“How did you find out?” No one knew of Knight’s presence in Cornwall.
“A letter from the estate asking after your sister. I thought after what happened previously, it would be prudent to speak with you before giving out any information.”
Knight nodded. There was no one left to harm his sister after the man who had wanted to marry her tried to kidnap her and was put on trial, but with Knight’s activities, it was safer to keep her whereabouts quiet. He did not want anyone ever using her against him. However, it seemed rumor of her location had spread.
“They are looking for the heir to the title.” Red pulled a letter out from the inside of his jacket and handed it over.
Knight ran a finger over the broken wax seal—the initials of his father stamped into it. Exhaling, he opened the letter and scanned the hastily scrawled contents. Knight shook his head. “All that will be left is an empty house and a penniless title.” He could not keep the bitterness from his voice.
Until his father had disinherited him, he’d indulged grand ideas of being the sort of viscount his father’s estate deserved. But his father had plundered and pillaged their lands to feed his greed, selling off whatever land he could, neglecting tenants’ houses and the farms, and racking up great debts so he could live the sort of lifestyle he thought he deserved.
Now all that was left was debt and a title. Whatever else his father had owned would have been willed on to others, Knight was certain of that. Knight would have to do what he could with the entailed lands to cover the death duties and debts against the estate. Anything that could be sold off would be, and he’d have to find a tenant for the house with haste.
“You should go home. Settle the debts,” Red advised.
“I’d rather die than set foot in that place again,” Knight muttered.
“There’s nothing to do for a while here, and if you do not, they shall come looking for you.”
Knight nodded. He knew he could not avoid returning home really, but he’d be damned if he’d go eagerly.
“Take my carriage,” Red offered. “That way you will be back by the time Drake has returned from France.”
Knight bunched a hand at the thought of riding in Red’s crest-emblazoned town coach, crunching the letter between his palm and fingers. Noble blood might run through his veins, but he didn’t belong in such a vehicle—he knew that much. Too many years had passed, and he’d seen too much. He was as rough as the next man and had no business arriving at a grand estate in such finery.
Even if it was now his estate.
God, the sooner it was gone, the better. He nodded. He’d take the damned coach if it meant he could have everything settled and return to Cornwall promptly. If he didn’t, he would be relying on mail coaches for most of the journey to Northumberland. While they were fast, he’d have to hop from coach to coach, eating up more time than he wished to spend on this matter.
Red patted Knight’s shoulder. “I’ll have the coach ready by mid-morning. You had better get some rest before the journey.”
Knight waved away the suggestion. He’d learned to go without sleep when needed and could rest on the journey. His time in the Army had taught him to snatch rest when and where he could, which meant he could sleep practically anywhere.
“I had better tell Julianna.” Knight glanced at the crumpled letter. If only Drake were here. He’d be better at comforting Julianna. As much as Knight loved her, he had little idea what to do with his much younger sister after so many years apart.
“Louisa will comfort her.”
He lifted his gaze to Red’s. How the hell did he know what he was thinking?
Red’s lips curved. “You are more obvious than you realize, Knight. Perhaps you are getting soft in your old age.”
“Not likely.”
“I shall leave you to it and arrange for the carriage to be made ready. Hannah will be wanting to know why I rushed out so quickly too.” Red exited the dining room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
Knight caught sight of Julianna talking to Louisa and a patron he did not recognize. There would be no putting it off until morning either then. He’d have to tell his sister now. Eyeing the letter once more, he crumpled it up and threw it in the fire, watching with satisfaction as the wax seal melted into oblivion.
The sooner this was dealt with the better—for both of them. And then he could return to this life. The life he was meant for. The life of a smuggler.
Chapter Four
Opening her mouth then closing it, Louisa studied the man in front of her. He was no rich man, but he had a charming air about him. His clothes were rumpled and a little threadbare but clean, and his accent was lilted—almost Northern—though she supposed time living elsewhere could have done that. He was about the same age as her—eight and twenty or so. Around the age Ralph Carter would have been had he still been alive.
Which he was not.
“Ralph is dead,” Louisa blurted out.
He smiled and chuckled. “As you can see, I am not.”
She shook her head rapidly and tightened her grip on the cloth in her hand. Ralph had been presumed killed during the early years of the war a few months before she had married her husband. She’d never even met him. But Jack had grieved for the young man, and there had been no word otherwise.
“You cannot be,” she whispered, aware of Julianna hovering nearby, concern etched onto her brow.
The man smiled sheepishly. “I know this might come as a shock. I’m only sorry I could not return before my father passed.”
Louisa felt her chin quiver and tightened her jaw. “You are many, many years too late for that.”
Something flickered in the man’s eyes, but he quickly buried it. “I regret that,” he said, his voice hollow.
Scanning his features, she looked for some sign of Jack. They had the same coloring—or at least similar. Jack’s eyes had been darker, but she knew her husband had chestnut hair in his younger years. This man’s was chestnut with a hint of red.
Swallowing, Louisa lifted her chin. “Why did you not get in touch? Let your father know you were alive?”
