old courthouse building and aiming the thin, square box at the old structure. James blinked as the quick flash of light illuminated the night.
“I’ve been hired by Kenneth Miles to research as much as I can on James Addison and the Kings Mill gristmill business he started. It’s more of a temporary job while I’m waiting to hear about a few teaching positions I applied to for the spring semester.” She stopped talking, turned back to him, giving him a perplexed stare. “You know, Kenneth Miles, the British billionaire?” She sighed when he still didn’t comment.
He had no idea who she was speaking of, and realized a bit too late, maybe he should. “Oh, yes Kenneth Miles…really?” he said, feigning interest.
“He recently discovered he’s a distant relative of James Addison and has a fascination for the man, too. He’s looking into proving James Addison owned the land and gristmill in which Kings Mill is named for.”
James frowned. “What’s to prove? Everyone knows he was the proprietor.”
“That’s one belief. There are those who say Henry Samuel owned it. But no one has been able to find documentation to prove it one way or the other.” Dr. Branford shrugged. “Mr. Miles hired me to unearth historical documentation proving Addison owned it.”
Of course he owned the mill and the land! He bought the land for 500 British pounds and signed the deed with Henry Samuel, the louse. How the fop had managed to become the land commissioner for the western Maryland colony he had no idea. Even Lord Calvert thought the man was a bit of a horse’s arse.
But this was a turn of events for him. Here was someone with an actual curiosity about his past. Would she be able to help him find out the truth about his death? James’s hopes lifted, and then dropped as quickly. Good luck. The mystery of his death was still unsolved. Someone would have surely pieced it together by now if there were any clues to be found.
Dr. April Branford eyed him with a shy grin, biting her lower lip, an innocent yet provocative gesture. How long had she been staring at him? He wasn’t sure, lost as he’d been in his thoughts. But he was intrigued. Nice to know he could still hold the interest of the fairer sex.
Hell’s bells. Unused to having an actual person he could talk to, he’d drifted off. If he wanted answers, he would need to remain focused on her.
“Is something the matter?” he asked.
“We seem to have a common interest in James Addison and Kings Mill’s history. I was wondering if you could show me around. Give me a private tour? You have a much better flair for telling a tale than your co-worker. Perhaps give me your opinions on James Addison, who you think he really was, over a cup of coffee?”
She was a bold minx, asking a man to accompany her, and without a chaperone!
Was the girl being coy with him? Her lashes lowered and she turned her face away momentarily. When she looked back she was grinning shyly, her teeth planted in her luscious bottom lip again.
By George! She was flirting with him! He could almost feel his non-existent heart beating in his hollow chest. He wouldn’t be able to touch her but the company of the comely lass, after all this time, was definitely something he didn’t want to pass up.
“I would be delighted, Dr. Branford.” He doffed his hat and bowed low over his extended leg in true gentlemanly fashion. This could be the start to something wonderful!
Or perhaps you’ll end up scaring the bloody hell out of the poor girl.
Chapter Two
April couldn’t believe her good fortune as she walked beside her tour guide. He provided a highly detailed account of the small Maryland town of Kings Mill, formerly known as Kings Land, before the arrival of James Addison and his productive gristmill. The mill had produced a great deal of grain and flour for the colonies and England.
He talked briefly of various punitive acts by King George III and, looking properly offended, discussed
Marcus Emerson, Sal Hunter, Noah Child