Page 13 of The Scarred Duchess
Franny smiled. “Did he, Papa?” Her attempt at coquetry seemed to have surprised her father.
He paused. “What, then, is your conclusion of the gentleman’s distraction?”
“Miss Harding would be appalled that a gentleman asked a lady her opinion so openly on such a subject.”
“Thankfully, Miss Harding is now Mrs Turnbull and well removed from such considerations.”
She chuckled; her father did as well.
“Papa, as you desire to inform me of Mr Bennet, I shall tell you I am quite open to hearing more of him.”
His eyebrows rose, his regular solemnity abandoned. “Truthfully, my dear?”
“Yes, Papa.” Franny eased back into the chair and said no more.
Her father cleared his throat. “Well, my dear, it would seem you have enchanted the former Colonel Bennet.”
“As he has me, Papa.”
“I will truly miss having you to myself. You have been the light that dispelled the darkness since your mother and sister left us.”
Franny reached out and placed her hand on his arm. “Have I encouraged Mr Bennet’s interest improperly? I did not intend to do so.”
“Not improperly, no. You are too well brought up for that. I have watched you grow into a beautiful and intelligent woman. You are kind and generous; you are the daughter all wish to have raised, but none will admit to such envy. You have never tried to look better than you are. In contrast, your contemporaries constantly hide their true natures behindbehaviour and appearance that pleases them when it is in their best interest and displeases them when it is not.”
Franny groaned with mocking despair. “Mrs Goulding will never stop crowing her success in matchmaking to all of Meryton.”
“It is something of a triumph.” Her father grinned. “Yet you, my dear, will be mistress of Longbourn.”
A clink of a sherry glass to a whiskey tumbler sealed the agreement between father and daughter. He would inform Bennet in the morning that his interest was reciprocated and welcome.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Roark sat at a table with a mug of ale at The Red Bull and absorbed the atmosphere. The inn was busy yet orderly and clean. It spoke well of the landlord.
A cherry-cheeked lass stopped to his front, a smile on her face. “Another, sir?”
Roark was surprised, having expected something else. He leant forward. “Lass, you should give care to that lovely smile of yours.” He nodded to take off the sting.
“None of that here, sir. Mr Melville is a right good man he is.” She looked about, then leant in. “And Mr Reeves would stop any who did,” she whispered, a hint of fear laced through her words. She bustled off and enquired at the other tables.
Roark absorbed the threat.Reeves, here in Meryton? Colonel Bennet is much more than he appears.
He pulled a coin and waved at a serving boy. “Who might be running messages?”
“Jacob be doing that, sir.”
“Off you go and send him me way.”
Minutes later, a young boy in scruffy clothing appeared.
“Jacob? I have a message for Reeves.”
He looked terrified. “Mr Reeves?”
Roark pressed his lips together. “You’ve done nothing wrong, boy.” The lad took the coin and waited. “Tell him...tell him Anvil be waiting on him here.”
Jacob’s eyes widened with this gossip treasure. “‘Anvil’ll be waiting on him.’”
