It Takes a Hero by Elizabeth Boyle Read Free Book Online

roof, Miss Rebecca. Gone mad as a hatter this time. Called me an ugly old toss-pot when I wouldn't give him the shot." She pulled a large grayed square of linen from her apron pocket and sniffed loudly into it.
    Rebecca would bet that Mrs. Wortling had been called a lot worse than a drunkard in her spotty career as a housekeeper. Still, at the very least she needed to keep the peace and tried to smile sympathetically at the woman.
    She was, after all, their fifth housekeeper in as many years, and had lasted twice as long as any of the others.
    "A woman has her character, her reputation to maintain," Mrs. Wortling was wailing. "It wouldn't do my name any good for the neighbors to be hearing me called a 'toss-pot.' " She blew another loud, wet snort into her handkerchief.
    "I am sure no one heard him, Mrs. Wortling." And if they had, they would probably have agreed. Rebecca doubted there was anyone in the village who didn't know their housekeeper was prone to tip the bottle.
    "I should hope not," the housekeeper said, reaching for the shopping basket and then taking a peek under the cloth. "Tsk, tsk, tsk. You forgot to get the colonel's Madeira. He's almost out," she chastened.
    Almost out because you've gone and drunk it
, Rebecca wanted to counter. They'd taken to locking up the liquor cabinet, but that hadn't deterred the illustrious Mrs. Wortling. Rebecca suspected the woman picked the lock.
    Still, confronting their only servant or complaining to the woman wouldn't do. Mrs. Wortling had the same look about her that the last housekeeper had held moments before she'd thrown up her hands in despair and quit.
    It had taken them nearly two months to find Mrs. Wortling, and Rebecca had been nearly at her wits end between trying to maintain the house, carry on the colonel's correspondence, and keep them financially afloat.
    "Tea, Mrs. Wortling, if you please," the colonel said, sweeping into the room and settling into
his chair, looking and sounding like the regular country gentleman that he was supposed to be.
    "Harrumph," Mrs. Wortling snorted before stomping off to the kitchen.
    "Bex," the colonel said, looking up from his paper. "Did you write to Mr. Billingsworth about that tract on the Roman ruins nearby?"
    "Yes, sir."
    "Hmm," he murmured. "Wonder why he hasn't seen fit to respond. We'll give him until the end of the month. Then be a dear and write him another reminder." He sighed. "If my translations are correct the lost wages of Hadrian are buried not far from there. Such a treasure will make us rich, not to mention famous."
    Treasure!
Rebecca held back a loud groan. How she wished she'd never heard the word. It held nothing but empty promises and unending disappointments.
    She glanced over at her desk, with its mountain of papers and letters and bills. Not for the first time, Rebecca wondered what it would have been like to marry Lt. Habersham, now Viscount Pease, and live a life of luxury, instead of the poverty in which they struggled.
    Not that she knew any other way to live.
    Oh, there was the colonel's retirement pay, but he had never held a regiment, never made a very good showing in the army, so the half pay he received was not nearly enough for them to live on.
    Luckily, his cousin, a local baron, had offered them this cottage in which to live.
    But what would she do if something happened to the colonel? Then where would she be? Continue living on Lord and Lady Finch's good graces? Not if she had her way.
    Pulling a small ledger from her writing desk, Rebecca looked over her contingency plan. All she needed was a little more money, then she'd find the security and stability that had alluded her all her life. It was all she'd ever wanted and she wasn't going to let anyone stop her.
    Glancing up, she saw two figures ride by, Mr. Danvers and his young companion. To her relief, they didn't stop, but continued riding. Hopefully, he'd given up and was leaving Bramley Hollow for good.
    And good riddance to him
, she