Page 25 of An Alleged Rogue

“Well, I’ll be. We ’ave an orchard full of ’em, and I’ve never tried temptin’ her with apples afore.” Oliver scratched his head again. “I suppose I’m willin’ to clean her mouth bit if she’s willin’ to keep walkin’ after she’s eaten.”

Phoebe continued moving until the horse’s stride was steady and the millstone was moving smoothly. Then she slowed her pace and allowed Molly to claim the apple. The mare guzzled it down instantly, and when it was gone, she kept on walking.

“I recommend the King of the Pippins, Oliver,” Phoebe said, stepping away from the mill so Molly could make another circuit.

The groom grinned. “Right you are, miss.”

Adam watched the Hadford carriage disappear down the drive. He stood in exactly the same spot he had the day before. This time, however, his hand had been clean enough to assist Miss Hadford into the conveyance, and she had smiled at him. Those two things should not have made a huge difference to the parting of relatively new acquaintances. And yet they had.

His thoughts tumbled over the events of the afternoon. From Miss Hadford’s gracious acceptance of his apology to her genuine interest in seeing the orchard and mill, nothing had gone as he had anticipated. He was still trying to reconcile the young lady who dressed so exquisitely as to turn heads when she entered a room with the one who paid no heed to the dirt and straw clinging to her hem whilst she coaxed an old, tired plow horse into action.

It was as though two totally different personas existed under the same name. Miss Hadford had spoken to Oliver and Henry as naturally and pleasantly as she had to Lord Forsnes and Mr. Webb. The interaction he had overheard between her and Emily in the house had been warm and uplifting, and yet he would be willing to bet his first barrel of cider that her conversation with Miss Webb and Miss Chapman at the Palmers’ event had been a typical female gossip session.

He took an uneasy breath. His family had suffered enough because one man had not been who he seemed. It could not happen again. Miss Glover saw Miss Hadford as a threat to Emily’s well-being; Emily already considered her a dear friend. Somehow, he must uncover the young lady’s true identity. And he must do it soon. He would not risk Emily’s being hurt by another’s duplicity.

As though she sensed that his thoughts had turned to her, Emily slipped her arm through his. “Thank you, Adam.”

“Thank you?”

She nodded, smiling at him. “You redeemed yourself handsomely today.”

“I did, did I?” He pushed his troubled thoughts aside and quirked an eyebrow. “Even though Miss Hadford left the cart shed with Molly’s slobber all over her pristine white gloves?”

Emily laughed. “Yes. Even then.”

“I am most relieved.” He guided her back toward the house. “It was a close thing, you know. I knew that a walk through the orchard and the cart shed could not possibly measure up to choosing new gowns.”

“I enjoyed the tour,” Emily said earnestly. “And I believe Phoebe did too. You need not worry if she enjoyed discussing gowns more than milling apples; she seemed quite content when she left.”

Adam chuckled. “You are priceless, Emily. Do not ever change.”

She gave him a quizzical look, but when he refused to elaborate she heaved a dramatic sigh. “I had such high hopes for growing another couple of inches. But if you say I am not to change— ”

“Absolutely not. Neither of your new gowns would fit if you did that.”

Emily laughed. “Very well. You win. I am sufficiently excited about them to accept my current height—at least for the time being.”

“I am glad to hear it.”

They entered the hall, and after Thompson had relieved her of her bonnet and gloves, Emily stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips to Adam’s cheek.

“It has been a lovely afternoon. Thank you again for your part in it,” she said, and then she hurried across the tiled floor and up the stairs.

Adam stood, watching her go. She was so slightly built, it was no wonder he still thought of her as a little girl. Although, he could not deny that today, whilst she’d been in Miss Hadford’s company, he had finally seen her as the young woman she had become: beautiful, poised, and desperately in need of more than he and Miss Glover could offer. With a sigh, he turned away and walked into his study.

Thompson had left today’s correspondence on the desk for him. Adam moved closer, instantly recognizing Toole’s handwriting on the letter at the top of the pile. His pulse quickened. What did the Bow Street runner have to report? Taking his seat behind the desk, Adam broke the seal and began to read.

Bow Street, London

13 September 1788

Dear Lord Dunsbourne,

I write to inform you that there is strong reason to believe that Mr. Freddie Payne has returned from parts unknown and is currently residing within the city of London.

The series of events that have led to this conclusion are as follows:

Over the course of the last two weeks, an increased number of forged notes, ranging in value from fifty pounds to five pounds, have begun circulating the city.