by Joan Smith
“It would take a downturn if they ever captured Captain Johnnie,” Buck said, and refilled his glass. He was not much atuned to a joke.
“Then I hope he runs free for a good many years yet.”
Joshua bristled, but whether it was her support of the Royal Scamp or Buck’s making free with the wine that caused it, she couldn’t say. “Just the foolish attitude I would expect you to take!”
“You know where to place the blame,” she told him airily.
“I suppose you’re half in love with the rogue, like all the ladies. They were singing a ballad in his honor last week in London. 'The Royal Scamp’ it is called. Making a hero of a villain—a common thief.”
“You have all the romance of a turnip, Joshua,” Esther told him. “How could any lady in her right mind fail to be in love with a dashing highwayman who dares to attack whole caravans single-handed? They say he is very gentlemanly, too. Why, Mrs. Heskett, who had the pleasure of being robbed by him, said he left her very fine diamond wedding ring on her finger rather than hurt her by pulling it off, for it was a trifle tight, you know. I daresay all wedding rings bind after a while,” she added mischievously.
“If he works alone, he hadn’t much choice, had he?” Joshua asked. “If he put down his pistol to yank a tight ring off, it wouldn’t be long before the men in the carriage would overcome him.”
“That is one explanation for his gallantry. He seems to be safe from attack while he kisses all the ladies, at least. Odd none of the gentlemen bother to overpower him then. One would think that would nudge them out of their cowardice if anything would, to see their women being mauled by a criminal.” Before Joshua could think of a setdown, she turned to Buck and inquired about her guests.
Joshua disliked being left out of the discussion, or perhaps it was the subject matter that displeased him. “If we are sunk to discussing housekeeping, I shall run along. Are you coming, Buck?”
“I haven’t finished my wine,” Buck told him.
“Drink it up. You won’t want to remain alone with an unchaperoned lady.”
“That is true, Buck,” Esther agreed. “You wouldn’t want to sink so low as your cousin. The fact that you are alone with me every other night of the week is no excuse to do it now, when Joshua is afraid to go home alone. He fears Captain Johnnie may abandon the heath and go after to him.”
“I would be very happy to tangle with the rogue, alone or otherwise," Joshua boasted.
Esther rolled her eyes ceilingward and sighed. “Ah, so would I! Preferably alone.”
“Come along, Buck,” Joshua repeated irritably.
Buck drank up his wine, and they left. Esther sat on alone, mulling over their conversation. Joshua’s visits always upset her. She felt it her duty to love him and marry him. Her father had expected it, and Lady Brown still pushed the idea forward. But how could you love a man with no sense of humor? Joshua hadn’t used to be so dour. It was her turning her home into an inn that had robbed him of his former spirits.
How could anyone envisage being Mrs. Joshua Ramsay, hanging on the Abbey wall with all those dull grenadiers? No, she couldn’t possibly marry him, but if others of his class shared his opinion, then turning Lowden Hall into the Lowden Arms had made her ineligible.
That was what bothered her. Twenty-three years old. Her looks, such as they were, wouldn’t last forever, and despite her proud boast, she didn’t want to grow old living in the dower house with her aunt. She wanted much more from life than that. She sighed, blew out the lamps, and went upstairs to bed.
Chapter Two
There were periods when Esther didn’t darken the door of the Lowden Arms from head to toe of the week. Spring was not one of those times. When the fashionable people were on the road traveling to London for the season, going to each other’s country homes, or just out enjoying a drive in the country, often stopping for lunch or dinner at her hostelry, she was tempted to slip over and take a meal in her old dining room, which she did not call the common room. The public dining room was so elegant, her paying guests could sit down without fear of rubbing shoulders with undesirables. Her prices ensured keeping such clients at the Black Knight, a few miles down the road.
She had an additional excuse for going to the inn, as she kept the family nags at the inn stable. A footboy could bring Flame to her, but on a fine day in April, with the sun beckoning overhead, with a view of the inn from her bedroom window above the intervening row of stately poplars showing bright gowns and dashing blue jackets, she decided to stroll over to the inn herself and have Flame saddled up. She was always careful to have the escort of a groom to lend her dignity. A canter into the village to visit the modiste was her outing.
