The Apple Blossom Bower (Historical Romance Novella) Read Free

and be quick about it.” He removed his green baize apron and hung it upon a peg before sitting down at the kitchen table.
    Annis joined him, and they were soon provided with a bowl of soup and a meat pie.
    When they finished their simple meal, Sam said, “You should’ve et with Mrs. Russell instead of me.”
    Annis blotted the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “It’s you I’ve come to see. Now tell me, how are all the Brixham Kellands? Does Grandfather’s rheumatism still trouble him?”
    “No more’n usual, so far as I know,” Sam answered. “He’ll be glad for any news of you. Since Mum died, he’s been gloomy-minded. My sisters don’t like leaving their families, and live so far off that they’ll go a twelve-month or more without setting foot in Brixham. Papa used to say you should come to live with him, but he gave up hoping for that when Nan wed her squire.”
    “I wish I might visit him,” Annis said wistfully. “I could easily travel to Brixham from here—it’s not so far. We could both go, if Mrs. Russell gave you leave.”
    “Do you think you should?” Sam asked gravely. “Old Dundridge mightn’t like it.”
    “He’s not here to object,” she countered. “Nor would he have any reason. I’m a Kelland, and I can call upon my own grandfather without having to justify it.”
    Sam bowed his head, saying gloomily, “You don’t hardly know what being a Kelland means.”
    “Oh, don’t I?” she retorted. “This morning, coming to Dartmouth, I was stopped by an Exciseman. He was curious about the contents of those cider kegs I brought you.”
    “Is that all?” He shrugged.
    “It was most annoying,” she said, her eyes kindling at the memory.
    “’Twas but an inconvenience, nothing more. I’ve been treated far worse, you may be sure.” Turning his hazel eyes upon her, he said, “I want to work on a ship more than anything—always have done. Kelland men have been seafarers for as long as anyone can remember.”
    Annis knew exactly what was coming, and placed a consoling hand upon his arm.
    “But no ship’s master or captain in any Devonshire port is going to take on Jem Kelland’s little brother,” he grieved. “The Customs officers would scour whatever vessel I was assigned to for contraband every time it sailed or returned. They’d question me about the smugglers who run goods into Dartmouth and Brixham and everywhere else Jem had his contacts. And who could blame them? He was notorious. You wouldn’t remember, you were no more than a mite, but—” Sam hesitated momentarily. “Ah, never mind. Poor Jem. He never killed that land shark himself, and no one who truly knew him believes he did. Or could .”
    Annis, knowing so little about her father, hoped her relative would continue what for her was an illuminating discussion. But it came to an abrupt end when the head waiter charged into the kitchen, gesturing at him.
    “Hurry along, Sam—you’re needed in the taproom! I’ve got a party of ship’s officers shouting for their grog, the dining room is full, and just now two fine gents came in wanting to sup in the private parlor. You, girl,” he said sharply to one of the cook maids, “put on a fresh apron and find out what they require.”
    Annis bounded up from her stool. “Polly’s busy with the goose. I’ll go to them.”
    Her uncle’s harassed colleague stared at her. “You, Miss?”
    “Why not, if you’re short-handed?”
    Sam put a restraining hand upon her shoulder. “Nay, Annis. B’aint what Squire Dundridge would want.”
    For Annis that was the appeal of it. And although she felt shame at eagerness to go against the wishes of a man who was consistently kind and generous, she said airily, “He’ll never find out. It’s the least I can do for Mrs. Russell, who is so kind to me.”
    She’d lived at the inn for many years, and knew the way to the private parlor commonly offered to the most distinguished customers. There her mother had often