He gave a regretful smile. “I was not aware he thought me dead until it was too late. There was an error, and my death was incorrectly reported. By the time I found out what had happened, he had died. It did not seem worth returning home.” He shrugged.
Fingers to either side of her head, she attempted to rub away the burgeoning headache. “Where have you been all this time?”
“Bristol. I worked at a sawmill.”
Louisa glanced around. No one here would know who Ralph was or even recognize him but perhaps some of the older members of the village would. She noticed Red lingering casually at the end of the bar, having given up on leaving for home, perhaps because of what he’d overheard. She sent a questioning look his way, but he shrugged. Red had no idea if this was really Ralph or not.
She sighed. If he was, she had a duty to Jack’s memory to ensure he was well. “Can...can I get you a drink? You must have had a long journey.”
“An ale would be nice.” His smile expanded. “I can see why my father married you.”
“You could have come and visited before,” she said stiffly as she grabbed a mug and filled it before putting it in front of him. “What brings you home now?”
He hesitated a moment, opening his mouth then closing it before meeting her gaze. “I’m here to claim my inheritance, of course.”
Cold dread rolled over her, pooling in her stomach. She stared at him. Surely he could not mean...?
“Pardon?” The word came out a whisper.
“I’ve decided it’s time to return home and claim my inheritance.” Ralph took a lengthy gulp of ale and wiped his mouth with the back of a hand, resting an arm on the bar. “By that, I mean the inn.”
Behind her, Julianna gasped. Louisa could not even do the same. All the air vanished from her lungs.
“No.” She spoke before she’d managed to register a thought. No.
He could not have the inn. She’d worked hard her whole adult life to ensure the roof over her head and income remained secure.
“The inn only passed to you as my father had no surviving heirs. At least that was what everyone thought.”
Louisa met his gaze, saw the slight amusement creasing his eyes. Indignation made her cheeks hot. How could he find this entertaining? He was talking about taking her livelihood away.
“No,” she repeated, with more strength this time.
“You do not have much choice in the matter. The law of the land would agree with me. I am my father’s sole heir so this inn belongs to me.” He jabbed a finger against the wooden bar.
Fixing him with a cold glare, Louisa folded her arms across her chest and willed her pulse to slow. “I do not even know if you are Ralph Carter. You could be anyone.”
“I have documents that can prove I am him.” He pulled out a crumpled letter and spread it out on the bar. Even after all of these years, she recognized Jack’s handwriting.
“But—”
“I also have the deeds to this inn, but I like to keep this letter close. Seeing as it’s from my father.” His smile thinned as though weighted by the threat she saw flicking in his gaze.
Red must have sensed this too as he moved closer and gave her a small nod, letting her know he was around if she needed aid.
“You cannot just expect...” She inhaled. “What do you expect me to do? Hand over the inn to you?”
Ralph smirked. “My father married a smart woman it seems.”
“You must be mad. I will do no such thing.”
She watched him drain the ale, fists curled at her sides. His Adam’s apple bobbed while he drained the last drops. She had to resist the desire to shove him back or swing a punch at him. Every part of her felt hot and prickly. Her limbs were shaky. It had taken years to prove herself as capable of running the inn and even longer to make it reasonably profitable. What sort of a man walked in and laid claim to a place he had not set foot in for a decade?
Ralph placed the mug down with a flourish and rose from the stool. “I will give you two weeks, Mrs. Carter.”
“Two weeks?” she echoed.
“Two weeks to make arrangements to leave. Or else I shall have you thrown out.”
Red stood, his jaw clenched. Louisa was half-tempted to have the earl throw Ralph bodily out and see how he felt about it, but it would not help her cause. Julianna moved closer, coming to Louisa’s side.
“You cannot take my inn from me!” Louisa cried.
“You certainly cannot,” Julianna agreed.
“Two weeks.” He donned his hat and pushed a coin across the bar. “Thank you for the ale. I shall be seeing you soon, Stepmother.”
Louisa watched the man leave, forcing herself to draw deep breaths through her nostrils until he had left. She collapsed against the bar, digging both palms into the scarred wood.
“He cannot do such a thing, surely?” Julianna asked, looking to Red.
Red lifted his shoulders. “If he is Ralph Carter, he is heir to the inn.” He shook his head. “Are you certain it is him?”
“The letter he showed me was from his father. How else would he have it?” Louisa dropped her head onto her arms and sighed. “What can I even do?”
Julianna rubbed a soothing hand up and down her back. “We will think of something.”
“You need to check he is who he says he is. It is strange, him returning home after so long,” Red mused. “I shall make a few enquiries on your behalf.”
Louisa lifted her head. “You would do that for me?”
Red grinned. “Naturally. After all, you have helped me and my men out many a time. I believe we likely owe you one. But you should make your own enquiries. Where did he say he had been this whole time?”
“Bristol. He mentioned something about working at a mill.” Louisa straightened. Perhaps with Red’s help, she would not lose the inn after all. Red was right. Ralph’s sudden return was strange, and from what she knew of him from Jack, he would never do such a thing to family. Admittedly, years could change a person, but so drastically?
