Miss Westlake's Windfall by Bárbara Metzger Read Free Book Online

expectations, the viscount was not too disappointed when Tally located a half-rotted glove, a stick suitable for tossing, a surfeit of spoiled apples, and an angry squirrel. Always trying to please him, she’d laid them all at her master’s feet, except, of course, the squirrel, but not for lack of trying.
    Chas had been searching too, looking beneath the trees for any sign of disturbance where something—or someone— might have fallen from one of the cursed trees. The stiff autumn breeze had ruffled the fallen leaves, though, and the excited dog’s tearing around had disturbed any other possible evidence.
    Close to dusk, Viscount Ashmead had to concede defeat. As far as he was concerned, the orchard was as empty as his own future.
    * * * *
    Ada was on a search that afternoon, too: she was looking for a smuggler. The farms and villages around Lillington were rife with them, according to rumor. The apothecary’s assistant might be in the gang, or the blacksmith’s son. No matter. They wouldn’t talk to Miss Ada Westlake about the illegal trade, and she was not interested in any of the henchmen anyway. She wanted the head of the operation, the ringleader, the dastardly Leo Tobin.
    How did she know the mastermind behind the local free traders was Leo Tobin? Because everyone said so. Because he could not have gotten rich with his father’s fishing boat. Because he dressed like a gentleman. That’s what everyone said, at any rate.
    Ada was not, naturally, acquainted with Mr. Tobin. He might be wealthy, but he was not accepted in the polite circles of Lillington society. If the heathen even bothered to attend church, it was not Ada’s own St. Jerome’s where he put his ill-gotten gains into the poor box. He did not subscribe to the local assemblies, and he did not frequent the Misses Hanneford’s lending library. He neither strolled the village streets, nor patronized the shops. Still, Ada knew where to find her quarry. The so-called Gentlemen gathered at a low tavern on the edge of town. Everyone said so.
    Never one to shirk her duty, Ada hitched old Lulu to the pony cart and pointed the old mare in the right direction, alone with her thoughts since Westlake Hall could afford neither groom nor maid to accompany her. Since she was already breaking every tenet of proper decorum for an unwed miss by entering a thieves’ den, Ada could not worry about being unchaperoned on the journey. Her sister-in-law refused to travel in the pony cart, but would have lain down in front of it before she let Ada return the sack of coins. As for Tess, Ada’s sister was inspired today to study the worms in the apples.
    Ada might be alone, but she did have her brother Rodney’s old dueling pistol for protection. The thing was empty, but would look impressive to the raff and scaff she expected to encounter at Jake’s Mermaid Tavern. At least Ada hoped it would.
    She herself was not impressed with the dilapidated building. The roof sagged, the single window was grimed with smoke, and the mermaid painted on the unevenly hung sign outside was naked! Ada supposed mermaids usually were, but, goodness, they could have added a bit of seaweed for modesty’s sake. This woman made Jane look like an undeveloped schoolgirl.
    Eyes lowered, Ada tied Lulu to the post, adjusted her shawl, marched into the building, and announced to the barkeep that she had come to see Mr. Leo Tobin, and she was not leaving until she had done so.
    “Bless you, ma’am, but Leo ain’t here.”
    Ada crossed her arms over her chest. “Then find him.” She peered around the murky, low-ceilinged room. “You there, Fred. What are you doing here in the daytime when you should be out fishing?”
    Fred nervously shuffled his feet. “Tide bein’t right, Miss Ada. But you hadn’t oughtta — ”
    “Then you should be home with your wife, helping with the babies. And you, Sam Findley, didn’t you promise to build a new pen for your mother’s pigs? I nearly ran one over on