Righteous Rumours (The Hero Next Door Series Book 4)

by Rebecca King

  Righteous

  Rumours

  The Hero Next Door Series

  Book Four

  by

  REBECCA KING

  © 2020 by Rebecca King

  The moral right of R L King to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. Legal action will be taken against organisations or individuals breaching international copyright laws.

  This book is a work of fiction.

  Names, characters, places, and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Collywomples

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  THE LOCAL HEROES SERIES (STAR ELITE)

  TUPPENCE

  SINS OF THE PAST

  OTHER BOOKS BY REBECCA KING

  CHAPTER ONE

  Geranium Snetterton ambled into the hallway and studied the towering pile of luggage beside the front door with growing concern. She struggled to control her impatience as she waited for her parents to leave. Upstairs, her mother, Regina, was moaning to Kitty, the family’s maid, about all the things she had to leave behind. Geranium shook her head in dismay and knew that if her mother didn’t finish packing soon it would be impossible for her to go anywhere because all the luggage was never going to fit on the carriage.

  ‘They have to leave soon,’ Geranium whispered.

  ‘What was that, dear?’ her mother asked as she descended the stairs.

  Geranium wandered over to the front door. She stared at the veritable mound of luggage piled high beside it and then at Kitty, who dropped two more bags at her feet.

  ‘Are you sure you don’t want to come with us, Geranium? I do think the journey will do you good. I mean, it is not right that you are alone in the house all by yourself,’ Regina gushed. ‘Do come with us. It isn’t too late for Kitty to pack your things.’

  Kitty, already flustered from the long list of chores she had completed that morning, rolled her eyes.

  Geranium struggled not to smile and shook her head at her mother. ‘No, mother. I have already told you that I have things to do here. Besides, I will only get in the way. I am far too young to be your companion, don’t you think?’

  ‘But I am sure Bessie will be delighted to see you,’ Regina pestered.

  ‘Leave her alone, Regina,’ her father grumbled as he stumbled down the stairs carrying a large pile of books.

  ‘Don’t tell me that you are taking all of those,’ Regina gasped when she saw them.

  Edward eyed the pile of travelling trunks before throwing a pointed look at his wife, but Regina was too busy shoving her curls into her elaborate hat to notice.

  ‘Leave the girl alone. She is more than capable of running this place without us, aren’t you, my dear?’ Edward beamed proudly at his pride and joy.

  Geranium, aware that she had an ally in her father, linked arms with him. ‘Of course, this house is not going to be the same without you, but I am sure I can manage. I have Mrs Turner next door if there is a problem, and Mr Renton across the street. Not only that but there is Mr Muldover at the end of the road I can call upon. There, you see, I am not going to be by myself, am I?’

  ‘You are such a dear,’ Regina gushed, patting the side of Geranium’s face with a fond smile. ‘But I do worry about you. You should be married by now and that is a fact.’

  ‘Don’t start that again,’ Geranium sighed. She looked at her father, silently seeking his support but he remained stoically silent and kept his gaze averted leaving her in no doubt he sided with her mother.

  With a disgusted sigh, Geranium slid her arm out of his and busied herself by opening the front door. She smiled at Anton, the coachman, who was standing on the top of the front steps.

  ‘Just see what you can do,’ she said softly to him when he gaped at the huge mound of luggage he had to try to fit onto the family’s carriage.

  ‘I will try, but the carriage is only so big,’ Anton muttered.

  ‘I told her not to take so much,’ Edward grumbled.

  ‘Oh, do please say you will come with us,’ Regina pressed one last time when the carriage was loaded, and she was about to depart. ‘We will be away for at least a month. I have never left you alone for that long. It isn’t right, I tell you. I don’t know what your father thought he was doing agreeing to allow you to stay here by yourself, I really don’t.’

  ‘Mother, I am three and twenty years old, not some addle brained chit. I can manage,’ Geranium snapped sharply. She was aware that her father was scowling as if he was now having second thoughts as well. Geranium knew that she had to get them both on their way before they changed their minds, and she found herself being taken with them whether she wanted to go or not.

  ‘Is everything secured, Anton?’ Geranium called to the coachman who nodded and bid a cheery farewell to a still flustered Kitty.

  ‘Aye, miss. We will see you soon enough,’ Anton replied, doffing his imaginary cap.

  ‘Goodbye, Mother. Father.’ Geranium busied herself pressing one final kiss to her parents’ cheeks before climbing the steps to the front door.

  With no other choice, Regina was left to climb aboard the carriage with her husband. Once seated, she leaned out of the window and waved a handkerchief as she sniffed tearfully at her daughter. Before she could call out another farewell, the carriage jerked and began to roll down the street.

  Geranium remained on the top step and waved until her arm ached and her cheeks hurt from having to smile for so long. Eventually, the carriage turned out of the road and disappeared. For a moment, all Geranium could do was savour the silence and bask in the brilliant morning sunshine.

