Page 59 of Needs Must
But for the time being he was keeping Rosie sweet, ignoring her hints and generally enjoying himself. He sat in the taproom now, having seen Donna sweep in with her dragon of a maid partially blocking his view. Word was that she’d be moving into her cottage as early as the next day. The denizens of the taproom took an avid interest in the lady’s activities and their information was usually spot on.
He leaned back in his chair and wiped the ale from his whiskers with the back of his hand, thinking about Donna and whether or not to tell Harte that he’d found her. He shook his head before the possibility took hold. Ian had offered to pay him well – perhaps too well – for anything he came up with that would lead him to Donna.
He had offered to pay as much again if he could get hold of those letters, so that had become his primary objective. He knew that if he found them and discovered what was in them that had Harte wetting himself with fear, he would have the opportunity to make considerably more than Ian had offered him.
Of course, the chit’s dalliance with the earl complicated everything, which was one of the reasons why Henry was biding his time. And why he’d had a quiet word about her in that sanctimonious vicar’s ear, hoping to deter the earl’s interest in a woman whose reputation had been tainted by her involvement in an unexplained murder. He wanted a good payday, but he didn’t want to get on the wrong side of an influential aristocrat.
He could, he supposed, tell Harte that Donna was living beneath the earl’s protection. He chuckled as he considered the cove’s reaction. It would almost be worth losing his reward just to see the presumptuous dolt brought down to size. Even he had more sense than to challenge a belted earl. He would know that he’d met his match and he would be left to fester in aggrieved silence.
Tempting though the possibility of finally avenging himself on Ian actually was, Henry was no fool. He had to eat and line his pockets for the future, so he wasn’t about to burn his bridges. Anyway, there was no rush to decide. He raised his tankard, signalling to Betty that he needed a refill. She obliged with alacrity and received a hefty pat on the backside for her trouble.
‘You’re such a one,’ she laughed, winking at him and sashaying away with an exaggerated swing of her generous hips.
Yes, Henry thought, taking a healthy swig of his replenished beer. Life didn’t get much better than being paid to drink ale and flirt with the hired help.
He was still feeling pretty pleased with himself when a gent he’d seen a few times before sat uninvited at his table.
‘You’ve been making a bit of a nuisance of yourself, by all accounts,’ the man said by way of greeting.
Never one to back away from a confrontation, Henry leaned towards him. ‘What’s that to you then?’ he asked, his tone hard and threatening.
‘The name’s Hardy. The Earl of Arndale would like a word with you in the morning. I strongly suggest that you keep the appointment.’
‘With me?’ Bugger! Henry hadn’t been quite as clever as he’d supposed. He shouldn’t have let Donna see him. He wouldn’t have if he’d known that she was on intimate terms with an earl, and he silently applauded her cunning. Ah well, he’d see what the cove wanted, if only because he wasn’t being offered much choice, and then he’d make up his mind what to do. After all, he hadn’t done anything illegal. Well, at least nothing in this district and nothing that the earl would be interested in. ‘What business does he have with me?’
‘I think you know.’ Hardy sighed. ‘Don’t try my patience.’
Hardy’s once amicable voice had developed a harder edge. He was not a man to cross, Henry decided.
Hardy gave directions to the gatehouse on the western edge of the earl’s estate. An isolated spot, Henry knew. He wondered if it was the location for his liaisons with Donna Harte and felt a pang of envy at the thought. He wondered too why there was a need for secrecy. If the earl wanted to pull rank, he would be more likely to succeed if he had Henry call at the servants’ entrance to his house.
Ah well, the earl’s reasoning would presumably become clear when Henry attended the meeting; it was an invitation that it would be unwise to decline.
In fact, he was anxious to accept it.
‘Don’t think of quitting the district,’ Hardy said, standing to take his leave. ‘That would be most unwise. The earl rewards those who choose to help him, but woe betide anyone who thinks they can cross him.’
‘Wouldn’t think of doing such a thing,’ Henry replied, raising his tankard in an ironic salute as Hardy walked away from him.
Donna and Miriam were up with the dawn. They broke their fast in their chamber and lost no time in returning to Denmead Cottage, with the obliging Tom following behind in the tavern’s wagon loaded with their possessions. This was all she had in the world, Donna thought with a pang of regret. But now was not the time to think about what had been left behind in her haste to quit Jamaica. She had not realised at the time that her abrupt departure would make it appear as though she was fleeing the authorities. She had left when she did because she was insufferably homesick and there was a cabin available on the ship that left the day after her husband’s funeral. The same day she discovered that her brother-in-law had snatched her fortune from under her nose.
What was done was done and it did no good to repine. She would be better advised to turn her mind to the uncertain future she now faced.
Miriam supervised the unloading of the wagon while Donna, hindered by Willow’s determination to treat the entire episode as a game, concentrated on hanging the curtains. By the time she had done so, Miriam had spread a colourful rug in front of the fire and Willow had adopted it as his personal domain.
‘At least it stops him from attempting to dig his claws into the curtains,’ Donna said, smiling at the young dog, now curled in a tight circle and snoring softly. Moments previously he had been chasing in a different type of circle, attempting to catch and tame his own tail. ‘It feels like home already,’ she added, taking note of all the little touches that Miriam had made so effortlessly. ‘We will be very comfortable.’
Donna relished the prospect of having her own bedchamber again, something that she had previously taken for granted. Sharing with Miriam had been difficult. Her maid’s weight caused Donna to constantly roll against her. And if that wasn’t enough to keep her awake, Miriam’s snoring ensured restless nights.
‘Right, lass. We’d best get you out of that old gown.’
‘Why?’ Donna blinked back her surprise.
‘Because you need to make Aykroyd think that you’re much better situated than you actually are.’
Donna laughed. ‘He will have heard that I intend to live here and will doubtless have looked at the place, so he will not be deceived. And I certainly don’t want him to think that I’m the earl’s mistress.’
She blushed when she realised that the prospect didn’t alarm her nearly as much as it ought to. Dear God, what was wrong with her? The earl was attempting to help her simply because a murder had been committed in his village. And since Donna had promised Esmeralda’s spirit that she would attempt to bring her killer to justice, they were both committed to the same cause.
