Cora had begun to fill the hole that had been left in Brynne’s heart when her mother had died. And Brynne loved being with Jake’s family, in the home where he’d grown up.
“The choice of your staff is of the utmost importance,” Cora said, breaking into Brynne’s reverie. “You said most of the staff is already in place?”
“Yes, the cook, kitchen staff, and household maids have been retained. There were a few who’d chosen to leave, but the cook had a niece looking for a position and one of the maids had a sister…”
“Good, very good. And the housekeeper?”
“Mrs. Krause. She’s agreed to stay on as well. The old butler was finding his duties a bit taxing but will stay on in another capacity, so I’ll need to find a new one. I have several appointments set up already.”
“A good butler is hard to come by, but I do know of one or two that are available, or can be bribed away from their current situations if your appointments don’t pan out,” Cora said with a conspiratorial wink.
“Perhaps I can lure Mr. Peterson away from you,” Brynne teased.
“Oh, I have no doubt that you could. Or Coraline could, in any case. One bat of those beautiful little eyes and Peterson will be packing his bags and high-tailing it to Cherry Hill Street.”
The staff at her in-law’s had been, for the most part, welcoming and friendly. Mr. Peterson had been a tough nut to crack. He got on well with Brynne now, and adored Coraline as much as the rest of the household. But he’d disapproved of Brynne’s independence and less-than-refined ways, especially her penchant for riding astride. He’d have a fair epileptic fit if he knew how she’d spent most of her time on horseback in California. If he regarded galloping through the park as scandalous, he’d never recover from the knowledge that Brynne had spent years behind a black bandana, raiding not-so-innocent victims of their ill-gotten gains as one of the notorious Blood Blade’s band of thieves.
How times have changed.
“When will you be leaving?” Cora asked with a slight hitch in her voice.
“I purchased the house fully furnished, so it is really only a matter of moving our personal belongings. I thought sometime this week…”
Cora nodded. “Well, we’ll miss having you here, to be sure. But I wish you much happiness in your new home.”
Brynne gave her mother-in-law a hug, glad that her news had been received so well. She should have known her mother-in-law would make it easy on her. She’d been smoothing the way for Brynne ever since she’d arrived in Boston. Brynne hoped she’d be able to repay the older woman someday. Or at the very least, not let her down.
Chapter Four
Richard climbed down from the carriage and dragged himself into the clinic. It had been a miserably long day. Though, one interesting development had arisen from it. Mrs. Brynne Forrester. She was an absolute mystery. And a beautiful one at that.
When she’d shown up at his clinic, he’d assumed she was like all the other bored ladies who had wandered through his door. They all wanted to either escape from their over-indulged lives in a perhaps genuine, but misguided, attempt to walk on the dodgy side for a bit. Or they wanted to gain his favor by feigning interest in his work. Both were a huge waste of everyone’s time.
But Mrs. Forrester had proven to be a surprise. She hadn’t been lying when she’d said she had medical experience. How she had gained such experience was one of many things he wanted to discover about her. She looked like all the other genteel, refined ladies he knew, but he suspected there was a lot more to her smoldering under the surface, something much more wild and free than anything he’d ever come across before. His lips still twitched every time the phrase “backdoor trots” crossed his mind.
For the first time in his life, he was genuinely interested in getting to know a woman a little better. More than that. He was bound and determined to unearth all of the beautiful Mrs. Forrester’s secrets.
He entered the clinic and headed straight up the stairs, dodging Mrs. Birch. He was too tired to deal with her. She had an even worse opinion of the ladies who tried to use the clinic to catch his attention than he did, and he didn’t have the energy to talk her into accepting Mrs. Forrester graciously. He’d have to speak to her before Mrs. Forrester’s arrival Monday or things could get ugly.
Mrs. Birch was a wonderful housekeeper and managed to keep things running smoothly at the clinic as well. And he appreciated her protectiveness toward him. But it was trying at times.