Esther went down to breakfast in her riding habit, to see her aunt, Lady Brown, fiddling with her poached eggs. Lady Brown was as elegant as a hundred pounds a year could make her. Her husband—a knight, not a baronet—had left her nearly penniless, but Esther gave her a pension as well as room and board. The chaperon was a plump matron of sixty years, with a round pink face that belied her astringent nature. She looked like one of those jolly old ladies, but she was, in fact, a complainer.
“I hear Joshua Ramsay dropped in last night, Esther,” was Lady Brown’s first speech. The chaperon’s main goal in life was to awaken her niece to the many excellencies of Joshua Ramsay and Heath Abbey. Esther was disappointed to realize her breakfast was going to be ruined by a lecture. “Did he remain long?”
“No, not long.”
“You should have called me. He is too nice to have prolonged his visit when you were alone. We don’t want to give him the notion you are behaving improperly.”
To avoid the subject Esther said, “He didn’t mind, Auntie. Is there any news from the inn?” The servants visited back and forth often and kept the ladies informed of events.
Lady Brown, being an excellent gossip, was diverted to this new subject with no trouble. “I was out for a little stroll along the Thames before you came down. Such a lovely day! I happened to bump into one of your guests.” This was French for saying she’d spotted an interesting client and gone tailing after him. Her niece required no translation. “He’s a navy fellow, a young lad just lately back from Canada. Fletcher is the name, Beau Fletcher.”
“A decent-seeming sort?” Esther asked, jealous for her inn’s reputation.
“Top of the trees. Well to grass. You need not fear Mr. Fletcher will lower the tone.”
“What is a naval man doing here, I wonder.”
“He is ex-navy, looking about for a place to buy, he mentioned. Or a business to put his money into. He must have plenty of it. He hired the west tower suite for a week, while he looks around the countryside.”
“I didn’t realize the navy was so profitable. He must have made good prize money. What was his rank?”
“Captain. He would have been admiral if he had stuck with it, I don’t doubt. He seemed very bright.”
Esther poured coffee and asked, “How old is he?”
“Youngish. His wealth is inherited, I believe. At least he didn’t mention prize money. He was regretting he had not been here two years earlier, and he would have bought your land, Esther. It is about the size he has in mind. We got chatting, you know, when he found out who I was. It would not do for you to chat to a young fellow, but when you reach my years, there is no harm in it.” Lady Brown never found any harm in ferreting out gossip.
If Beau Fletcher had in mind a thousand acres of prime land and a home to be built besides, he was certainly well to grass. “Was Mrs. Fletcher with him?” Esther asked nonchalantly.
“He’s a bachelor.”
“It’s odd he would not set up his estate where he was born and bred. What part of the country is he from?”
“Northumberland. He has some affairs in London that keep him from home. He imports furs and lumber from Canada.”
“I see.” Mr. Fletcher became more interesting by the minute. Esther meant to discover his appearance for herself while
at the inn. Any gentleman who had half his hair and was neither blind nor halt was considered young and handsome by Lady Brown, if he was civil enough to let her engage him in conversation.
It was not long in occurring to Esther that a gentleman traveler would eat in her public dining hall. If she were there, it was possible she might have Mr. Fletcher presented to her, as he now knew Lady Brown. “What do you say we take dinner at the Arms this evening, Auntie?”
“We’re about due for it,” she agreed. Lady Brown always enjoyed eating out, surrounded by a lively crowd, instead of sitting alone with only a niece for company. The chef at the Arms was unexceptionable, which was an added inducement.
“What’s on the menu tonight?” Lady Brown asked,
“Roast beef is always on. There might be some spring lamb—I’m not sure Buck ordered any. Then there will be seafood, if you prefer that.”
“With a raised pigeon pie and a slice of ham, we shall be well fed,” she decided, considering the menu.
