Free Smirke 01 - An Unlikely Hero by Cari Hislop Page B

“I don’t want to be disturbed!” The door
opened and his brother Peter popped his head into the room.

    “Oh g-g-good,
you’re decent.” Peter’s head disappeared briefly before re-entering
the room carrying two large satchels. Kicking a trunk into the
middle of the room he closed the door with his boot.

    “What’s wrong
with your room?”

    “My chamber is
occupied. I’d happily share the young lady’s b-bed, but I fear her
guardian would shoot me.”

    “Go sleep with
your brats.”

    “They’ll be up
late playing cards; which side do you prefer?”

    “Why can’t you
sleep on a day bed?”

    “I’m seven
inches taller than you remember. I don’t fit on a day bed.” Peter
leaned in close to inspect his brother’s chest. “Heavens, that
nearly pierced your heart!”

    “Yes, it’s a
miracle I’m alive, now do you mind? I’m not well…”

    “You won’t
even notice me.”

    John seethed
as his brother started humming a song. “You couldn’t sing a song in
the right key if your ears sprouted tuning forks.” The humming
stopped and John congratulated himself for being kind and not
telling his brother to go hang himself and crawled into bed. He
couldn’t imagine many other people putting up with the
situation.

    Ten minutes
later his brother in his shirtsleeves blew out all the candles and
slid under the covers. “What a day. I wish they’d macadam all the
roads. I thought the rest of my teeth would fall out.”

    “You’re
getting old.”

    “I’ll be sure
to return the c-c-compliment in eight years time.” A loud yawn
filled the room. John lay on his back resenting the fact his
brother could freely roll about to find a comfortable sleeping
position. Finally the older man was still and John began to relax.
“I like Miss Lark. She’s lovely; so artless, amusing and
c-c-comfortable. The boys like her as well…John?”

    “I’m trying to
sleep. What?”

    “It’s hard to
find a beautiful woman who doesn’t tie my t-tongue in knots. Five
years without a woman’s touch…” John grimaced into the darkness.
The thought of having to endure five endless years devoid of
physical pleasure made his eyes water. He’d explode if he didn’t
soon acquire a wife.

    “What does
your wretched empty bed have to do with me?” John tensed as he
waited to hear something awful.”

    “You want to
g-get rid of your w-ward and I’m in need of a wife.” John nearly
bit his tongue at the thought of Miss Lark marrying his brother.
“It would solve b-b-both our p-problems. I’d give anything to have
a daughter.”

    “There are
plenty of old maids who’ll give you a daughter.” Peter smiled into
the dark at the angry words. His baby brother had swallowed the
bait and with luck would soon feel the hook in his lip. James’s
cunning plan to give their youngest sibling competition for Miss
Lark’s heart was already paying off. All Peter had to do was keep
up the pressure until John admitted he was in love with the chit.
Two sheepish blushing faces following Cecil’s blunt observation had
been all the proof needed to justify the deception.

    “How much do
you want for her?”

    “The wench
isn’t for sale and she’s not marrying you or any other relation and
that’s final.”

    “But what if
she falls in love with me?”

    “I’m tired. Go
to sleep.”

    “I’ll give you
a few weeks to think about it. I’m sure you’ll c-come to your
senses. I’m still c-considered an attractive c-c-catch you
know.”

    “Don’t make me
laugh. You’re practically dead. We’re all practically dead.”

    Peter rolled
over and smothered his successful laughter into his pillow before
quickly falling asleep. John lay awake fuming. He kindly resisted
the urge to push his snoring brother off the bed and pondered his
reluctance to throw the unwanted Joan into the arms of a decent
desperate man. He studied the gut wrenching thought from every
direction, but couldn’t define why it was painful. He knew