Free It Takes a Hero by Elizabeth Boyle Page A

of sudden, Rafe realized how much he envied Jemmy. Probably always had. An heir to a respected barony, wealthy, respected by society. Here was a young man who had a firm place in the
ton
and instead he hid away from it.
    "Come to London," he said, trying a lighter tone. "We'll go out and do the town right. You can buy," he offered. "Besides, you can't hide forever."
    But his words had no effect. Jemmy's jaw set in a determined line that was most likely inherited from his mother. Pride and fear burned in his gaze. "I damn well can," he said. "And I damn well will."
    He hobbled off, up the steps of the gatehouse and closed the door. Moments later, a single candle moved through the house, then was snuffed and the place was cast into darkness.
    Not unlike the occupant.
    And Rafe realized that the small favor that Lady Finch had asked of him, to help her son, was going to be far more difficult to fulfill than he'd imagined.

Chapter 4
    « ^ »
     
    There is a vast difference between a rapscallion and a gentleman. A discerning lady knows which to kiss and which to marry.
     
    Lady Lowthorpe to Miss Darby
    in
Miss Darby's Reckless Bargain
     
    R afe stood at the gates of Finch Manor long after Jemmy had gone inside and cursed the past fortnight.
    Why had he ever answered Lady Tottley's summons? This simple assignment was turning into far more work than he wanted to invest.
    First of all, how the devil was he going to help Jemmy Reyburn? The very idea curled in his gut like sour milk. For he suspected that if he were to nudge Jemmy back into society, he may well find himself on that same reluctant road.
    "And it wouldn't hurt you none either," a voice said.
    Rafe looked up to find an old woman standing in the middle of the road. With a knit shawl tossed over her shoulders and a plain little bonnet on her head, she might have been just another wrinkled village crone, but the lady shot him a saucy wink and swung her flower filled basket like a flirtatious milkmaid.
    He glanced down the road in either direction and swore she hadn't been there a few moments before.
    When he looked at her again, she was grinning.
    "Never you mind where I came from. What matters is where I am going. Home it is, and you are going to walk me there. I'm not as spry as I used to be and you look capable enough." She shot him another wink and slid her hand into the crook of his arm and started down the road, towing him along until he fell into step beside her.
    For a wee bit of a thing she had a grip like a dockhand.
    "I wasn't planning on—" he said, glancing over his shoulder at the gates.
    "Never you mind about Lady Finch. You just tell her Esme borrowed you for a bit." Her fingers gave his arm a squeeze. "Now why don't you tell me what you are looking for?"
    "Looking for?" Rafe looked down at his newfound companion and wondered if everyone in Bramley Hollow knew of his quest. "I'm not—"
    "Nonsense! Of course you are looking for someone. No one comes to Bramley Hollow unless they are looking for someone."
    Esme
. That name now rang a bell. What was it the postmistress had said earlier?
    Esme Maguire. The matchmaker.
    Rafe came to an abrupt halt. "Now listen here, I'm not here to… to…"
    "Get matched?"
    "Exactly."
    "Of course you aren't," she said, tugging on his arm anew and setting them back on their amble down the road. "No one is. Or at least not that they'd confess."
    "I can assure you, madame, I am not the marrying type."
    She tipped her bonnet back and studied him. "You just haven't found the right lady yet."
    "I suppose you could remedy that?"
    She tugged her shawl closer. "You have only to ask."
    Rafe decided the better part of valor was to say nothing.
    The matchmaker laughed. "Silence won't save you, Mr. Danvers."
    A shiver ran down his spine. "You know who I am?"
    "Everyone in Bramley Hollow knows who you are. You couldn't have done yourself a worse disservice by introducing yourself to a certain young lady."
    "Miss Tate," he said, under his