Read Online The Copper and the Madam by Karyn Gerrard - Free Book Online Page B

lifted her head. Her lashes were moist.
“I’ll try.”
    Damn. This would not be easy by any stretch
of the imagination. He would not give up, his determination more
firm than ever. Such damage wrought. As to their future prospects,
he did not want to think that far ahead. First, he had to see if
she would even tolerate his touch. If she couldn’t, better to know
right away, then he could leave before his heart became
engaged.
    Rory cut into the turkey and took a bite. Too
bloody late. His heart had become more involved in this situation
than it should be.

Chapter Nine
     
     
    Rory had been in The Thirsty Duck for more
than an hour. The small, quaint pub featured a low-beamed ceiling
and a dozen rough-hewn tables, chairs, and benches. Against the
wall stood the bar, with shelves of dusty liquor bottles behind it.
A roaring fire crackled in the medieval looking hearth. The floor
to ceiling stone fireplace had a couple of battered shields hanging
above the mantel. When he entered, the place grew silent. They soon
forgot his presence after he bought everyone a few rounds of mild
bitter.
    He nursed his glass. He was not a beer man.
The occasional whiskey and glass of wine comprised the extent of
his imbibing. Alcohol dulled the brain, and Rory would not let any
vice interfere with his sharp skills of deduction.
    He scanned the interior. Dark wood walls and
floors matched the bar and counter. Gas lighting hissed overhead,
but the flickering gas plumes were not enough to illuminate the
place. A thin layer of sawdust covered the floor, no doubt to
absorb anything the working men dragged in.
    The landlord pointed out Constable Henry
Freeman playing darts at the opposite end of the pub. No more than
seven inches over five feet, his physique revealed he spent many
nights drinking ale. His straight posture, despite the extra weight
he carried over his belt, showed he could be ex-military. Not a
total buffoon, then.
    When Freeman finished his game, Rory picked
up his beer and sauntered to the end of the pub.
    “I will play a game.”
    The man’s eyebrows arched. “You know how to
play darts? Excuse my doubt, your lordship.”
    Rory set his beer on the table and removed
his greatcoat and hat.
    “I learned not only to drink, but play darts
and cards with a modicum of skill in a quaint tavern not far from
Oxford University. Would you care to make a wager? Loser to buy the
next round of drinks.”
    Freeman raised an eyebrow. “Not for the
entire pub, surely.”
    Rory laughed. “No. Just us. A few beers, a
little conversation. And cut the ‘lordship’ please. Blackburn will
suffice.”
    “Very well, sir…I mean, Blackburn. Please,
take your turn.”
    Over the next hour they played three games,
Rory won two out of three, but the contests had been close. The man
possessed a certain skill. They took a seat at the corner table,
and Rory waved the landlord over and placed his order.
    “Did you serve in the Army, Freeman? You have
the bearing and presence of a man in uniform.”
    The man’s chest puffed out in pride. “I did.
The Boer War. The Royal Wiltshire Yeomanry, made sergeant.”
    “My friend, Baron Stonecliff, served with the
Royal Artillery. A captain injured in battle, disfigured
actually.”
    Freeman shook his head. “Poor blighter.”
    The landlord returned with the drinks, and
Freeman paid him.
    “I can imagine being a constable in this
sleepy country setting is quite different from what you saw in
South Africa.”
    “Aye, that it is, but Lincolnshire is not as
peaceful as you may imagine.”
    Rory nodded. “So the groundskeeper at Southen
Estate informed me. You had a murder not long ago.”
    Freeman thudded his mug on the table with a
good deal of force. “Blast that man. Gossips like an old woman
hanging over the fence. Aye, we had a murder.”
    “Well, do not leave it there. Were you able
to catch the killer?”
    “No. The victim was a young lad, rumored to
be a bit of a Mary. Found him in the ditch, his