Page 16 of Rules for a Bastard Lord
“Lord no. His father won’t hear of it.”
So the father saw what the son couldn’t. “She’s not so fine a woman, then.”
“Bluebell? Nonsense. Known her all her life. She’s grown into a right smart girl, but there’s a question, you see.”
Bram shifted to look closely at the innkeeper. With girls like her, there was always a question. “What is it?” he pressed, but the man shook his head.
“Not right of me to share gossip. She’s a fine girl. Will make someone a fine wife.”
Obviously, the man needed some inducement. “Dicky gave me this carriage here, but the axle’s been cut.”
“I know. Miss Bluebell told me by way of Thomas. I’ve sent round for Mr. Grummer, but it’ll take a couple days.”
A couple days in this backwater hole was not what he wanted. Worse, at the end, he’d have a carriage with no horses and no place to put the thing once he got to London.
“Know anyone who’d want to buy it?”
“That thing? We don’t have much call for a fancy carriage around here. Can’t think of a soul.”
“Miss Bluebell says she knows of someone.”
The man’s brows arched. “Well, then I’d trust her. She’ll drive a hard bargain, that one, but she always delivers. Got that from her mother. Honest folk, those two. It was the mother who made sure of it.”
There was a story here. He was sure of it. “The father a bounder?”
The man harrumphed as he wandered to the carriage. “Don’t know. Never met the man.”
“Missing?”
“Dead. Miss Bluebell’s mum comes here six months pregnant and settles down. Says her man’s dead in the war, and she’s got to make her own way. And she did. My wife and me, we helped out here and there, like we do with everyone, but there wasn’t much need with them. She tended her babe, grew her garden, and then soon enough, there was little Bluebell mixing and making possets and selling them for coppers.” Then his expression shifted to a fond smile. “That little girl could sell wings to a bird, but you don’t mind when you’re paying her. She’s always so sweet about it.”
Of course she was. That was part of the job when tricking a man. Smile and promise with everything you have. That makes it a pleasant experience even as you’re fleecing them. He knew. His mother was a master at it.
“So that’s the problem then, isn’t it? No father so everyone thinks she’s a bastard. What about the aunt she mentioned?”
The man screwed up his lips and spit. “Never seen her. Never visits, never writes. It’s been just her and her mum, leastways until recently.”
“Recently?”
“Her mum died. A cough plagued her for years, and the winter was the end of her. Though it took until a few weeks ago for ’er to give in. Strong was that woman.”
“So now it’s Bluebell all alone,” he murmured.
The man’s gaze sharpened. “Now, see here, we look after one another here. Have to, you understand. If something ’appens to her, I’ll be coming to see you.”
It took a moment for Bram to realize what the man was thinking. “I’m not going to touch that girl!” he said, meaning every word. “But I do need to sell this carriage, and I drive as hard a bargain as she does.”
“That’s a sight I’d like to see,” the man said with a grin. “Some fancy nob getting the better of our Bluebell.”
“I don’t want to get the better of anyone. Just want a fair deal.”
“Uh-huh.”
“And I don’t want anything except that.”
“Then you ain’t a normal man. Everybody looks at ’er and thinks of more. She’ll be by tonight. You’ll see her then.”
With the whole village watching? And invested in making sure Miss Bluebell got the better of the outsider? Ha! Might as well hand her the carriage for free then, because he wouldn’t get more than a copper for it.
