The French Encounter_Christian Historical by Jenna Brandt

Author:Jenna Brandt [Brandt, Jenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-11T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 15

The stench of sweat and alcohol was thick in the room. Profuse enough, it made Margaret gag. She pulled out her handkerchief and daintily put it over her nose and mouth. Looking around the sparsely furnished little room, she spotted Randall. She recognized him instantly, as their physical features were almost identical. Growing up, people would call them matching bookends.

Although he was no longer the boy she remembered, she hoped a part of him was still present. Perhaps her brother was deep down inside, and with some help, he could be rescued from the mess of a man that she saw sitting across the tavern from her now.

Randall had his head thrown back, laughing with his arm swung around the waist of one of the tavern’s servers. The wench leaned forward and said something to her brother that Margaret thankfully could not understand. He winked at the woman and then slapped her on the bottom. The girl rewarded him with a big kiss on the mouth and then went to go refill his drink.

Margaret, followed closely by Mulchere, made her way to Randall’s side. She stopped only a few feet away, and at first, he did not notice her standing there. Then as if he sensed her, he glanced up, his eyes growing wide with surprise, then disdain.

“If you are here for a night on the wild side with a local seaman, I am not for sale.”

She gasped and raised her hand to slap him but thought better of it. She did not want things to start out like that. Instead, she replied, “That is not why I am here, sir.”

He laughed, then asked, “Why, then, my dear, would a fine lady like you be careless enough to come down here, especially at this time of night?” Then he licked his lips in a lecherous manner. “Perhaps I will take it upon myself to sample the goods.” He reached out to grab her, but Mulchere stepped in as her protector and pushed him back into his chair.

“Who is that?”

Margaret ignored his question and said, “I came here because I have information about your past.”

He raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “Lady, my past is of no concern to me… and whatever your interest is, I do not care.”

She glared at him for a moment before deciding to change tactics. With finesse, she said, “But I only thought that, if you were who I thought you were, you would like to know that you are exceedingly wealthy.”

It was not quite a lie. Soon, he would be brother to the Marchioness du Badour, and with her new title they would be set for life. There was also the fact that he would regain the title of Earl of Renwick, and he could use it, along with all of its privileges, to create his own wealth.

That time, he looked at her with an eyebrow raised. “You do not say? So, if I am to believe any of this nonsense, tell me, how did you come to find this out?”

Margaret sighed, already exasperated by his obnoxious behavior.

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