Under the Seductive Lady's Charm: A Historical Regency Romance Book

by Henrietta Harding

  “Thank you very much, Mr Ollerton, Sir Ollerton,” the boy said.

  He wasn’t shivering anymore and had the empty bowl in his hand.

  “No, thank you, Earl. You helped my father find me,” Isaac said.

  Earl smiled and bowed again. Isaac smiled as his father patted the boy on the shoulder before the boy turned and started to walk back to the doorway. Isaac looked back in front. If Mary had seen Earl approach them, she gave no sign.

  “I don’t think it had much to do with the quality of spies we use. It’s the character of the man. He’s a very smart man and is making me look somewhat foolish. There have only been claims of his thieving from the purse of the count and his involvement in the importation of illegal items, but there has been no concrete evidence pointing to this. All of the accounting is processed by his office before submission to the High Regent. There is no possibility of detecting anything.”

  His father stopped to look around once again, to ensure that no one could hear what he was saying.

  “Another unsavoury part of this episode is that the only man who was willing to stand as a witness against him is now dead.”

  “His former Right-hand man?”

  “Yes, he’s been ill for quite some time now and couldn’t quite make it,” Sir Ollerton said.

  Isaac shook his head and rubbed his hand on his forehead.

  “All this news is really quite depressing,” Isaac commented.

  “I agree. I’d love to have something strong now. I really could use it,” Sir Ollerton said.

  He signalled to the barmaid. Her eyes caught the flicking motion of his hand, and she approached them. As she came closer, Isaac saw a glimmer of light that got caught in her eyes. It quite clearly showed him the colour of her eyes. They were brown, kind, dog brown eyes. Isaac smiled benignly. Her eyes were the same colour as his.

  “We’ll have a measure of brandy each,” Sir Ollerton said.

  She nodded and walked to the shelf.

  “We have already made our way here. We could as well make good use of the time we spend here,” Sir Ollerton said.

  Isaac smiled. His father was right.

  “So what do we do now?” Isaac asked.

  “About the Lord?”

  Isaac nodded.

  “We wait, Son. If we can wait long enough, we will find a way,” Sir Ollerton said.

  “There is a very good possibility that the Lord is involved in even more crimes than those you already know of,” Isaac said.

  His father nodded. He picked up his hat, which had dripped most of its water off and waved it in the air. Some drops of water flew off the hat and into Isaac’s face, but they were very minute, so Isaac cleaned them off with one swipe of his hand.

  “He’s a malevolent character, that man.”

  The cups dropped in front of them with a soft thud. Both men raised their heads, surprised with the sudden clatter. None of them had seen Mary approach with the cups.

  “Did I startle you? I’m sorry. I didn’t quite mean to,” Mary apologised.

  “No, do not bother. You’ve done nothing wrong,” Isaac answered.

  She smiled and went back to what she was doing. Isaac noted the pinkness of her lower lip. It was slightly smaller than the upper one. It was also deliciously attractive.

  “What do you ponder upon?”

  Isaac turned to face his father. He raised the cup of brandy to his mouth to shield his eyes from his father’s gaze. He couldn’t possibly tell his father that he had been thinking about the beautiful barmaid who just served them. His father would blanch. The man had recently been suggesting to Isaac to strike up a relationship with the High Regent’s daughter. Isaac found her only mildly interesting. There was a long distance from the status of a High Regent’s daughter to the lowly status of a common barmaid.

  “Nothing, Father, only the difficulties faced in this case,” Isaac answered.

  His father nodded. Isaac suspected the man didn’t quite believe that lie. They both took sips from their cups. Isaac felt the hot liquid burn over his tongue and flow slowly through his throat, spread around his chest, and then settle in the pit of his belly. The sensation was warm like a small fire had been lit inside him and was consequently warming him up. Isaac took another sip, a smaller one, but he did it to keep the warmth flowing.

  “There are only two ways of getting this man.”

  “Whatever way it is, the High Regent wants it to be ironclad when we catch him. He wants there to be no possible defence for him,” Isaac’s father said.

  Isaac nodded.

  “The more unlikely way is that we get one of the Lord’s close workers to turn on him. Someone like his new Right-hand man,” Isaac suggested.

  “We’ve tried that severally, son. This man fosters incredible loyalty.”

  “Or these workers also make huge gains off the illegality and therefore find no reason to stop it,” Isaac added.

  Sir Ollerton nodded. He was in obvious agreement.

  “Or if we can find someone that can find a way to wiggle himself into the inner caucus of this man,” Isaac said.

  His father took another sip from the cup of brandy in his hand. He looked to have taken too much because he grimaced before replying,“We have tried that many times. This man lets no one in.”

  “Or we’ve not found a man good enough,” Isaac said.

  His father shook his head. This time, he was in obvious disagreement.