  She wasn’t at all sure how she should feel about the forthcoming month now, especially given how painfully aware she was of the silence of the house behind her. She knew she was incredibly lucky that her parents had agreed that she could stay in the house by herself, but now that she was faced with the reality of living alone it was somewhat daunting.

  ‘Are you all right, miss?’ Kitty asked when Geranium didn’t immediately enter the house and close the door.

  Geranium jerked out of her thoughts and turned to smile at the maid. It was then that she saw him, a handsome stranger, riding down the street toward her. Her stomach fluttered nervously as she watched him smile at his friends who were all as dark and dangerous as each other. Despite his happy smile, there was something about the handsomest of the strangers that made Geranium deeply aware of him while at the same time a shiver of unease slithered down her spine. She wondered why she was so worried about that gentleman especially, and why she felt so drawn to him. Consequently, although politeness demanded that she shouldn’t stare, Geranium remained where she was and openly watched t
hem all.

  ‘Who is that?’ Kitty asked, eyeing the men over her shoulder.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Geranium whispered with growing concern.

  There was something about the intent way they studied each house they rode past that warned Geranium that the men were up to no good.

  ‘They are strangers around here, aren’t they?’

  ‘I think we would have noticed if they lived in the area, don’t you?’ Geranium whispered, although why she should feel the need to keep her voice down was beyond her. The men certainly wouldn’t be able to hear her over the noise of their horses’ hooves.

  Suddenly, the handsomest of the riders, the one who had captured her attention, turned to look straight at Geranium. He nodded once. It was a casual movement that was slow and measured, friendly even, but there was no smile. His gaze was cold. He looked at her so intently that Geranium had no doubt she had just been as assessed by him as the houses in the street had been scrutinised by his friends. She wished she had a shawl to gather around her and protect her from that probing look she suspected had already seen far too much.

  ‘What do you think they want?’ Kitty whispered, oblivious to what had just happened.

  ‘I don’t know, but it cannot be good,’ Geranium murmured.

  Deep inside, Geranium knew she had to be wary of the men. The last few moments had been the most curious she could remember experiencing, mostly because of the confusing emotions she had just felt.

  That’s because no man has ever shaken me as much as he has.

  It was so alarming that Geranium frowned after him as he rode past the house and continued unhindered down the street.

  ‘But he isn’t like all the rest.’ Geranium knew that with certainty after just one look from him.

  ‘My, they are handsome, in a sinister kind of way,’ Kitty drawled, peering around the door to watch them. ‘They look like cavalry officers.’

  ‘They aren’t soldiers,’ Geranium replied with certainty.

  ‘Who do you think they are then?’ Kitty pressed.

  ‘Trouble,’ Geranium muttered. Her breath hitched when the man who had nodded to her turned in his saddle to look back at her, as if he had heard what she had said.

  Their gazes met. Geranium felt something invisible create a link between them, which spanned the distance and inextricably bound them together. It was a ridiculous thing to think because nothing like that was possible, but something made Geranium feel connected to that stranger.

  ‘What do you think they are here for? Do you think they are magistrate’s men?’

  Geranium tore her gaze away from the stranger to look at Kitty. ‘I don’t know. They don’t look like the magistrate’s men, but I haven’t met many to know for sure. What I do know is that they aren’t Mr Wardle’s men. They are dangerous, though.’

  When the men had turned out of the road, Geranium reluctantly entered the house and closed the door. Her thoughts were troubled as she made her way to the garden room.

  ‘Would you like some pie, miss?’ Kitty called after her as she returned to the kitchen.

  ‘Yes, please, Kitty. On the terrace, I think.’ Once she stepped out onto the terrace, though, Geranium immediately became aware of the clattering of horses’ hooves getting closer. Alarmed, she hurried across the garden, to the wall at the far end of the property and peered at the narrow carriage track running along the back of the houses. Beyond it were fields bordering the Lynchgate estate with Lynchgate house just on the horizon.

  ‘You are visible, miss,’ Rupert, the family’s gardener warned.

  ‘Who do you think they are, Rupert?’ Geranium couldn’t see them yet, but knew they were using the carriage track. ‘They sound like the hunt.’

  ‘They certainly aren’t bothered about who knows they are here that’s for sure,’ Rupert muttered.

  Geranium looked at him. He nodded to Lynchgate House, just visible in the bottom of the valley. ‘They might have something to do with him.’ He hesitated as if he wanted to say something else but wasn’t sure what to tell her.

  ‘Go on,’ Geranium prompted.

  ‘They are just rumours, miss,’ Rupert mumbled, shoving the toe of his boot into a pile of dried leaves.

  ‘Tell me,’ Geranium pressed impatiently. ‘I want to know the gossip. Are they here for Lynchgate? Do they work for him? I heard my father mention it to Mother the other morning at the breakfast table. Rumour has it that he – Lynchgate – has been stealing from the workhouse. Is it true?’

