Temptation and Surrender Read Free

likely of the sort they called the backbone of the counties. Paternalistic—she could be absolutely sure he would be that—which would doubtless prove useful. She would have to remember to invoke that emotion if she needed help getting him to give her the position.
    She wished she’d been able to ask the barman about the owner, but given she intended to apply for the position of his superior that might have proved awkward, and she hadn’t wanted to call attention to herself in any way.
    The truth was she needed this position. Needed it quite desperately. Quite aside from the issue of replenishing her funds, she and her siblings needed somewhere to stay. She’d assumed there would be various types of accommodation available in the village, only to discover that the only place in Colyton able to house all five of them was the inn. And she couldn’t afford to stay at any inn longer than one night.
    Bad enough, but in the absence of an innkeeper, the inn wasn’t housing paying guests. Only the bar was operating; there hadn’t even been food on offer. As an inn, the Red Bells was barely functioning—all for want of an innkeeper.
    Her Grand Plan—the goal that had kept her going for the last eight years—had involved returning to Colyton, to the home of their forebears, and finding the Colyton treasure. Family lore held that the treasure, expressly hidden against the need of future generations, was hidden there, at a location handed down in a cryptic rhyme.
    Her grandmother had believed unswervingly in the treasure, and had taught Em and Issy the rhyme.
    Her grandfather and father had laughed. They hadn’t believed.
    She’d held to her belief through thick and thin; for her and Issy, and later Henry and the twins, the promise of the treasure had held them together, held their spirits up, for the past eight years.
    The treasure was there. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—believe otherwise.
    She’d never kept an inn in her life, but having run her uncle’s house from attics to cellars for eight years, including the numerous weeks he’d had his bachelor friends to stay for the hunting, she was, she felt sure, more than qualified to run a quiet inn in a sleepy little village like Colyton.
    How difficult could it be?
    There would no doubt be minor challenges, but with Issy’s and Henry’s support she’d overcome them. Even the twins, ten years old and mischievous, could be a real help.
    She’d hovered long enough. She had to do this—had to march up to the front door, knock, and convince the old gentleman to hire her as the new innkeeper of the Red Bells.
    She and her generation of Colytons had made it to the village. It was up to her to gain them the time, and the facility, to search for and find the treasure.
    To search for and secure their futures.
    Drawing in a deep breath, she held it and, putting one foot determinedly in front of the other, marched steadily on down the drive.
    She climbed the front steps and without giving herself even a second to think again, she raised her hand and beat a sharp rat-a-tat-tat on the white-painted front door.
    Lowering her hand, she noticed a bellpull. She debated whether to tug that, too, but then approaching footsteps fixed her attention on the door.
    It was opened by a butler, one of the more imposing sort. Having moved within the upper circles of York society prior to her father’s death, she recognized the species. His back was ramrod straight, his girth impressive. His gaze initially passed over her head, but then lowered.
    He considered her with a steady, even gaze. “Yes, miss?”
    She took heart from the man’s kindly mien. “I wish to speak with the owner of the Red Bells Inn. I’m here to apply for the position of innkeeper.”
    Surprise flitted over the butler’s face, followed by a slight frown. He hesitated, regarding her, then asked, “Is this a joke, miss?”
    She felt her lips tighten, her eyes narrow. “No. I’m perfectly serious.” Jaw firming, she