  “Some men realise the amount of danger in the actions they take and therefore take all precautions to prevent the appearance of any loophole. This man is such. I don’t think sending a man to try to wiggle himself into his court will work.”

  Isaac nodded. He didn’t like the realization, but he feared his father was speaking the truth. Isaac tried to pacify himself with another sip of the warm brandy but raised the cup to his mouth to find it empty. He dropped it with a noisy clatter, slightly annoyed at the speed with which the drink finished. His father eyed him with an understanding look.

  “Hello,” Sir Ollerton called to the barmaid.

  She raised her head and moved closer to them.

  “Sorry, what’s your name? I don’t want to keep saying hello or waving unnecessarily,” he said.

  “Mary, her name is Mary,” Isaac rapidly answered.

  His answer drew surprised stares from both his father and Mary. Isaac realised the error in his rapid blurt and attempted to save his face.

  “I heard when the man at the other end called her,” he quickly added.

  His father nodded and turned back to the barmaid who had a far bigger smile than she had worn since Isaac entered the tavern.

  “Bring us two more measures, Miss Mary,” he said.

  Mary nodded and took their empty cups away. Sir Ollerton was focusing on his hat and pulling out a small fibre, so Isaac cast furtive glances at Mary. She was gazing at him too and smiled wider when their eyes met. She dropped her gaze back to the drinks in her hand and started to make her way back to them.

  “Thank you,” Sir Ollerton said.

  “Thank you,” Isaac also said, despite how reluctant his tongue was to speak.

  Both men cradled their drinks in their hands and kept mute. Each one satisfied with his busy thoughts and the feel of the warm liquid that was intermittently passed down their throats. There was a sudden noise from behind them, and both looked back. Someone had just come in, and he had blasted the door open. He was a popular figure because there were a lot of jeers as he came in. The rain still beat down hard, and Isaac supposed that he and his father might find themselves spending much more time at the tavern.

  “So what do we do?” Isaac finally asked, bringing them back to the matter he knew both were thinking about but didn’t want to speak of.

  “I don’t know, Son. I don’t know.”

  Isaac sighed. He took another sip for lack of something else to do.

  “I think I might have met my match,” Sir Ollerton said.

  Isaac
looked at his father. He doubted that. He had known Sir Ollerton all his life, and the man had never met a case he couldn’t crack. He did see the strain of this case on his father.

  The man had four permanent creases on his forehead that became deep wrinkles whenever he smiled or frowned. There hadn’t always been grey streaks in his moustache, but those had slowly become a mainstay as the years went by. His hair was brown, and thinning rapidly, but Isaac never thought of his father as balding. It sounded a denigrating feature for a man so regal. His face had deep pits and depressions where tufts of beards grew, but that didn’t depreciate from his pleasing appearance. At fifty-seven years of age, Sir Francis Ollerton was still strikingly handsome.

  The good life of working with Regency and a great avoidance of stress found in places like this must have helped a lot.

  This thought made Isaac attempt to think about how Mary, the barmaid, would appear had she been high born. She had a natural carriage and poise that oozed proper culturing, along with a beautiful face that caught attention.

  “She would be sought after by all and sundry,” Isaac muttered under his breath.

  His father’s eyes flew to him but quickly returned to the cup in front of him. Isaac looked outside and noticed that the rain was beginning to lessen. It would soon be time that they left here and went home. Mary came back to stand in front of them but was bending over. She looked like she was back to what she had been writing before.

  “So we have no proof, no insider, and no man that can possibly infiltrate. All we have are bogus claims of this man’s possible crimes,” Isaac said.

  His father nodded sadly. They didn’t have anything.

  “What about a woman?”

  Isaac and Sir Ollerton started and raised their heads. It was Mary that had spoken, but she was still looking down at what she was doing, and they weren’t sure she had been talking to them.

  Who else could she be speaking to?

  “Were you speaking to us, Miss Mary?” Sir Ollerton asked.

  Mary lifted her eyes and met Isaac’s father’s gaze.

  “Yes, Mr…”

  “Sir Ollerton, Sir Francis Ollerton,” he said.

  Isaac noted her eyes widen in admiration on her discovery that his father was a knight.

  “Yes, I was speaking to you, Sir Ollerton.” She admired him but was not fazed by his status. She still offered the same cool gaze.

  “I do not understand,” Sir Ollerton said.

  Mary nodded.

  “I’m sorry if seems I’ve been eavesdropping, but I’ve been working here, and I could not but hear your discussion since you’ve come. I think you would find a woman a better infiltrator than a man. No one pays attention to women. I would have suggested servants, but I presume this man keeps important information away from servants.”