  Rupert shrugged. ‘The rumours are that they are all at it; that the entire governing board are up to their necks in thievery there, and the guards are being paid a lot to keep quiet about what they see. There are some that’s saying that the recent deaths of the occupants are suspicious.’

  Geranium’s eyes widened. ‘Murder?’ she whispered in horror.

  Rupert nodded. ‘I wouldn’t be at all surprised if the strangers are not magistrate’s men but something to do with what’s going on in that workhouse. Hush now, they are here, look.’

  Geranium’s stomach fluttered nervously as she turned to look at the approaching riders. When they appeared, Geranium instinctively stepped backward until her shoulders touched the thick trunk of an old oak tree. She hoped the overhanging branches protected her from their view.

  ‘Move around here, miss. Then they won’t see you,’ Rupert suggested, waving to the other side of the thick trunk.

  Geranium hurried to stand beside him just as the first rider looked over the wall into her garden. He was studying the backs of the houses and gardens as if looking for something.

  Or trying to decide which houses to break into.

  His colleagues, however, were looking at Lynchgate House but their conversation was too hushed for her to hear what was being said. When Rupert nudged her, as if reminding her about what he had just said about them having something to do with Lynchgate, Geranium nodded slowly.

  ‘Has Mr Quinton returned home yet?’ Geranium whispered.

  Mr Quinton had suddenly left for his sister’s one day several weeks ago and hadn’t returned.

  ‘Rumour has it that he isn’t coming back. He has decided to sell the place,’ Rupert whispered with a nod to the strangers. ‘I hope they aren’t going to buy it.’

  Together, he and Geranium watched the men enter Mr Quinton’s garden and dismount beside the stable block.

  ‘They know where they are going,’ Geranium murmured. ‘I wonder what they are up to?’

  Rupert threw her a worried look. ‘It isn’t any of our business, miss. Whatever it is they are up to isn’t any good given how burly they look. Did you see the guns on them? Riders don’t go about that heavily armed without a purpose.’

  Geranium hadn’t seen the guns because she had been staring at the man who had nodded to her. He stood out amongst the others as the most intriguing because he was the most handsome. While his hat had shielded most of his face, Geranium had seen enough of him to know that he had a sharp jawline, high cheekbones, and the most luscious pair of piercing blue eyes she had ever seen on a man. More disturbingly, he had an altogether mesmerising presence about him that was distracting.

  ‘I want to know what he is doing here,’ Geranium announced once the men had disappeared into Mr Quinton’s house. ‘Moreover, what they are all doing over there. Has anybody heard from Mr Quinton? Do you think we should alert the magistrate that they are in his house? Do you think they have Mr Quinton’s permission to be there?’

  ‘It isn’t any of our business, miss,’ Rupert mumbled with a frown. ‘I mean, they might have permission to be there and won’t thank us for being nosy.’

  ‘But what if they are up to no good? Don’t we have a moral duty to keep an eye on strange people in the area? I mean, what are those strangers doing here with guns? Did you see the fine cut of their clothing? It must have cost a fortune. If they were titled or wealthy, wouldn’t they have gone to Lynchgate’s house or an aristocrat’s hunting lodge somewhere? Wh
y would they go to Mr Quinton’s rather humble house?’ Despite her questions, Geranium knew Rupert didn’t have the answers. They lay at Mr Quinton’s house, with the men who had just arrived there.

  ‘I’d stay out of it, miss,’ Rupert growled. ‘If they are up to no good, they aren’t going to appreciate a young lady such as yourself meddling in their business, miss.’

  ‘Well, I don’t intend to go stomping in there demanding to know what they are doing,’ Geranium blustered.

  No. I am going to be far more cunning than that.

  With plans beginning to form in the back of her mind, Geranium threw one last careful look at the now closed gates to Mr Quinton’s yard, and reluctantly returned to the terrace. Her wine was warm and her pie cold, but she didn’t care. Her thoughts lay beyond refreshments, and the pleasure of sitting in the flower laden, neatly tended garden. They were locked on the man who had captured her interest. She was going to find out all about him, or her name was not Geranium Snetterton.

  CHAPTER TWO

  ‘Well, that was interesting,’ Roger murmured ruefully as he dismounted. ‘I feel as if I have had every inch of my body personally assessed, judged, and found wanting. Do you think we are going to have an unruly mob of vigilantes on the doorstep demanding we leave at once?’

  ‘I think we are in the wrong house,’ Ronan growled. ‘We don’t stand a bloody prayer of using this house to get out and about without being watched by curious neighbours. Did you see that young woman? She couldn’t stop staring at us.’

  Daniel grinned. ‘She is piss poor at hiding. That pink dress of hers stood out amongst the greenery like a beacon. She is pretty, though.’

  ‘Ahem,’ Roger scowled. ‘Might I remind you that you left a very delightful young woman settling into your future marital home only yesterday? A woman you professed to love in front of all of us as well, by the way?’

  Daniel’s grin widened. ‘I do indeed remember my future wife. She is adorable.’