A Very Dishonest Scandal (The Hero Next Door Book 5)

by Rebecca King

  ‘Fair? Fair? How dare you come in here spouting nonsense about being fair? Yes, your family have been in this village for a long time but that doesn’t give you the right to do what you like,’ Mr Rindle spat.

  ‘I haven’t done anything,’ Rosemary protested loudly, whirling to face him with an angry glare.

  Mr Rindle huffed and puffed as he tugged on his waistcoat, but eventually conceded: ‘Well, you might not have, but your father has.’

  ‘What? What has he done?’ Rosemary snapped.

  ‘It isn’t my position to tell the likes of you. I suggest you ask him that,’ Mr Rindle growled with a nod at the watch shop across the street.

  ‘God, you are really disgraceful, do you know that?’ Rosemary hissed. ‘You have known my father for years. He has helped you on many occasions but that now stands for nothing because you have heard some spiteful gossip. What do you know of it? Do you know that what you have heard is fact? Has anybody shown you any proof?’

  ‘I don’t need proof,’ Mr Rindle retorted but a little less forcibly, as if the idea of providing evidence to support his accusations made him uncomfortable.

  ‘Yes, you do. If you are going to slander someone and try to damage their business then you most definitely do need proof, or you could end up before a judge. I would concern yourself with how much you are prepared to discredit someone to the detriment of your business. Who knows, the next person the vile gossips decide to target might well be you.’ With that, Rosemary slammed out of the grocery. She was physically shaking with the force of her distress and struggling not to cry when she appeared at the butchery moments later.

  ‘I would like to pay the bill, Mr Graham,’ she announced flatly when she appeared at the butchery counter.

  Mr Graham looked somewhat discomforted but was at least polite while she paid the man and informed him that her regular order was to be cancelled.

  ‘Are you leaving?’ Mr Graham asked, looking sad yet thoughtful at the same time.

  ‘What, and allow the vile gossips to win? I shouldn’t think so,’ Rosemary hissed, uncharacteristically scornful as she threw him a dour look. ‘I am just going to do my business somewhere else before we get accused of something else that we haven’t done.’

  Rosemary hurried into the bakery. She closed the door behind her and waited in line. Thankfully, there were only two other customers in the shop, but the heavy silence that greeted her warned her that they had also heard the gossip. Rather than pay too much attention to the looks they slid in her direction, Rosemary tried to think of who she could ask for the name of the culprit behind the spite, but she doubted anybody would be honest with her. Besides, questioning people would only create more speculation and gossip. She couldn’t bear the thought of doing anything that would make the present situation worse.

  When it was her turn to be served, Mrs Hampton slammed a loaf of bread onto the counter, Rosemary’s usual order, without Rosemary asking for it. The baker’s wife glared at her across the narrow surface of the counter, as if accusing her of something. Rosemary looked at the woman but dropped the money she owed the baker’s wife onto the counter before stalking toward the door.

  ‘Don’t you want the bread?’ Mrs Hampton called after her, holding the loaf aloft.

  ‘Not from you, no. You can cancel our order from now on. We will do our shopping at a better establishment,’ Rosemary snapped before slamming the door closed behind her with a resounding bang.

  Tipping her chin up, she then marched down the road to the ticketing office behind the tavern and purchased a coaching ticket to town. It was the very last place that Rosemary wanted to go today. Not only did it mean that her entire morning would be spent fetching provisions, she really didn’t have all that much more money to spare. However, the horrible experience she had endured this morning had left her with no choice but to shop elsewhere. On a personal note, pride refused to allow her to give the judgemental shop keepers her custom.

  Once aboard the carriage, Rosemary stared moodily out of the window. But as the carriage rumbled through the winding country lanes, she became aware that the other occupants were sliding knowing looks at her. On the seat opposite, two women were whispering to each other and trying their hardest not to openly stare at her. When Rosemary glared at them, they hastily looked away, but a thick tension hovered over them all that was awful. It became so oppressive that Rosemary slid the window down and tipped her face toward the gentle breeze wafting into the conveyance. Rosemary didn’t give them the satisfaction of bothering to look at them again. Instead, she stared out of the window and waited for the horrible journey to be over.

  Maybe father is right in that we should leave Oakley Bridge, if only to stop this kind of morning from having to be endured again. We shouldn’t have to go through this just because some spiteful witch takes exception to something we have done and starts vile gossip about us.

  When the carriage pulled to a stop in town, Rosemary immediately hurried off to purchase the things she needed. She didn’t bother to glance around her as she wound her way through the pedestrians wandering through the market. She focused on visiting the shops that she needed to purchase items from so she could return home as quickly as possible. With her head kept low, Rosemary scurried this way and that as she did her shopping, right up to the moment that she slammed bodily into a pedestrian walking toward her and turned her entire life upside down.

  ‘Ah, Rosemary Tynesdale, how are you this fine morning?’

  Rosemary gasped at the handsome man grinning at her. It was striking just how relieved she was to see a friendly face and hear a jovial greeting. ‘Rupert Lawless! What are you doing here this early?’

  ‘I work here now,’ Rupert replied, tugging his ear and smiling at her bashfully. He nodded at the accountant’s premises across the road. ‘Over there, with Mr Unwin. I am an apprentice.’

  ‘Well done,’ Rosemary cried, delighted for him. ‘Do you live in Mirsley Ford now?’

  ‘I do indeed. I have a room in a lodging house just a few streets away. It isn’t much but it is mine,’ Rupert replied, his smile widening with pride.

  A slightly uncomfortable silence fell between them for just a fraction of a second. It was gone as swiftly as it appeared but left a lasting impression on Rosemary whose face turned solemn.

  ‘You have heard the gossip then,’ Rupert murmured, looking concerned for her.

  ‘What are they saying?’ Rosemary asked. ‘Father has heard that gossips are saying that he has sold some watches that don’t work. It’s rubbish, of course. Father would never do that, but everyone is suddenly treating us as if we are the scourge of the earth.’

  Rupert pursed his lips and looked down the road before he eventually admitted. ‘I have heard that too. I know it is rubbish. My father is annoyed about it, especially because he grew up with your father and knows him well. He said that there wasn’t a finer and more honest person, and that it is complete balderdash, but there are people who will believe the lies anyway just for the thrill of it.’

  ‘Who would do something like that?’ Rosemary whispered. ‘Why? We haven’t done anything to anybody.’

  ‘Sometimes, you don’t need to do something to someone for them to target you. Don’t blame yourself. The problem is purely theirs. You know that what is being said is fictitious. That is all that matters, isn’t it?’ Rupert said awkwardly.

  Rosemary knew that he was trying to offer some comfort but replied: ‘Not when it has ruined business. My father has worked all his life to make his name in clock making. It doesn’t seem fair that it should all be ruined by a spiteful gossip. Do you have any idea who it might be?’

  Rupert shook his head. ‘I doubt that the real culprit will ever be found.’

  That was the last thing Rosemary wanted to hear. ‘But they can’t hide. There has to be someone who knows who started it.’

  ‘If I can think of someone who might be able to help you find out, I will be in touch,’ Rupert replied. ‘It might be t
hat the people who are enjoying spreading the lies the most are the ones determined to make sure that the damage is absolute but for reasons only known to themselves.’

  Rosemary contemplated that and realised that Rupert had a very valid point. She smiled her thanks.

  ‘With your permission, I would like to call upon you in a few days,’ Rupert announced suddenly, his youthful face breaking out into another smile.

  ‘You are welcome to call upon us at any time. I hope you know that,’ Rosemary replied warmly, smiling back at him.

  Rupert bowed. ‘I have to go, but please rest assured that I will see what I can do to help you find the source of that gossip.’

  To Rosemary’s surprise, Rupert picked up her hand and kissed the back of it. His gaze remained locked on hers and held hidden messages that were gone with a blink of his eyes. It took a few seconds for Rosemary to read and understand what he meant.

  ‘Oh,’ she gasped, but Rupert had already released her and bowed smartly before quickly turning away. ‘Now there is a surprise.’ Rosemary remained where she was and watched him run across the street and pause to wave at her one last time before disappearing into the building.

  ‘I don’t know what you think you are playing at, but you aren’t going to sully his reputation with your sordid scheming.’

  Rosemary felt the small hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when she heard that familiar voice. She turned around slowly, trying to draw out the moment that she was forced to face the last person she wanted to see this morning – ever – Samantha Morton. Without saying a word, Rosemary nodded once and turned to leave only for Samantha’s next words to stop her.

  ‘He isn’t interested in you, you know. He is playing with you.’ The sneer in Samantha’s voice was dark and infinitely spiteful.

  ‘What would you know of it? Have you asked him, or are you bold enough to tell him what he should feel now as well?’ Rosemary asked, raking her with a dismissive look.

  ‘I am just telling you,’ Samantha replied.

  ‘I cannot remember asking you for your opinion. Seeing as you are hardly in a position to ask him about his feelings, I can only assume that you are being presumptuous enough to guess what he thinks or feels,’ Rosemary replied smoothly before giving the woman a pointed look. ‘Unless you are eavesdropping now.’

  ‘I think you should know that I hope to make an announcement soon,’ Samantha replied, tipping her chin up. ‘About me and Rupert, and I don’t thank you for having expectations of him.’

  Rosemary’s lips twitched because she seriously doubted that. With Rupert having only just moved into lodgings and having recently secured himself a new position as an apprentice in Mr Unwin’s accountancy, it was highly unlikely that he would want to upend his life by finding himself a wife. Of course, with Samantha and her family relatively new to the village, they didn’t have a long-standing acquaintance with Rupert’s family and so wouldn’t know about their impoverished lifestyle. The family needed Rupert’s income, and most definitely didn’t need another mouth to feed in the form of Rupert’s wife.

  But that begs to question why he wants to call upon me in the next couple of days.

  Tucking that thought aside to contemplate later, Rosemary looked down at the boots that appeared before her, blocking her path and leaving her with no choice but to look up at the arrogant young woman who was determined to ruin her day.

  ‘Stay away from him,’ Samantha ordered coldly when Rosemary side-stepped around her.

  ‘I beg your pardon?’ Rosemary snorted. ‘How dare you tell me who I should speak to. Why, how arrogant.’

  Samantha’s eyes were full of spite when she stepped closer. ‘You are nothing more than a clock maker’s daughter. Mr Lawless won’t associate with the likes of you when he hears about what your father is doing. Your father is nothing more than a conman. Rupert works for an accountant. It won’t do for word to be spread that he is consorting with a known crook like your father. I will tell him. I will tell him all about you.’

  ‘Are you threatening me?’ Rosemary knew then that she had found the source of the vile gossip. Or, rather, the source of the gossip had found her. ‘How dare you cast such vile aspersions around about us? What have we ever done to you?’

  ‘Nothing,’ Samantha replied unconcernedly with a shrug. She glanced around to make sure nobody was listening before stepping closer. ‘I just don’t like you. I think you will find that unlike you, I do socialise with the locals. I have their ear and can say whatever I want about whomever I like. Nobody challenges me, and nobody can stop me, not even you.’

  ‘My father has never repaired anything of yours. How dare you question the skill of a master craftsman like my father?’ Rosemary snapped.

  Samantha blinked at her as if a little surprised at Rosemary’s forceful defence of her father. Her hesitation was brief, though. ‘Like I have said, I can do whatever I like. Nobody is going to stop me. I am unstoppable.’

  ‘God, you are repulsive,’ Rosemary hissed in disgust. ‘I won’t let you get away with this. My father won’t let you get away with this. There are laws in this country, and they apply to everyone, even you.’

  Samantha snorted disparagingly. ‘I think you will find that you cannot stop me either so threaten as much as you want to.’

  ‘Why? Why are you doing this?’ Rosemary demanded.

  Samantha turned to leave and looked at her over her shoulder. ‘Because I don’t like you.’

  ‘I don’t like you either, but I wouldn’t lower myself to be as cruel as you,’ Rosemary retorted. ‘I am going to the magistrate about this. Spreading false accusations about anybody is illegal even for the likes of you.’

  ‘But you have no proof to support your claims about what I have just said,’ Samantha drawled with a satisfied smirk. ‘I shall just deny that I have said any of it.’

  ‘What do you want from us?’ Rosemary called after her. She hated to have to do it but wondered if the spiteful woman was after blackmail money or something.

  ‘I want you out of the village,’ Samantha replied, raking her with a scornful look. ‘I don’t like you and will destroy you because I want you to leave. I can, you know. I can do that. You can’t stop me. Nobody can. I shall keep waging a hate campaign against you until everyone despises you and you shall be forced to leave.’

  ‘For what? Pleasure? Will you feel proud of yourself for it? Will you consider yourself better than us? What do you hope to gain? You cannot just look at someone, claim that you don’t like them, and then start to destroy their lives for fun. How sick are you?’ Rosemary cried.

  To her horror, while she had been talking, more young women moved to stand behind her. Rosemary saw one of them out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at who it was only to mentally groan in dismay when she saw that all three women were friends of Samantha’s. She knew that they were because Samantha lived in a large house across the street from the shop. She was the daughter of a wealthy businessman although Rosemary had never heard what kind of business Samantha’s father was involved in. Rosemary had seen all three women visit Samantha frequently, and had often seen them scurrying around the village with their heads together.

  Obviously plotting how they were going to ruin me.

  ‘Why are you wasting time talking to her?’ One young woman asked Samantha. Lucy-Jo side-stepped around Rosemary and smirked at her spitefully as she said to her friend: ‘People will gossip, you know, Samantha. You don’t want to be seen with the likes of her.’

  Rosemary battled tears. Before she could think of something to say, the young woman who was closest, Margaret Flamson, stepped around her and began to walk away. As she moved to join her, Samantha Morton jammed her shoulder into Rosemary, knocking a startled Rosemary off the path and into the muddy puddle beside the kerb. The uneven surface of the cobbles on the road twisted Rosemary’s ankle, making her fall to her knees. The newly purchased contents of her basket scattered across the road and were immediately ruined.
In pain, Rosemary clutched her leg and sat in the dirt with her skirt soaked and her boots muddy. She battled tears as she watched the women chortle and throw her arrogant looks as they hurried away. Rosemary realised then just how dangerous her new enemy really was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ‘Are you all right?’

  Rosemary shivered when she heard a husky masculine voice above her. She tipped her head back to look up at him but couldn’t see the stranger standing on the path because of the thick veil of tears in her eyes. When she tried to swipe them away, Rosemary realised her hand was as dirty as the rest of her. She stared down at it for a moment before awkwardly trying to clamber to her feet.

  ‘Here, let me help you,’ Luke offered. He glared down the road at the group of spiteful women who were responsible for the young woman’s dishevelled state, but they were too far away for him to scold them. ‘Do you know them?’

  ‘Pardon?’ Rosemary gasped when she was suddenly hauled off the ground with an effortless ease that was shocking. All she could do was blink warily up at the tall, handsome stranger who had come to her rescue. It took her a moment to remember that he had just said something; asked her a question. ‘Yes, I know them, unfortunately,’ she admitted reluctantly as she slid a worried look at the women in question. Rosemary began to brush ineffectually at the moisture on her dress. ‘Thank you for your help by the way,’ she said with a miserable sniff.

  ‘You are most welcome,’ Luke replied with a sympathetic smile.

  Rosemary tried desperately to think of somewhere she could go so she could get herself under control. If she stayed where she was, she was going to cry her eyes out and most probably in front of this stranger.

  Then this handsome stranger is going to think that I have lost complete control of my faculties.