After breakfast Esther went over to the Arms and had Flame saddled up. She didn’t make Mr. Fletcher’s acquaintance, but she did see a handsome young gentleman hopping into a dashing black carriage, and heard a groom say, “Shall I exercise your mare, Mr. Fletcher?” She also heard Mr. Fletcher reply, “If you will be so kind,” and saw him behave with that civility to inferiors that marks the true gentleman.
Her new client was indeed a handsome specimen. He was outfitted in city style, with a closely cropped Brutus do, just brushed forward over his temples. His jacket of Bath cloth sat well on his lean and muscled frame. Esther saw only a profile of his face, which made her eager to see the rest at dinner that evening.
Dinner did not turn out as expected at all. The first letdown was that Mr. Fletcher was not in the dining room. There wasn’t a decent eatery in town other than the inn. The man must have gone a few miles down the road to Windsor, which annoyed her. Another vexation was that the roast beef, her chef's best dish, was overcooked. It was as dry as day-old bread.
Lady Gloria Devere swanned into the room, dragging a trail of ancient shawls behind her. Wool paisley vied with stripes and chiffon flowers. From the sagging tendons of her neck hung her sole piece of jewelry, a string of pearls. Her skin was the same pale hue, almost transparent. Her russet hair had faded to the indeterminate shade of yellowed linen and was thin on top. Without her title she would have been small ornament to the inn. Esther spoke loudly in greeting. “Good evening, Lady Gloria.”
The dame stopped by their table for a word. “Chilly this evening,” she said in a quavering voice, with a hitch of the paisley scarf. “I’m afraid you’ll find the beef was just a teensy bit dry, Miss Lowden. At the castle Papa used to feed the end pieces to the servants.” Her rheumy eyes scanned Esther’s plate for comparison. “I stopped by Mr. Ramsay’s office just now to tell him, but there was no answer when I knocked.”
“I shall take Cook to task for it,” Miss Lowden assured her.
“And perhaps you could tell Mr. Ramsay my windows are due for a washing. The traffic raises such a dust, but there, I cannot expect the amenities of my late father’s castle at an inn.” She smiled imperiously and left.
Lady Gloria was always catered to. Her unprepossessing appearance added nothing to the establishment, and as she had come to cuffs with her entire family, there was no hope for any business from them, but still, it was pleasant to be able to mention Lady Gloria when speaking of the inn.
Esther and Lady Brown went to Buck’s office to deliver her complaints and to catch up on the day’s doings. “Were you out, Buck?” Esther asked. “Lady Gloria said she got no answer.”
“I spotted her coming and locked the door,” he confessed. He told them all the little happenings at the inn. A tiff between a couple of the maids, a lost serving platter. “It’s likely sitting right on the shelf. Nell couldn’t find water in the sea.” A string of fish-scale pearls left behind by a customer, and what should he do with them? “Fish-scale,” he said, nostrils quivering. “I look forward to the day we can turn her sort from the door.”
It was nine-thirty before the ladies rose to go home. Buck was lively company. There was some manliness lacking in him, but he would make anyone a wonderful husband, and he made Esther a competent manager. He was a good oiler of upset clients and as suspicious as a housewife of any shortage in the wine cellar or pantry.
“I’ll call one of the boys to accompany you ladies home,” he said, when they were ready to leave.
Just as they stepped into the lobby, they met Joshua Ramsay coming in the door. He seldom visited the inn. It “broke his heart” to see the fine old mansion sunk to entertaining travelers and to realize the family was now beneath reproach. His brows went up, and his nostrils pinched in displeasure to see Esther issuing from the office door. It flashed into her head that he was going to cut her, but in the end he bowed briefly and said good-evening.
Lady Brown gushed forward to make him welcome, but Esther adopted a stiff, formal tone to repay his hesitation. “To what do we owe the honor of this visit, Mr. Ramsay? You arrive a trifle late for dinner,” she said coolly.
“I am just returning from London and decided to stop for a bite to save my servants the bother of cooking at this hour.”
“You’re brave, tackling the heath after dark. Go on into the dining room. They’re still serving, but I advise you away from the roast beef. It’s dry as dust. Buck and I have just been ordering a new stove for Peters.”
