~ The Reluctant Landlord ~

by

Susanne Marie Knight

Katrina snuggled into her pillow and ignored the heavy breathing that penetrated the outer edges of her dreams. She willed the noises to go away. Sleep was the only time she escaped from the rigors of the day; she would not be cheated out of a much needed night’s rest. Rough fabric scratched at her cheek. She frowned, but still kept her eyes closed. Bad dream, she decided.

A sharp aroma of rum invaded her nostrils. It was her call to the world of the living. As reluctant as she was to open them, she finally rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. Then she gasped. Resting on her bed was a large gloved hand. Two fingers poked their way out of the glove, giving it a more grisly effect. She gasped again. The hand was attached to a dark clothed arm. The rest of the person remained hidden by the side of the bed.

Sitting up, she pulled the bedsheets to her neck for cover. "What are you doing here?" she asked in a severe tone.

"B--Blimey! You gave me a scare!" The hand disappeared, but a man’s head poked up from the floor. He pulled off his fuzzy hat and stared at her.

He did not seem dangerous but… "I gave you a scare! Whatever are you doing here?"

She leaned over to her bedstand and lit a candle. The room glowed with flickering light, exposing the soft down on the man’s chin. Young--and inexperienced. He had to be; he made a mistake in coming here. She had nothing a thief would want.

He kneaded his cap. "Please, mum. I just be lookin’ for that accursed bracelet, is all. Juliet, she be wantin’ it awful bad. Diamonds and sapphires! As sure as me name is Jack, I wish I never laid eyes on it!"

Brushing her hair out of her face, Katrina curled her legs underneath her. She had nothing to fear from this man. "Juliet? Does she know the Earl of Udall?"

The man bobbed his head.

"But I returned the bracelet to the Earl some time ago. He should have given it to Juliet by now."

Jack’s shoulders slumped. "The Earl, he be done with Juliet. She just has me to take care of ‘er."

His simple statement touched Katrina’s heart. She could not agree with the way Juliet earned her living, but sometimes a person had to do unorthodox things in order to get by. Katrina knew that for a fact.

"I am sorry, Jack, but--"

A sound at the window captured both of their attentions. Katrina held the bedsheet tighter at her throat and watched as a muscular leg appeared over the window ledge. A few grunts and groans later, and the Earl of Udall stood inside the room.

Katrina balled her fist by her mouth. "Faith, now I know I must be dreaming!"

Wiping off the dirt, he swept his gaze over her and Jack. "Faith indeed! I risk life and limb, and what do I find? A veritable tea party!"

Jack’s uneasy shifting warned her that he contemplated making a mad dash to escape. The Earl’s solid glare of anger made her certain he would not take kindly to any of Jack’s bids for freedom.

She spread out her hands. "Jack was just looking for that bracelet. He is fond of Juliet, you know, and they thought they might…"

If Lord Udall frowned any deeper, the chords in his neck were bound to burst. Katrina winced.

"I am well aware of what they thought to do." He stood with arms clasped against his chest and took a step forward. His gaze rested on the fallen bedsheet.

Her face flamed. Although her nightgown had fewer patches than any of her daytime clothes, its material was filmy enough to cling to her body. She snatched at the bedsheets, again.

"If you please, My Lord, perhaps they could have a second chance? I do not think Jack means us harm. Perhaps if he had some direction--some help?"

She did not know why she was pleading this man’s case. After all, he had ripped her from one of her more satisfying dreams. She glanced at him. He twisted his cap so violently, it was sure to have more holes than his gloves.

She raised her gaze to the Earl. "Please?"

He exhaled deeply. "Lord, give me strength."

With a sweeping gesture, he swung his arm in the direction of the window. "All right, man, you may go. And take Juliet Dufay with you."

Jack reached out and pumped Katrina’s hand. "Thankee, thankee, mum!" He then edged a wide circle around the Earl.

Lord Udall hammered his fist at the man. "If you are serious about making a clean start, come by Udall House tomorrow, in the afternoon. Talk to Her Ladyship’s man, Perkins. He will offer you an honest living."

"Thankee, oh thankee, Your Lordship! I will! I promise." Jack moved to shake the Earl’s hand.

"Thank the young lady, not me. Now go!"

After Jack slipped over the window ledge, the Earl wiped his brow. "I confess, I am not looking forward to exiting the same way I entered your boudoir."

In spite of herself, Katrina smiled. He was so unlike himself; she looked him over as if seeing him for the first time. He seemed so unsure--so ill-at-ease. As well he might be! She certainly had never entertained a gentleman in her nightclothes! Goodness, if Aunt Hattie ever found out. She flushed.

"Mind if I sit a minute? Waylaying burglars does tend to be exhausting work."

"Oh, please do!" She pointed to the only chair in the room, an upholstered, frilly knick-knack of a piece close by her bed. Although she was in a compromising situation, and inappropriately dressed to play the hostess, she picked up the pitcher of water on her bedstand and poured him a glass. Now would be the perfect time to ask, no, beg him to not interfere with her arrangements concerning John Miers.

The Earl accepted the water. "My thanks."

As he took a sip, he regarded her with a strange expression. When she met his gaze, he looked away. "I must apologize for placing you in such an intolerable circumstance. You must believe me, I had no idea my former, er, acquaintance would commit such a deed. You could have been in danger."

She toyed with the white lace edging the neckline of her nightgown. His concern for her melted a reserve she had placed around her heart. Perhaps she misjudged him. After all, he had come barreling through the window in her defense, and listened to her plea for mercy in dealing with Jack, instead of calling the constable. No one had ever come to her rescue before.

He made her feel special. His presence alone sent delicious tingles up her spine. She had felt in no danger before, but now…

Tilting her head, she asked, "What were you doing outside my window, My Lord? The hour is late, and Mincing Lane does not hold any particular entertainments."

He gave her a sheepish grin. Strange, he appeared so young and carefree. "I am afraid I do not have an answer for you, Miss Jones."

Setting the glass back on the table, he leaned over and held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. His dark gaze kept her mesmerized. The tingles that had danced down her spine before, now turned into heat waves burning through her inner core. What was happening to her? She gulped down hard.

He released her. "I must go."

"B--But, wait. I--"

The Earl turned around. "Yes?"

She placed her cool fingers to her cheeks, to stop the extraordinary fever raging within her. "I wanted to ask you--if you would not talk to Mr. Miers? I do so want this job and…"

Under the blaze of the Earl’s scrutiny, she swallowed down again. Faith, but he was intimidating! "I mean, I, um, need this job--"

A loud click broke into her disjointed sentence. Her bedchamber door opened with a swoosh, and in sailed Great Aunt Hattie.

"Katrina!" she boomed in the most blistering, awful voice Katrina had ever heard.

Hattie’s gaze swerved from the Earl to Katrina. Her aunt swayed with strong emotion, setting her favorite carnelian ring necklace to bouncing over her bosom. Her face grew alarmingly red.

She would never understand; she would insist that Katrina was ruined.

A tremor of intense fear overtook Katrina. She started to quake in her bed. Between the storming swirl of her aunt’s self-righteous thunderbolt and the black scowl marring the Earl’s face, Katrina was in for a barrage of hostile words the sound of which would likely awaken her former neighbors in East Bergholt.

She hung her head. The worst part of it was that Hattie would never allow the Earl to leave without extracting from him an offer of marriage.

Marriage--a forced marriage to the Earl of Udall!