Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero by Cari Hislop

and watered. You
know you can count on your big brothers. I’ll write to Peter. He
may know some fat squire in need of a beautiful wife…”

    “Yes, that’s
a…a good idea.” John didn’t sound convinced, but he was relieved to
be reminded he had two staunch allies. Feeling somehow unburdened,
John could sit down opposite his ward without wanting to scream.
She smiled at his terse glance and continued to clean her plate
without speaking.

    “James?”

    “Yes
Agnes?”

    “Miss Lark has
been staying at The Maiden’s Head without a female companion.”
James turned a look of horror towards his brother.

    “How could you
let her stay in that vice pit?”
    “Don’t blame
me; I thought she was in Lincolnshire.” John helped himself to
another slice of ham and glared at his smiling ward. “Don’t worry
I’ll get her a room at some reputable Inn for the night and send
her home tomorrow.” He watched Miss Lark’s shoulders slump as she
transformed into an image of despair.

    “Can’t I stay
a few weeks to get to know you?” John glared into pleading large
eyes as he battled temptation. “A week? A day?”

    “No, you’re
going back tomorrow.”

    “Miss Lark
won’t be going anywhere until you can escort her home yourself. You
can’t send a woman all the way to Boston on her own. She’ll be
ravished by every knave with time to unbutton his flap. No doubt
they’ll all be your acquaintances. She’ll stay with us until you
can do your duty.” Agnes ignored John’s horrified glare as she
buttered her toast. “Whatever was her father thinking when he made
you her guardian?”

    “He wanted to
torture me.”

    “It’s about
time someone did. I’ll send a footman to collect her things.” When
John gave in to the desire to look across the table he found his
ward smiling again.

    “Thank you Mrs
Smirke. I’d much rather stay here.” She ignored her guardian’s
unhappy expression and stretched as if she’d awaken from an
unpleasant dream. John’s eyes were unwittingly drawn to her charms
outlined in black and white. He forgot he was the girl’s guardian.
He forgot about his search for the saintly Joan. He didn’t notice
his brother smile and silently nod his wife out of the room several
minutes later leaving the two alone. John was mesmerised by
blushing cheeks, admiring eyes and the sound of his heart tapping
happily in his chest. He could almost feel his arm around her waist
as he accepted worshipful kisses. Cracking the knuckles on his left
hand, he unconsciously prepared to bring the fantasy to life when
two identical pairs of eyes appeared just above the tabletop on
either side of his quarry.

    “Papa says
you’re going to marry your ward…”

    “…and have
lots of babies.”

    “He says you
won’t be able to spare us a shilling.”

    “There’s no
reason to be good no more.”

    “We’ll never
get pudding again.”

    “Not until we
grow up and go dancing.”

    “I don’t want
to dance, I just want pudding.”

    John’s lusty
thoughts popped like soap bubbles, his cheeks singed by the fires
of hell. What was he thinking? He couldn’t bed the wench. Two hours
in her company had already turned his brain to mush. “You two
hellions are going to have black teeth by the time you’re seven. No
one’s going to want to marry you. You’ll die old maids.”

    “It won’t
matter if we have black teeth. Mamma says we’ll have
twenty-thousand each.”

    “And if she
dies I’ll have forty-thousand.”

    “Mamma says
you’ll die an old bachelor.”

    “And we won’t
come to visit.”

    “Because you
won’t share your lemon drops.”

    “Get back to
that netherworld you call a nursery and stay there.”

    “You don’t
want to marry Uncle John. Mamma says he’s a yellow bane.”

    “Out!” John’s
satanic roar earned him a display of impudent pink tongues
harbouring his last two lemon drops stolen out of his pocket. The
identical heads disappeared back under the table