The Rake Gets Ravished by Sophie Jordan

Author:Sophie Jordan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-02-22T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

A week into Silas Masters’s stay with them, Gwen Cully arrived early one morning.

“You are just in time to join us for breakfast,” Mercy declared from the front door with a wave and a smile.

Gwen clambered down from her wagon with practiced ease and hopped to the ground. “I will never turn down a meal, especially prepared by a cook as marvelous as yours.”

Mercy smiled as Gwen tied off the big bay and moved into the house, her steps as solid as a man’s on the entryway floor.

Everything about Gwen Cully was solid.

Standing nearly six feet tall, she was stronger than the average man. Even without her unique size, as Shropshire’s blacksmith, she was made strong from laboring hours a day with a hammer and anvil.

Mercy took her hat and gloves and set them on a side table. Gwen wore trousers as she always did. Ever since she was a girl working in her family’s smithy, she had eschewed the normal trappings of womanhood. No one in town ever gave her a second glance, so accustomed to the sight were they. It was normal. More uncharacteristic was the sight of her in a dress or skirts, although that did happen occasionally. For church or one of the Blankenship balls she would break routine and don a dress.

“My apologies on taking so long to deliver your order. Since the Duke of Penning took residence I have been inundated with work. The new duke is making a great many improvements at the hall. Too many for his staff alone to manage and he has commissioned me for several projects.”

“I am happy to hear your business is flourishing.”

“It is at that.” Gwen nodded, but there was an edge of weariness to her voice. “More than I alone can manage. If only I could find reliable help. My last apprentice ran off with a troupe of musicians passing through town. And the one before that decided he could do better for himself in a bigger city and left me for Yorkshire.”

They entered the dining room where everyone was gathered.

Silas pushed up from the table at their arrival. Bede followed suit with much slower progress, only halfway rising from his chair and then dropping back into his seat gracelessly to then continue shoveling sausages into his mouth.

“Gwen, er—Miss Cully,” Mercy corrected herself as she motioned to Silas. “This is our guest, Mr. Masters. He is an . . . acquaintance of my brother, from London.” Mercy winced at that mangled introduction.

“Miss Cully.” Silas inclined his head and, unlike her brother, remained standing until Gwen took her seat, eagerly accepting the platter of sweet buns and crumpets Gladys passed to her.

“Funny how you always arrive at mealtime.”

“Nothing funny about it, Miss Gladys,” Gwen declared with no remorse. “It is quite deliberate as I am a great admirer of your cooking. I have a woman help with my uncle a few hours a day. She is not very handy in the kitchen though. My uncle and I must endure my lackluster culinary efforts when I come in from work at the end of the day.

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