Free Patrica Rice by Mad Marias Daughter Page B

judge by appearances, she reminded herself. Unfortunately, if he looked that disgraceful to her, what could he possibly look like to someone else? The thought did not bear dwelling on.
    “Very well.” She frowned. The squire had needed someone to help with the clearing of old shrubs and debris in an unused section of his park. Perhaps he could hire two men to do it, but that would leave both men with half the expected wages. It would be better could she find two jobs, particularly since she found it highly improbable that Squire Dalrymple would wish to have anyone as disreputable as this near his family.
    Her frown cleared and she pointed at her pony cart. “Stay here while I take ...” She turned to the young soldier. “Your name?”
    “David, mum, David Stone.’’ He twisted his battered hat nervously between the fingers of his one hand.
    “All right, Mr. Stone, we will go to Squire Dalrymple.” She turned to the peg-legged man. “Your name?”
    “Rhys, milady.” He hesitated before offering his whole name, but in for a penny, in for a pound. He shrugged. “Rhys Llewellyn, milady.”
    The name as he said it had a noble ring to it and Daphne looked momentarily startled, but occupied with other thoughts, she merely nodded. “Very well, Mr. Llewellyn, if you wish to work, wait for me by the pony cart.” She threw the sturdy vehicle a quick look, but her maid had already wandered off on her errands.
    Having arranged everything to her satisfaction, Daphne set out for the modest Dalrymple house at the edge of the town. It boasted a small fenced park with an overabundance of trees and very little landscaping since none of the squire’s family had any interest in gardening.
    As she had feared, it took some persuasion to convince the squire that a one-armed young soldier might take on the arduous task of cleaning out one of the long-neglected corners of the park. The innocent mention that the young man might otherwise fall in with the band of thieves in the woods brought the squire around with reluctance.
    “You won’t regret it, sir,” Daphne assured him. “After all these poor boys have done for us, keeping Napoleon from our doors, we can only do our best to see them taken care of when they return home. I am certain Lord Griffin will commend you for your patriotism.”
    That was a compelling argument, and the squire finally nodded and glanced at the young man. “ ‘Tis a pity we cannot replace the uniform and give him a gun. With thieves swarming about, a bodyguard is what we need.”
    David straightened his shoulders and met the squire’s eyes. “I can still shoot straight, sir. If you have a weapon, I can ride behind your carriage.”
    To Daphne, that was an alarming thought, but the squire brightened perceptibly, and she dared raise no objection. With a few parting words, Daphne left them discussing the war and hastened back toward her pony.
    The wooden-legged man was leaning against the cart as she approached. He straightened at the sight of her, but politely he did not speak until spoken to.
    Coming up against her next project, Daphne regarded his revolting clothes with a shudder and glanced around for some sign of Marie. She found the maid huddled nervously in the doorway of the notions shop, staring at the vagrant whose unkempt form had usurped their vehicle. Daphne gave a sigh of exasperation and turned back to the odoriferous Mr. Llewellyn.
    “You will have to bathe before I can take you with me,” she announced severely, refusing to acknowledge her creeping embarrassment at speaking so to a stranger. “Ask the innkeeper the cost of a bath and I will advance you the funds.”
    Rhys glared at her in astonishment, then growing amusement. She was red about the ears, and he had to acknowledge the justice of her decision. “The boy, milady?” He persisted in using the title even though he knew she didn’t possess one. “Did he find a place?”
    Daphne looked even more uncomfortable. She worried