When he reached his rooms, he kicked off his shoes and stripped, tossing his clothing to his waiting butler. Of course, butler was rather a broad term for all the jobs Mr. Chasely handled. He was butler, clinic administrator, valet, and anything else Richard needed him for.
Richard kept a strange household. Four days a week, his home served as a medical clinic for the community, especially for those who were unable or unwilling to go to the hospital. He also kept a few beds for those he needed to keep an eye on. But for the most part, once clinic hours ended, it was only him and his staff in the building.
The upper floors were reserved as his private residence, and Mrs. Birch ran them with the same efficiency she ran the clinic. Everything was clean, tidy, and well organized. And heaven help the person who disrupted Mrs. Birch’s tightly run ship. Richard had only just met the lovely Brynne Forrester, but he had the feeling she was the type who caused disruption wherever she went. Not through any deliberate action of her own, of course, but simply by being who she was.
Chasely scooped up the rest of Richard’s clothes and draped them over his arm. “Will there be anything else tonight, sir?”
“No, Chasely, that will be all.” Richard absentmindedly took a swig of the brandy that Chasely had left on his bedside table. “Actually, what can you tell me about Mrs. Brynne Forrester?”
“Oh, I suspect I know about as much as anyone, sir.”
Richard doubted that. Servants tended to be insanely well informed about anything having to do with their employers, and Chasely was even more informed than most. Richard paid him well to be sure of it.
“And what does everyone know about her?”
“She’s from out west, California, where she and her sisters own a ranch and a rather profitable gold mine.”
Richard’s eyebrows rose at that. “What of her late husband?”
“Jacob Forrester, son of Mr. Edward and Mrs. Cora Forrester.”
“Was he the one who went off adventuring and never came back?”
“So to speak, sir. I believe he tried his hand at bounty hunting for a time, or some such profession. No one is quite sure how he came to know Mrs. Forrester, but his family lost all contact with him soon after he informed them of his intentions toward her. His brother, Leonardo, went out to find him and is now married to Mrs. Forrester’s sister.”
Well, now, that was interesting. Both Forrester boys marrying sisters. Must be quite a family.
“How did her husband die?”
“They say he was murdered, although the Forresters took care to keep the more sordid details from the papers.”
“And now she lives here with the Forresters.”
“The renovations on her own residence were completed recently and she’s been busy retaining staff to run it. Mrs. Birch’s nephew has applied for a position there.”
“She’ll be living there alone?” Richard was surprised. It wasn’t unheard of, of course, for a widow to live alone. But since she hadn’t had her own household here to start with, it was a bit odd that she’d choose to live on her own.
“Not entirely alone, no sir. Her younger sister will most likely be living with her. And her daughter, of course.”
“She has a daughter?”
“Yes, sir.”
A widow alone with her child, whose husband had been murdered. Who moved all the way across the country to live with in-laws she’d never met, and who was now setting up her own household. The woman had gumption, that was for certain.
Chasely said goodnigh
t and excused himself. Richard barely heard him leave. His mind was on Mrs. Forrester. Brynne. The way her deep brown eyes flashed when he’d said something to anger her. Her determination to get her way. Her soft voice as she’d spoken to the frightened boy she’d helped with the hands of a person who was no stranger to blood and trauma. Who was this woman who had walked into his life?
Richard couldn’t wait to find out.
…
Brynne held the letter in trembling hands, not reading it but staring at the way the letters scrawled across the page. Jake’s handwriting.
She looked up at the man who had brought it to her. A man she hadn’t seen in several years and never dreamed she’d see again. Mr. Finnegan Taggert sat across from her, his hat in his hands. He held himself proudly, but the way he twisted his hat around and around betrayed his nervousness. He had a right to be anxious. Brynne suspected he hadn’t been well received at any of the other households in Boston.
He was handsome enough, very handsome actually. But few would see it through the tattoos that marked his face. Several lines extended from beneath his lower lip down his chin, but it was the T shaped markings under his cheekbones that had made Brynne’s eyes raise when she’d first met him two years ago; and she’d been used to seeing strange people and sights.
