarred tabletop, running a ragged fingernail down one of the grooves. He was not sure he wanted to know. Whatever it was, it could not be good news. This was why he avoided being anything other than the physical face of things. He loathed sitting and discussing things. If it could not
be solved with his hands, he didn’t want to know.
“All is well,” he assured Red. “No one saw anything but me and none would be able to recognize me.”
Red nodded. “I know you can handle things.” He leaned forward. “But I did not come here to discuss our business arrangements.”
Knight scowled. “What is it?”
Rubbing a hand across his face, Red took a lengthy inhale and met Knight’s gaze. “I received word that your father has passed.”
Knight stared at Red and waited for some kind of emotion to wash over him. A thud of his heart perhaps. The sick feeling in his stomach. None of it came. His father had been a heartless bastard and had beat any feeling out of him long ago. Still, he’d imagined this day and had expected some sort of emotion about it, maybe triumph even. Instead, it had left him cold. It seemed the years in the Army and the time after that had ensured he would never truly feel anything ever again.
Moments passed, the crackle of the fire and the occasional sound of footsteps from the taproom punctuating the silence. Aware of Red watching and waiting for a reaction, Knight stood quickly, the chair screeching in protest against the floor as he pushed it back. He strode back over to the fire and shoved his hands in his pockets.
Red rose from the table and came to stand at Knight’s side. He leaned a shoulder against the wall as though he had all the time in the world.
“After what he did to Julianna, he deserves death,” Knight muttered.
Red made no comment. If he thought the statement unfair, he made no sign of it. As far as Knight was concerned, trying to force his sister into marriage to a man who was known for killing and harming his wives, had been the worst of all his misdeeds. Whatever his father had done to him was inconsequential. He could handle it all. Julianna was an innocent, though, and never deserved to be forced to run from her home and have her life put in danger.
“Does she know yet?” Knight rotated to view Red.
He shook his head. “I was going to leave it to you to tell her.”