No Job For a Woman

By Sherry Gloag

"Ned Granger!" He'd never heard his wife raise her voice before, and her roar startled both him and his mount. "Get off my land and take your miserable bunch of cravens with you."

"I gave you fair warning," Ned roared back. "Now you pay." He stepped forward and grabbed a flaming torch from one of his followers.

"You heard my wife, Granger." Julian reined in beside Deb, his voice more deadly for its lack of volume. "You touch one straw of this land and you will live to regret it."

Ned Granger fell back a step, the blood draining from his face. Julian watched the man's skin blotch and pale. Then Ned's eyes filled with evil glee.

"Do you take me for a fool?" Ned Granger stepped up to Julian's horse and pushed the flaming torch into the animal's face. "Married! She's not married to any man; she's a frigid bitch who couldn't whelp for her own husband. This land belongs to us. No woman's fit to run an estate, and since she's got no brats to leave it to, it should come to us."

Before the command reached his brain, Julian's whip hand slashed down at the man's head and sent him reeling backwards. "Do not speak of my wife in those terms. Now get off our land and don't come back." He watched the cluster of men standing to one side and wondered whether they intended to fight for their master or turn tail and run. "And that goes for you, too." He set his agitated horse in their direction.

They turned and ran.

"This is not the end of it," Ned screeched. He lobbed the torch into the air and laughed when it landed on top of the Blacks' roof, flames greedily ripping over the thatched surface. "You won't stop me. And you can't be everywhere." He loped off as a scream came from within the house. Julian turned towards the sound in time to see his wife run into the burning building.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sherry Gloag
• Release date: Dec 22, 2016
• ISBN: 9781386127055

Sherry Gloag

Best-selling author Sherry Gloag writes romances that stay with you long after you put her books down. One day, when stuck on completing a scene in her debut novel, The Brat,published by The Wild Rose Press, she opened a clean page and started 'freewriting'. She didn't sort of the errant scene, but she did write her first, published, 1k short story. She's had six more published since then. With eight published books under her belt and another due out in late 2013 Sherry is already working on her next novel. Each week, on her blog, along with a group of other talented authors she offers a free read under the umbrella heading of Tuesday's Tales. Sherry Gloag describes herself as a 'displaced' Scot living in the beautifly rural English county of Norfolk, where she enjoys talking with her characters while walking the area she calls 'her extended back garde'. But she does check to see if there's anyone e;se around before she gets involved with her characters. When she's not writing, Sherry enjoys reading, gardening and craftwork, to name a few of her hobbies. Her preference is for quiet when writing, but will occasionally use music to help set a mood if it is being elusive. Sherry Gloag loves hearing from her readers, [e-mail] You can find my books --> http://tinyurl.com/4qqnpck, http://tinyurl.com/4eog6cs, http://tinyurl.com/4dkmlh7, http://tinyurl.com/4jc42gf, http://tinyurl.com/4wy9hds, http://tinyurl.com/6bnvspc, http://tinyurl.com/5tj9zcc

Book preview

~Preview~

Ned Granger! He’d never heard his wife raise her voice before, and her roar startled both him and his mount. Get off my land and take your miserable bunch of cravens with you.

I gave you fair warning, Ned roared back. Now you pay. He stepped forward and grabbed a flaming torch from one of his followers.

You heard my wife, Granger. Julian reined in beside Deb, his voice more deadly for its lack of volume. You touch one straw of this land and you will live to regret it.

Ned Granger fell back a step, the blood draining from his face. Julian watched the man’s skin blotch and pale. Then Ned’s eyes filled with evil glee.

Do you take me for a fool? Ned Granger stepped up to Julian’s horse and pushed the flaming torch into the animal’s face. Married! She’s not married to any man; she’s a frigid bitch who couldn’t whelp for her own husband. This land belongs to us. No woman’s fit to run an estate, and since she’s got no brats to leave it to, it should come to us.

Before the command reached his brain, Julian’s whip hand slashed down at the man’s head and sent him reeling backwards. Do not speak of my wife in those terms. Now get off our land and don’t come back. He watched the cluster of men standing to one side and wondered whether they intended to fight for their master or turn tail and run. And that goes for you, too. He set his agitated horse in their direction.

They turned and ran.

This is not the end of it, Ned screeched. He lobbed the torch into the air and laughed when it landed on top of the Blacks’ roof, flames greedily ripping over the thatched surface. You won’t stop me. And you can’t be everywhere. He loped off as a scream came from within the house. Julian turned towards the sound in time to see his wife run into the burning building.

Praise for No Job For a Woman

This was a marvelous mystery with a flavor of love. Ms. Gloag did an excellent job portraying clues to the riddle of the Grangers hostility toward Deborah. It was easy to get swept up into the power struggles and to hang on with bated breath. Reminded me of a good Agatha Christie mystery. I particularly enjoyed it when Deborah would reason out her theories out loud. Even I could follow along. Naturally, I loved the interactions between Deborah and Julian..... Watching them grow closer and acknowledge their deep love was a victory of their hearts.

Dee Archer

I FOUND MYSELF INFINITELY more interested in the outcome that the characters were going to reach. The suspense built up, as I grew more and more curious to learn what the awful secret that threatened the lives of the protagonists was. ... This is the first book of Sherry Gloag`s that I have read, but even though it didn't quite make it on to my favourites shelf on Goodreads, I'd happily read more of her work.

Alanna

Chapter One

JULIAN FANSHAW IGNORED the other letters in front of him when he recognised the handwriting of his long-time friend Freddie Dalrymple, now Lord Worth. He broke the seal and scanned the single sheet with growing concern.

‘Julian, my friend, I am writing to implore you to put aside whatever plans you have in hand and to set out immediately to stay with us for an indeterminate period of time.’

Thoroughly alarmed, