The Earl's Mission: Defiant Brides Book 4

by Jennifer Monroe

  Rachel sighed as she looked down at the simple dress that she wore. It was blue, perhaps even the same shade her mother’s had been that fateful day but lacking the shimmer and richness. However, it was the best dress Rachel owned, and she would not allow anyone to think less of her because of it. Hopefully the Earl would see it as such.

  Her plan was simple, yet she knew it would serve her well. She would accompany him to this Elford Estates and learn about the life she had never known. As her mother said a few nights earlier, she would be available to fall in love with some rich man. Secretly, she desired such an attachment, and without the pressures of working at the pub, she would be free to meet a kind man and perhaps one day marry him and give him children. The thought of a daughter warmed her heart, and she would love the child, be it a girl or a boy, with everything she had, to be the best mother she could be.

  With a heavy sigh, she grabbed the small case with the few clothes she owned in it and felt in the pocket of her dress for the small purse that held the bit of savings she had—only a few coins, really, but she was proud of having earned it herself. It would not be nearly enough to purchase more appropriate clothing before she reached Elford Estates, however. Perhaps she could ask the Earl if she might perform some sort of task in exchange for new clothes until she received her first allowance. She would not accept charity and had learned to never take anything on credit. Look what happened to her father.

  George, she meant. How strange to think that another man had been her father. She knew that George was not her real father, but she had known no other all her life that it never fully occurred to her that another man had been out there who was her real father, even if her mother had mentioned him when she was just a child. And now her real father was dead and she would never know him.

  She shook off the melancholy feelings. There was nothing to be done about it now. It had not been her doing, nor had she had any control over whether or not she knew her real father, so there was no sense in her allowing the weight of that to sit on her shoulders. It was not her burden to bear.

  It was nearly noon and the pub was quiet, as it had been as of late, with only two men in a far corner talking, a pint in front of each of them. Her mother was wiping off a now empty table and her father was washing an already clean glass.

  He looked up when she walked out and smiled. “You look as beautiful as ever, my darling,” her father said, walking over and kissing her on the cheek followed by a quick hug.

  “That you do,” her mother said, also kissing her cheek. Her hug was tighter and lasted much longer, but Rachel did not mind.

  “Thank you,” Rachel said when the hug ended. She studied her parents’ faces. Her heart swelled with love and her eyes teared up, but she blinked them back. She would be brave.

  “Now, now,” her mother said, patting Rachel’s arm. “No need for tears. You’re a lady now and you must promise you’ll always act like a lady.”

  Rachel nodded. “Yes, I promise,” she said with a weak smile. “I want you to know that I love you and will never forget what you’ve done for me. I hope I can make you proud.”

  Her father shook his head. “I know I speak for both of us, but you’ve already made us proud. You’ve grown into a strong and beautiful woman, sharp in mind and tongue.”

  Mildred gave George a soft slap on his arm. “Now, George, behave,” she said, though her tone was not admonishing. Then she turned back to Rachel. “He’s right, you know, so mind your temper…and that tongue. You’ve a wonderful opportunity for a life many can only dream of, so make the best of it.”

  Rachel nodded, though she could not imagine herself being anything like some of the women she had seen in the village with their stylish hats, their white gloves, and their upturned noses. She would never become like them if she had anything to do about it, at least with how she treated others.

  The front door of the pub opened behind Rachel and she closed her eyes and took a deep breath as she waited for the Earl to announce himself. She would not make him believe that she was waiting for him like some lovestruck woman, one who would have turned with great anticipation to see him walk through the door. No, she would not give him the satisfaction of knowing how much she anticipated this journey to Devon and her new life.

  “Ah, I see you made a decision,” a deep voice that sounded nothing like the Earl said, making Rachel turn so quickly, she almost dropped her case. Before her stood Jacob Down, his dark hair as unruly and unkempt as it had been only two days earlier. She had been so excited for the Earl to arrive, and so focused on not allowing him to know, she had completely forgotten about Jacob and his ultimatum.

  Her father stepped in front of her. “She’s not going with you,” George said. “I’ve got your money.” He reached into his pocket and produced a wad of notes, which Jacob immediately snatched out of his hand.

  Jacob silently counted the money and then glared at George. “Do you take me for a fool?” he snarled as he held the notes up in front of George’s nose. “There’s only forty pounds here. Where’s the other sixty?” Though they had dealt with all sorts in the pub, Jacob was by far the worst of the lot, and the fear in Mildred’s eyes matched Rachel’s, she was sure of it. This man had no scruples about him, and although he had never been found guilty of a murder, more than one had been attributed to him nonetheless. Rachel only hoped her father would not be next on his list.

  “I came for money or a wife,” Jacob said, so angry that spittle lined his lips, “and it looks like I’ll be takin’ a wife.”

  George went to speak but was silenced by a quick fist to his mouth that sent the heavier man crumpling to the ground. Mildred screamed and rushed to George’s side, but Rachel glared at the man, wishing her eyes were weapons. The men in the corner tried to make themselves look smaller, and Rachel shot them a look of disgust. However, when Jacob took a step toward her, what little courage she had felt flitted away like a feather in the wind. She quickly scanned the room, but there was no one there to help her and when she took a step behind her, the counter dug into her back.

  “Now,” Jacob said in a threateningly quiet voice, “you’re coming with me.” She took a step back and her back hit the counter behind her. He pressed his body against hers. “It’s time you perform your wifely duties.” Saliva gathered in the corners of his mouth and the lust in his eyes gave him the look of a madman. Rachel thought she would sick up every meal she had ever eaten. He was a vile, disgusting man, and as she caught a glimpse of her father still lying on the floor, his head in her mother’s lap as the woman cried over him, something inside her snapped.

  “That will never happen,” she said in a stiff tone. “Now, get your hands off me!” Her fingers tightened around each other as her hand balled into a fist. Without realizing what she was doing, she pulled back her arm and her fist struck him square in the jaw.

  What she had expected was to see him fall just as her father had. However, he barely flinched and his face went red. The words he spoke were sharp. “Now you’ve done it!” he shouted, spittle flying from his lips. He brought his hands up and wrapped his fingers around her neck. As his fingers tightened, she found breathing more and more difficult. She clawed at his hands, but he only tightened his grip even more. Stars formed in her vision and her lungs fought to draw in air, but none would come. She kicked at him, flung her arms out to gouge his eyes, but nothing she did made him loosen his grip on her throat.

  Her vision began to darken when, all of a sudden, Jacob’s hands pulled back. Rachel gulped in great amounts of air and she leaned over, her hands around her throat as she coughed and gasped.

  “Who do you bloody think you…?” Jacob shouted, but before he could finish his question, a heavy fist smashed into the man’s face. Rather than crumpling to the ground as George had, the man flew backward across the room and over the top of a table, which shattered beneath his weight. Jacob pulled himself to his knees. “You broke my nose!” he said, his voice muffled behind his hand as he held h
is nose, blood flowing between his fingers.

  Rachel looked up to find Lord Linfield glaring down at Jacob. “Look at me,” he ordered harshly. “Look at me or by God I will kill you where you lie.”

  Jacob looked up. The man lacked the threatening stance he had when he first entered, now looking cowed and broken. He opened his mouth as if to speak, but the Earl did not give him the opportunity to do so.

  “My name is Lord Joseph Linfield, Earl of Brunsford, and you have assaulted my friend and her parents. By right, I should have killed you, as I was fighting in their defense. Yet, I will not. Know this, however. If any harm comes to any of them throughout the rest of their lives, be it by you or by another, I will spend all my wealth and the last of my days hunting you down and then watch as you are tortured until you are unable to take your final breath. Do I make myself clear?”

  The man nodded and paled, and though he still cowed, he did not step down. “They own me sixty quid,” he whined. “I need that money.”

  Lord Linfield reached into his coat pocket and counted out a few notes. “This is all you will receive from them now or ever again. Call this debt settled for the destruction of their property caused by your foolhardiness.” He pulled the man up to his feet by the lapels of his coat and gave him a hard stare, so close the two almost touched noses. Then he shoved the wad of notes into the man’s pocket and pushed him toward the door. “Never show your face around here again, or it will be the end of you.”

  Jacob stumbled to the door without a single look behind him and was soon gone, the door slamming shut behind him.

  Rachel rushed over to hug her parents. Her father was once again on his feet, although he leaned on her mother considerably. A dark bruise was forming on his temple and his eye made him appear part raccoon, but otherwise he seemed well. “Are you all right?” Rachel asked. “Should I send for the doctor?”

  “No, my dear,” he father said. “I’m fine.”

  Rachel turned to Lord Linfield, who stood beside the counter where she had almost lost her life. “Thank you,” she said simply.

  He reached up and brushed his fingers where bruises had to be forming on her neck. “Are you well?” he asked.

  Her heart beat heavily against her chest as she gazed into his deep brown eyes. This man was a hero; he had saved her and her family. He could have done what the two men in the corner had done and kept away, but he did not, and for that she was forever grateful.

  “Yes, thank you,” she replied. He removed his hand and moved back a step, leaving her feeling breathless.

  “My Lord,” Mildred said beside her, “we’re in your debt.” She gave a curtsy, something Rachel had never witnessed from the woman before. However, it was not as if many lords or ladies spent any amount of time in the pub.

  “There have been enough debts to last a lifetime,” the Earl said. “Just remember, do not borrow money from men the likes of him.”

  Her parents nodded vigorously, and Rachel hoped they would take the man’s word to heart. Had she known beforehand their need had been so bad, she would have found some way, any way, to keep her father from doing business with Jacob Down.

  Rachel studied the man before her, truly studied him for the first time, and she took notice of the strong jawline, the straight nose, and his carefully waxed hair, all of which gave him a handsome appearance. The Earl was strong and very sure of himself, and she found a certain attraction to him.

  “Well, now that that is over, we must be on our way,” Lord Linfield said as if it had been an inconvenience. He looked at his pocket watch and sighed to reinforce this effect. “You have already made me late, and I do not like having my schedule altered.”

  His tone had gone from caring to annoyed in the matter of seconds and Rachel stared at him in shock. The cheek of the man! Here she had been assaulted, and he was more worried about some precious schedule? Where had the hero gone who stepped up to help her and her parents? Apparently, he had been replaced by this…this scoundrel before her. She had half a mind to tell him off, something her mother must have sensed, for the woman spoke up before Rachel could.

  “Very well, My Lord.” She handed Rachel her case and pushed her toward the door. “Yes, you really should be going.”

  Rachel gave her mother a confused look but did as the woman bade. Her shock was further tested when she stepped outside to see a grand carriage, white in color, on the street directly in front of the pub. Four white steeds whinnied to one another and stamped at the ground, clearly eager to be on their way.

  “Goodbye, love,” her mother said as she pulled Rachel into her arms. “You mind yourself.”

  Rachel nodded and then allowed her father to kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” he said. Rachel found his words to be strange; what would he have to be proud of her? She was on her way to a life she did not know to live in the house of a father she had never met. It did not take courage to do such a thing, but she accepted her father’s words nonetheless. She had many memories here with these two people she had grown to love and admire, and now she would create new memories in a new home. The thought still made her shiver, but she had no doubt she would learn to love it.

  “I prefer to not repeat myself,” Lord Linfield said sharply. “Now, come. We are now behind schedule as it is.”

  Taking one more swift moment to smile at her parents, Rachel climbed into the carriage and waited for Lord Linfield to sit in the seat across from her. She leaned out the window as the carriage pulled forward and waved at her parents. She did not stop waving until the carriage rounded a tall building and her parents, and her former life, were out of sight. She hoped that, one day, she would see them once again.

  Chapter Six

  The carriage meandered along as Joseph gazed out the window, the road thus far smooth and pleasant enough for such a remote area. He and Miss Cooper had left an hour earlier, and Joseph found himself still seething at the man who had accosted the young woman and her family. Rage as he had never known went through him, and if it were not for the fact that Miss Cooper had been present, he would have killed the man where he stood. However, the poor woman had seen enough violence for one day.

  It had taken him some time to calm his strained nerves, but that rage he had been feeling was now replaced by curiosity for the woman before him. At the moment, she was staring out the window, and he could not believe how beautiful she was with her hair as dark as coal and eyes such a blue as he had never seen before. How she had managed not to be married off by now he did not understand; however, he silently praised her parents for not allowing it to happen.

  His eyes continued their appraisal of her, stopping to admire the swell of her breasts. Even in her current state of dress, her body was alluring. Once he saw she had new gowns in the latest fashions and made from the best fabrics, how much more alluring she would be. If Joseph could convince this woman to marry him, he realized that having her on his arm at any social function would make him the most envied man of the ton. He could imagine the jealous gazes of the other women and the appreciative looks of the men! How they would wonder and gossip as to how he had acquired such a prize.

  Once they returned to Kellington and Elford Estates, Joseph would need to see that Miss Cooper had a lady’s maid, set up appointments to have a dressmaker go to the house to have the woman fitted for new dresses and gowns, and he would have to see to hiring the best, and most discrete, tutors. Her speech was not as poor as he had expected, but it still lacked the caliber of one who had been born into society. A speech coach would easily remedy that problem. As for her posture and how she held herself, being raised in a pub had not helped develop them appropriately. Even as she sat across from him, as beautiful as she was, she sat with her shoulders slumped and she nibbled at her nails. If he were to present her to society as she was now, even in the most exquisite gown and her hair drawn up in the latest style, she would appear a duck in a pond of swans.

  “Many men have looked at me as you are now and regretted
it,” Miss Cooper said. “If you know what is best for you, I’d advise you to move your gaze somewhere else.”

  Startled, Joseph pulled his eyes up to Miss Cooper’s face. “I was not staring at you, if that is what you are implying.” What he said was only a half-truth. He had not outrightly realized his eyes had stayed on her bosom, and he had to quell a laugh that while they had rested there, his mind had not taken the time to truly enjoy the sight.

  She raised a single eyebrow and gave him a stare that told him she knew he had lied, but she said nothing.

  He needed to change his tactics. Something about being around this woman made him be someone he was not. Or was it that he was being himself? Sometimes he was unsure as to who he really was. “I would prefer,” he continued, “you speak to me more respectfully. There is no need for brash behavior; after all, we are friends, are we not?”

  Now both of her eyebrows rose, almost to her hairline. “Friends? Is that what we are?”

  “But of course,” he replied with a smile. “Or I would at least like to believe so. I only have your best interests at heart. As I said when we spoke before, your father, that is, Mr. Templeton, was a dear friend. Thus, you would be my dear friend as his daughter.”

  She seemed to consider this for a moment and then said, “Very well. We can be friends.” He let out a breath he had not even realized he held, and then she spoke again. “So, how’ll this work, then?”

  He gazed at her absently. She really was a beautiful woman. Then he realized she had asked a question. “This?”

  “Yes,” she replied with what was a clear attempt to remain calm. “All that will happen once we arrive.”

  “Ah, you mean when we arrive at your father’s house?”

  She looked at him as if what she had said should have been obvious to him, and as he thought on it, he knew she was correct. What was it about this woman that had him not thinking clearly? If he had been in his right mind, he would have been in complete control of the situation, had already known the questions she would ask, and had the answers to those questions readily available. However, after only a short time confined together in the carriage, his mind was in a muddle.