Read Online What You Deserve (Anything for Love, Book 3) by Adele Clee - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Adele Clee
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straw and shook a few drops of rain from his hat onto the man’s cheek. “Wake up.”
The groom woke with a start, slapped his ear as the water ran down his neck. “What? I said I’d have the money on Thursday.” He dragged a dirty hand down his face and blinked rapidly. “What? Who are you?”
Tristan did not know whether to let the chuckle fall from his lips or chastise the man for his impudence. Having spent years living in the monastery, Tristan still found that the lines between master and servant were somewhat blurred.
“I am Lord Morford,” he said failing to sound irate. “Now get up before your mistress catches you shirking your duties. Your coachman is stuck in the mud less than half a mile from here and requires assistance.”
“Lord Morford?” The man sat bolt upright. His wide eyes flitted back and forth as though he feared he was still lost in his dream. “But you’re dead,” he said before covering his mouth with his hand by way of an apology for his impertinence.
Tristan sighed. Did everyone at Highley Grange believe in ghosts? “You speak of my brother. Trust me. I am very much alive. Now get up before I drag you up.”
“Good Lord,” the man muttered, scrambling to his feet. “I mean, my lord. Won’t you forgive a man for his stupidity?” He held his hands in front of him and twiddled his fingers. “I was just taking a nap. That was all.”
“What’s your name?”
“J-Jacob, my lord.”
“Well, Jacob. I assume you have a cart here.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. As I said, the carriage is stuck in the mud. Your coachman hasn’t the strength to move it on his own.” The groom’s confused expression hardly raised confidence in his abilities. “You’ll need a rope and a couple more men.”
Jacob scratched his head. “Do you know where we’ll find him?”
“Past the crossroads on the road into Hoddesdon.” Tristan stepped back and gestured for the man to exit the stall. “I suggest you take a piece of board or a few logs, and a shovel.”
“Yes, my lord,” he said, nodding too many times to count. Jacob rushed towards the stable door but stopped abruptly. “Will you be telling Lady Fernall about my nap?”
Isabella had more important things to think about without hearing about the inadequacy of the hired help. “I tend to judge a man on the quality of his work,” Tristan said. “I’ve left my horse in the end stall. Treat him well and I shall forget I saw you sleeping.”
Relief flashed in the groom’s eyes. “Thank you, my lord. His coat will be shinier than your boots by the time I’m finished with him.”
His boots were sodden and splattered with mud. “Splendid.” It suddenly occurred to Tristan that he should take advantage of the groom’s willingness to please. Whilst the coachman’s need was great, Jacob might not be as forthcoming on his return. “Can I ask you something before you rush off?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“It might sound like an odd question, but have you ever witnessed anything unusual here?” He could hardly come out and ask the man if he had ever seen a figure in white wandering the corridors. “Have you ever seen anything that defies all sense and logic?”
“All sense and logic?” Jacob repeated, a look of confusion marring his brow. He stared at Tristan for a moment. “Oh, you mean a ghost. I have heard some say they’ve seen a lady walking about at night.” He glanced back over his shoulder before taking a step closer. “They say it’s the spirit of his lordship’s first wife.”
“Who said that?”
Jacob shrugged. “Mrs. Birch for one. She’s been the housekeeper here for ten years. And then there’s Molly, but she tends to agree with Mrs. Birch. Mr. Blackwood says they’ll say anything to squeeze another shilling from him.”
Tristan raised a curious brow. “Mr. Blackwood?”
“He lives in the gatehouse. He takes care of things, manages the estate, but he spends a lot of his time in
The groom woke with a start, slapped his ear as the water ran down his neck. “What? I said I’d have the money on Thursday.” He dragged a dirty hand down his face and blinked rapidly. “What? Who are you?”
Tristan did not know whether to let the chuckle fall from his lips or chastise the man for his impudence. Having spent years living in the monastery, Tristan still found that the lines between master and servant were somewhat blurred.
“I am Lord Morford,” he said failing to sound irate. “Now get up before your mistress catches you shirking your duties. Your coachman is stuck in the mud less than half a mile from here and requires assistance.”
“Lord Morford?” The man sat bolt upright. His wide eyes flitted back and forth as though he feared he was still lost in his dream. “But you’re dead,” he said before covering his mouth with his hand by way of an apology for his impertinence.
Tristan sighed. Did everyone at Highley Grange believe in ghosts? “You speak of my brother. Trust me. I am very much alive. Now get up before I drag you up.”
“Good Lord,” the man muttered, scrambling to his feet. “I mean, my lord. Won’t you forgive a man for his stupidity?” He held his hands in front of him and twiddled his fingers. “I was just taking a nap. That was all.”
“What’s your name?”
“J-Jacob, my lord.”
“Well, Jacob. I assume you have a cart here.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Good. As I said, the carriage is stuck in the mud. Your coachman hasn’t the strength to move it on his own.” The groom’s confused expression hardly raised confidence in his abilities. “You’ll need a rope and a couple more men.”
Jacob scratched his head. “Do you know where we’ll find him?”
“Past the crossroads on the road into Hoddesdon.” Tristan stepped back and gestured for the man to exit the stall. “I suggest you take a piece of board or a few logs, and a shovel.”
“Yes, my lord,” he said, nodding too many times to count. Jacob rushed towards the stable door but stopped abruptly. “Will you be telling Lady Fernall about my nap?”
Isabella had more important things to think about without hearing about the inadequacy of the hired help. “I tend to judge a man on the quality of his work,” Tristan said. “I’ve left my horse in the end stall. Treat him well and I shall forget I saw you sleeping.”
Relief flashed in the groom’s eyes. “Thank you, my lord. His coat will be shinier than your boots by the time I’m finished with him.”
His boots were sodden and splattered with mud. “Splendid.” It suddenly occurred to Tristan that he should take advantage of the groom’s willingness to please. Whilst the coachman’s need was great, Jacob might not be as forthcoming on his return. “Can I ask you something before you rush off?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“It might sound like an odd question, but have you ever witnessed anything unusual here?” He could hardly come out and ask the man if he had ever seen a figure in white wandering the corridors. “Have you ever seen anything that defies all sense and logic?”
“All sense and logic?” Jacob repeated, a look of confusion marring his brow. He stared at Tristan for a moment. “Oh, you mean a ghost. I have heard some say they’ve seen a lady walking about at night.” He glanced back over his shoulder before taking a step closer. “They say it’s the spirit of his lordship’s first wife.”
“Who said that?”
Jacob shrugged. “Mrs. Birch for one. She’s been the housekeeper here for ten years. And then there’s Molly, but she tends to agree with Mrs. Birch. Mr. Blackwood says they’ll say anything to squeeze another shilling from him.”
Tristan raised a curious brow. “Mr. Blackwood?”
“He lives in the gatehouse. He takes care of things, manages the estate, but he spends a lot of his time in
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