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

missing it. I’ll have to ask around.”
    “Ashmead.”
    “Ashmead?”
    “Said he was your friend. Ask him what to do.”
    Ada’d used the viscount’s name to threaten a smuggler. She had no intention of asking Chas anything, not after the way they’d parted, but she was curious. “Do you know Lord Ashmead?”
    Leo liked the way her eyes lit up when she said Charlie’s name, and how she was as full of principles as freckles. Miss Ada was a trim handful besides, he could see now that she wasn’t wearing that old shawl. Despite a faded dress that even Leo could tell was out of fashion, she had a shape just made for cuddling. The lady was too short for him, of course, but just right for Charlie. Leo nodded and relaxed a bit. “Like a brother. No finer man alive, I swear.”
    She smiled at the idea of a recalcitrant ruffian recommending the viscount. “I think so too.”
    “You do? Capital. That is, a’course you do. Everyone loves our Charlie, don’t they?” He leaned forward, eager for her answer, but Jane returned then, followed by Cobble with a tea tray.
    “How lovely that you are becoming better acquainted. Here, Captain, you must try one of Cook’s apple tarts. Ada picked the apples herself, you know. Quite the industrious little bee, our Ada.”
    She went on, pressing tea and tarts and Ada on the man. Luckily, Leo had only to answer “Please” and “Thank you,” then “Um,” while his mouth was full to keep her conversation flowing. Jane found him quite delightful, since any gentleman who let her speak without telling her to stubble it was quite a novelty. “How many ships did you say you owned?”
    Having saved the purse from Jane’s clutches by stuffing it between two sofa cushions, Ada now tried to rescue Mr. Tobin. If he was a friend of Chas’s, he could not be all bad. “Is Mr. Johnstone not joining us for tea, Jane?”
    “Unfortunately not, for I am certain Uncle Filbert would enjoy meeting our new acquaintance. We see so few new faces, don’t you know, Captain Tobin, compared to what we were used to in London. Alas, Uncle has gone out shooting. He fancied venison, I believe.”
    Ada hoped Uncle Filbert was a better shot than Cousin Algernon. She fancied her flock of sheep. Then again, if Mr. Johnstone managed to put food on the table, it would be a welcome contribution to the household, his first contribution, in fact. “Do you hunt, Mr. Tobin?”
    Leo had been known to hunt deserters, informers, and the occasional French spy. “Aye.”
    So much for that topic of conversation. Ada was about to start discussing the weather—surely a seafarer would be knowledgeable about that—or horses, Chas’s favorite topic, about which Mr. Tobin was surely unknowledgeable, judging from the narrow-chested pair she could see through the window. She was spared the necessity by her sister .
    Drawn from her creative trance by the smells of tea and pastries, Tess drifted toward the tea cart, the thick sheaf of note-filled pages in her hand. Leo carefully set his cup and plate and napkin aside, to rise and bow. “Ch —ch—Charmed,” was all he had to say at Ada’s introduction, but he really was, charmed, that is; charmed, ensorcelled, his mouth magicked shut by a divine vision, or a witch, all in flowing, fluttering layers of multicolored fabric. With green eyes.
    As for Tess, she took one look at the tall, dark, and wickedly handsome stranger, and tossed her papers aside. “Sebastian!” she exclaimed, rushing to throw her arms around him. “My pirate!”
    “My gawd,” Leo managed to utter from a flurry of cloth and paper and soft, sweet-smelling woman.
    “My salts,” Jane cried.
    “He’s a smuggler, not a pirate,” Ada whispered as, mortified, she pried her sister away from the red-faced gentleman.
    “Smuggler, pirate, pish-tush.” Tess had her hands pressed to her chest—her own chest, Ada was relieved to see—as she watched Mr. Tobin bend down to gather up the scattered pages.