Mr. Taggart noticed her staring and stood. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t have come. I’ll see myself out.”
“Oh no, please, Mr. Taggart,” Brynne said, standing as well. “Please, stay.”
Mr. Taggart took his seat again and resumed his hat twisting.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Taggart. I’m being unforgivably rude. It’s only…I never thought I’d see you again, since the last time I saw you was when…when…”
“When I performed the marriage ceremony for you and Jake.”
To her utter embarrassment, tears filled her eyes and raised a lump in her throat. She’d hoped she was past such moments catching her unawares. It had been so long. But the sight of Mr. Taggart brought the memory of that wedding day rushing back.
She and Jake had loved each other so much. They couldn’t wait long enough for the town preacher to get back from his travels to marry them. When Mr. Taggart, an old friend of Jake’s, had come calling, it had seemed like a godsend. An Irishman who had become a member of the Mohave tribe, he had offered to marry them according to Mohave custom. They had viewed it as a type of hand fasting. They knew their union wouldn’t be legal, but in their eyes, it had been binding, and the legality issue could have been taken care of when the preacher returned. Only Jake hadn’t lived that long.
Lucy entered the room while Brynne was trying to compose herself. “Brynne, you must see my dress for the ball. It was just delivered, and it’s the most beautiful…oh.” Lucy stopped short and stared at Mr. Taggart. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you had company.”
Brynne made a supreme effort to pull herself together. “Lucy, this is Mr. Finnegan Taggart. He was a friend of Jake’s. The one who married us, in fact.”
Lucy’s eyes grew wide and she gave Mr. Taggart a little head bob. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Taggart.”
“The pleasure is mine, Miss Lucy.”
Lucy remained frozen, her gaze never leaving his face. Her fascination began stretching into ill-mannered territory and Brynne cleared her throat to get Lucy’s attention. Lucy blinked, a delicate blush staining her cheeks. “I apologize, Mr. Taggart. It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen tribal markings.”
His eyebrows rose a notch. “You recognize the marks?”
“Yes. We grew up farther north than the Mohave territories, but we still met quite a few.” Lucy’s eyes focused on the T-shaped marks on his cheeks. “You were an important man in the tribe.”
Surprise flared again in his eyes. He didn’t answer for a moment and then nodded once. “At one time, yes. But that was long ago.”
His tone left no room for more questions though Brynne could tell Lucy was dying to know what had happened to this man. She was curious as well. She’d only met him the once, and at the time, had been more interested in her marriage and new husband than the curious man who had bound them together. Mr. Taggart was obviously not Mohave by birth. How had he come to not only be accepted enough into their tribe to be tattooed, but to bear the markings only the most important men of the tribe wore?
Lucy still hadn’t pulled her gaze from Mr. Taggart, who was returning her regard with amused interest.
“Lucy,” Brynne said, “would you mind checking on my gown? Beth should be airing it out.”
Lucy reluctantly turned from Mr. Taggart. “Of course.”
She left the room, tossing a last gaze over her shoulder before she closed the door.
Brynne turned her attention back to the letter in her hands. “Jake speaks highly of you here.” She was glad her voice broke only slightly on her late husband’s name. She didn’t think life without him would ever get easier, but she did hope to be able to speak of him someday without her emotions coating her words. “He never told me how the two of you met.”
“Ah, well, that is quite a long story. You knew your husband’s profession before he became a ranch hand on your property?”
Brynne nodded. Jake, much to his affluent Bostonian family’s dismay, had longed for more adventure than a Harvard education could gain for him and had sought excitement out west. After a series of odd jobs, he had found his calling…as a bounty hunter. It was how they’d met, in fact. Jake had been after the bandit Blood Blade and his gang. He’d had no idea that the young rancher he had started working for in order to gain information was actually part of the bandit’s band. A band run by Brynne’s middle sister, Priscilla. By the time he’d found out, he’d been too in love with Brynne to turn her in. And once he’d understood the reasons behind their activities, he’d believed enough in their cause to join them himself.