Unfortunately, she did not have long to find out if her suspicions were correct.
“I have a suggestion.” There was a slight hint of a smile touching to corners of Red’s mouth that made Louisa frown.
She peered at him. “Yes?”
“Go to Bristol. Find out what you can,” Red insisted. “I have been around enough dishonest men to sense when something is not right. I would go for you but you know I cannot leave Hannah.”
Louisa straightened and smoothed her hair back from her face. “And I cannot leave the inn. Not for so long. I do not even know how long it will take me to get to Bristol.” Given she had never left Cornwall, she was not even certain where it was. Upwards was about as much as she knew because any other direction would lead her to the sea.
“About three days by mail coach. But you can take my coach,” Red suggested. “It will be a lot quicker and you’ll be there in two.”
Julianna nodded. “And I can look after things while you are gone.”
Louisa glanced between her two friends. Since inheriting the inn, she could not remember a day when she had been anywhere else. She occasionally went to Truro or some of the nearer towns to negotiate with suppliers but the thought of leaving the inn, knowing that predatory man was waiting in the eaves to swoop in and steal her life’s work, made her gut clench.
She chewed on her bottom lip as she weighed the options. “That is still at least four days. If not more. I shall need time to investigate.” But she could not just sit back and let Red do all the work and simply wait for the inn to be taken from her.
Red motioned to Julianna. “Julianna is more than capable.”
Louisa nodded slowly. She was. Julianna had breeding and an education that Louisa did not, yet she proved herself the hardest worker Louisa had ever had and could be mightily fierce when needed. She swung her gaze to Julianna. “Are you certain you can manage?”
“Of course.” The pretty, dark-haired woman nodded firmly. “We cannot let him take the inn, Louisa. This place would not be the same without you.”
How could she argue with that? She had to know for certain if this man was really Ralph, and as much as the earl had contacts and investigators at his disposal, the quickest way to establish who he was, would be to go to where he’d been living for so long.
“Very well. I shall do it.”
Chapter Five
Crisp, salt-ripened air blew across the cliff tops, riffling Knight’s hair. He put on his hat and strode out to meet the coach as it drew to a halt outside the inn. Gleaming under the early morning sun that peeked through scattered clouds, the carriage was drawn by four mottled gray horses. Knight huffed out a breath. He’d feel a damned fraud arriving home in such a thing.
Behind him, the inn door slammed shut, pushed into its resting place by a sudden gust of wind. It was likely Julianna seeing him off. After he’d informed her of their father’s death, he’d spent the night nursing a drink, and she’d busied herself with work. Neither of them had it in them to mourn the man. He turned.
“Knight?”
His name on her lips curled around his insides, tying tight. What the devil was she doing here?
Louisa peered at the bag he clutched in one hand. His belongings were sparse, but he’d gathered up what he needed early this morning, including a change of clothes and his spare pistol. Travelling in such grandeur could attract attention, and he’d be damned if he would not be prepared.
It took him a moment to notice she too clutched a travelling bag. He’d found himself distracted by the way the cool air made her cheeks pink and whisked tiny fair curls around her face. She wore a simple pale brown spencer that drew his attention inevitably down to the curves beneath that were carefully hugged by a simple column of linen.
She shifted, curling both hands around the worn leather handle of her bag. “Are you going somewhere?”
He shifted his attention back to her face. “Yes.”
“In the earl’s coach?”
“Yes.”
She bit down on her bottom lip and shook her head. “As am I.”
He lifted a brow. “The earl offered me his coach to travel to Northumberland.”
Her lips tilted. “And he offered it to me to travel to Bristol. It seems Red has been generous indeed with his transport.”
Knight cursed under his breath. Damn that man. What was he thinking? Red knew Knight would not want company for this journey. Especially from Louisa. As much as he’d like to think he had given nothing of his interest in her away, Red was no fool. The bloody man had come up with this ploy to ensure they spent time together.
Well, the man might not be a fool but he was an idiot if he thought time together would do anything. Louisa had no interest in him and rightly so. What could a man like him ever give a woman like her?
“I have to go with haste.” Knight handed his luggage over to the footman.
Louisa scowled and took several steps forward, thrusting out her travelling bag to the man while his back was turned. Before the footman could return to take it, Knight snatched it from her and deposited it back on the doorstep of the inn.
“What do you think you are doing?” She trailed after him and seized the bag, stomping back over to the carriage.
Knight went to grab the bag again, but she slapped his hand away.
He eyed her, brows lifted. Louisa had a fierce temper when necessary but it was rarely directed at him. “You can go another time. My business is urgent.”
And he could not travel with her. He just could not.
“As is mine!”
“You can go to Bristol on a different day. Or catch a mail coach.”
Her eyes flared. “Red promised his coach to me. You can take a mail coach if travelling with me is so terrible.”
He grimaced. The last thing he wanted to do was insult her, but the thought of being in such close confines with this woman made the knot in his gut tie tighter. Better to have her angry with him than have to suffer the torture of being so close to her and not being able to do a thing about it.
What's a Rogue Got To Do With It (Rogues of Redmere Book 4) Page 3