“I shall accompany you home first,” Joshua replied. “You are returning home now, are you not? Or had you planned to join the muslin company in the tavern?”
Lady Brown emitted an audible gasp. Esther was extremely annoyed with him, especially as a new guest had just come downstairs and stood listening. From the corner of her eye she noticed he was done up in the first style of elegance. He was tall and dark—her first thought was that he was Beau Fletcher, but she soon realized her error. He was not quite that tall or dark or handsome.
“You will find no lightskirts here,” she informed Ramsay. “If that is what brought you, you came to the wrong place. You ought to have stopped at the Black Knight. I hear they cater to men of your kidney.”
Joshua knew by the glint in Esther’s eye that she was about to become impossible, and he changed his tune. “What do you think kept me so late, Esther?” he asked, and laughed at her surprise.
Her attention wandered again to the newcomer, and she noticed he was staring at her, surprised at such warm talk. He looked the sort of client she wished to attract to the Lowden Arms, and for him to witness an unseemly argument in the lobby on his first night vexed her. On the other hand, Joshua’s bold remark could not go unchallenged. “I see I am behind the times! Perhaps I should ask Buck to hire me a few females.”
“Esther!” Lady Brown’s eyes bulged in shock.
Ramsay’s lips opened to object, and Esther continued speaking to forestall him. “I’ll be sure to tell him where I got the idea. Perhaps you could suggest some lightskirts, Josh, from among your broad acquaintance with the species?”
The presence of a few customers in the lobby was all that prevented him from reading her a lecture. He just shook his head and laughed uncomfortably. “It will be a wonder if you don’t end up in the suds, the way you carry on.”
“I made sure you thought I was there already.”
“Come along, I’ll take you home. I shan’t enjoy dinner, wondering what you’re up to if I leave you here.”
He offered one arm to Lady Brown, another to Esther, and they proceeded to the front door. Before they had gone two steps, the door opened and an extremely bedraggled couple came staggering in. The man carried a hat whose crown was torn loose. He held a handkerchief to his left eye, and there were signs of blood on his shirt. The woman was completely distraught. “Help! Someone help us! We’ve been robbed,” she gasped just before falling in a heap at their feet.
The hem of her skirt was well dusted. Her slippers also
bore signs of rough usage. Her whole toilette, once stylish, was in disarray, with her hair tumbling down and her hat askew.
“What happened?” Joshua asked the man.
“A highwayman—the one they call Captain Johnnie,” he said, then bent over his wife. The newcomer, who had been lurking at the foot of the stairs, darted forward and lifted the swooning lady to save her elderly husband the effort.
“The office,” Esther said, pointing to Buck’s lair. The man carried her in as easily as though she weighed nothing, and she was a hefty lady. Esther, following behind, noticed his broad back and his well-cut jacket. “Put her on Mr. Ramsay’s sofa,” she told him.
The man laid his burden down gently. “Some wine—feathers to be burned. Perhaps Miss—” He looked a question at Esther.
“Miss Lowden. I own the inn,” she said, admitting the truth in the excitement of the moment. “Buck, some wine.”
Buck darted for wine, Esther rang for hartshorn, and the victim’s husband hurried forward to chafe his wife’s hands.
“I’ll send for a doctor,” Esther said to no one in particular.
When she went for a footman, the newcomer followed her. After the footman was sent off, the stranger remained outside the office with her. “Perhaps it would be better if we did not clutter up the lady’s sick room,’ he suggested. “I am Mr. Meecham, a guest in your inn.”
“I’m afraid we’re giving you a poor opinion of our hospitality, Mr. Meecham.”
“Not at all. Offering help to distressed victims is admirable.”
Mr. Meecham proved, on close examination, to be congenial. It was difficult to decide his exact attraction. He wasn’t spectacularly handsome or anything of the sort. He was tallish, with dark brown hair, friendly brown eyes, and a good face, but it wasn’t a face to keep a lady awake nights. Yet his combined features seemed somehow to amount to more than their discrete parts. Esther’s first suspicion that he was a trifle high in the instep proved unfounded. There was a spark of liveliness in him.