“Were you one of the men he worked with? Or one of the men he’d been paid to find?” Brynne asked.
Mr. Taggart actually blushed. “One of the latter, I’m afraid. The circumstances behind it were all a big misunderstanding. Once Jake knew my story, he let me go.”
“You will have to tell me that story sometime, Mr. Taggart.”
“Sometime,” he said, a small, sad smile tugging at his lips. “Anyhow, I worked with him for a time, and once we parted ways, we kept in touch, even after I left for England. He gave me that letter to use as references should I ever be in need of employment. Which, as you are aware, I am now.”
“Yes,” Brynne said, reluctantly putting away the letter from her husband and pulling out Mr. Taggart’s other references. “These are certainly impressive recommendations. You worked for an actual duke?”
“Yes. Truthfully, his lordship was a bit of an odd bird, even by my standards. I started out as more of an exotic addition to his collection of oddities, but I found that I was actually rather good at running his household and I enjoyed the work. I oversaw both his familial estate and his London residence.”
“That’s unusual, is it not?”
“It is, and it was a bit of a hardship for me. But his lordship would have no one but me in charge of his households.”
Mr. Taggart’s pride in both his work and his previous employer’s faith in him was evident, as was his fondness for the old duke.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why did you leave his employ?”
His face hardened, the tattoos making him look quite fierce. “The duke passed away. His family didn’t see fit to retain my services.”
Brynne could understand their actions, though the longer she spent in his presence, the more she liked him. A wave of pity for him filled her and she dropped her gaze, knowing he would not welcome such an emotion from her.
“When he knew he wouldn’t recover, his lordship made sure I had his recommendations to take with me. However, I thought I might have better luck here than in Britain.”
His tone didn’t sound confident and Brynne could imagine what his
experiences had been like thus far. She’d be surprised if he’d even made it past the door of any of his previous interviews.
She wavered for a moment. She generally had fairly good instincts about people and Mr. Taggart struck her as someone she could trust. He definitely had glowing references, and even her mother-in-law would be impressed with a butler who’d served an actual duke. However, one look at the man would send the elder Mrs. Forrester straight to bed for a month.
But he’d known Jake. Been his friend. Had officiated at their marriage ceremony. And he’d never find a position anywhere else.
“Well, Mr. Taggart….” The man’s face had already taken on a resigned look that made Brynne’s heart clench in a protective, almost motherly way. “I would be pleased to have you join my household, if you’d like to accept the position.”
His relief lent a softness to his face that gave Brynne a peek at what he might have been like before the experiences that led to the tattooing of his face, and the reason behind his leaving the tribe.
“I would be happy to, Mrs. Forrester.”
“Excellent. Well, we can work out all the details later. For now, why don’t we have Mrs. Krause show you to your room and you can get settled.”
“That would suit me very well, thank you, ma’am.”
They stood and Brynne rang the little bell to call the housekeeper in. Mrs. Krause bustled in, only sparing the barest of glances for Mr. Taggart. Her entire demeanor fairly shouted haughty disdain. Brynne frowned. She hoped Mrs. Krause wouldn’t cause too many problems. Brynne knew Mr. Taggart might take some getting used to, but she was hopeful that his references would go a long way to smoothing things over with the staff. She swore servants were nearly as arrogant as their employers. Some of them were very particular about who they’d deign to serve. Brynne had felt her fair share of cold stares and begrudgingly given courtesies.
Well, Mrs. Krause would have to get used to the idea. Brynne would hate to dismiss her. A good housekeeper was harder to find than a good butler. But if Mrs. Krause couldn’t accept Mr. Taggart’s authority, and more importantly, Brynne’s, then she’d have to be let go.
Blood Blade Sisters Series (Entangled Scandalous) Page 26