  Alarm flared in Isaac, and he could see the same thing in his father’s eyes. This was a matter of utmost secrecy, and a common barmaid had been able to glean information from everything they had been saying. Isaac saw his father turn to look at him. The man didn’t know what to say.

  “Thank you for your advice, Miss Mary. I think it’s a bright one,” Isaac said.

  “Yes, thank you. We are done here. How much is our bill?” Sir Ollerton rapidly said.

  Isaac looked through the open window at the other end of the room and noted that the rain had stopped. He couldn’t tell if there was still a slight drizzle coming down, but they would surely be able to go home in this weather.

  He turned to look again at Mary as she took their cups away. He doubted that she would go around saying all she heard to people. She didn’t look to be such a chatterbox or one for word on the dit. But their action was not unfounded. This wasn’t a matter that was meant to be overheard by barmaids. This was no ordinary barmaid though. As to that, he was assured. His father rapidly paid their bill, and they made their way to the exit. Just before Isaac stepped out, he looked out to see Mary watching them as they left.

  “Goodbye, Mr Ollerton,” Earl said as they walked past him.

  Isaac waved to the boy and stepped out. Wordlessly, they both mounted their horses and started the slow ride home. Isaac turned back to look at the tavern. He had a premonition that this wouldn’t be the last time he would be here.

  Chapter 2

  The oddness of the rapid exit of the old knight and the younger man, who had to be his son, never occurred to Mary again till she was done with the day’s work and was in the privacy of her small cabin. She had been summoned by a customer on another table just as they were stepping out and had gone straight to attend to him.

  Then, Madame Mackle, the owner of the tavern and her employer, had arrived from where she went. Madame Mackle had managed to complicate things for Mary when she arrived, getting her to start cleaning the kitchen even while men still ordered drinks. Mary was not surprised by the actions of her boss. She was used to it. Madame Mackle always made things harder, not easier.

  “Why aren’t the potatoes already prepared?” Madame Mackle screamed when she entered the kitchen.

  Mary was carrying a tray of full cups and could not answer immediately. She quickly took the tray to the customers and was rushing back when she heard her name screamed from the kitchen.

  “Mary!”

  Mary walked quickly behind the counter and through the door that led into the kitchen. Madame Mackle looked incensed, and her veins stood out from her neck.

  “Why didn’t you answer?”

  “I was attending to someone, ma’am.”

  “You’re always attending to someone,” Madame Mackle said with as much spite as she could muster.

  Mary, meanwhile, noted how true the statement was despite that it was aimed as a jibe.

  “Come here this moment and prepare these potatoes. Aren’t we going to eat dinner tonight? Or do you want to have me prepare dinner for you and your daughter?”

  Mary had given no response and immediately started peeling the tubers. She would leave the roots to serve and take away empty cups, collect money, and serve soup whenever a customer needed it, and then rush back to it. All the while, Madame Mackle sat on the chair behind the counter, watching. When it was late in the evening, she went upstairs into her bedroom, ordering Mary to clean up the entire tavern and kitchen before she went to sleep that night. Immediately she left, Mary went into the kitchen and scooped a serving of soup for her daughter. She went into the door to the left of the kitchen and took the shortcut to the back of the tavern. Her cabin was a one-room structure, separated from the rest of the building. Mary went to the door and knocked.

  “Who’s there?” a small voice answered from within.

  “It’s me. Please open, Rebecca.”

  The door opened to reveal a small girl with her mother’s eyes but a wider brow and bolder mouth.

  “Mama,” Rebecca said and moved closer to wrap her small arms around Mary’s legs.

  “Now be a darling and let mama pass. You know I have to get back to work,” Mary said.

  Rebecca left her legs and allowed her mother to come into the small room. It was a room of bare furnishings: a straw bed, a rickety chair, and a mat. Their clothes were folded, or placed in a heap at the left end of the room, if dirty. Mary and her daughter had a few coats, and those were the only clothes she hung. There was a single window into the room, but it was closed. Mary had closed it when she came just before the rain started. Rebecca had been asleep then, and Mary deemed it better to let her sleeping daughter be.

  “I’ve brought dinner,” Mary told her and placed the bowl on the floor.

  “Thank you, Mother. I was famished,” Rebecca told her.

  Mary smiled. Her lessons were starting to take effect on Rebecca. She was starting to use words like ‘famished.’

  “I need to go now, Rebecca,” Mary said, getting back to her feet.

  Rebecca’s eyes looked up, and she paused eating despite just claiming she was famished.

  “Can I come after I’m done with my
meal?”

  Mary frowned. Normally she prevented her daughter from making appearances at the tavern except in situations where it could not be avoided. But night was approaching, and most of the men had left. By the time Rebecca was done, the tavern might as well be empty. She could very well be the only one left in there.

  “All right, you can come. But make sure to wear your coat, dear. It’s cold outside, and I wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”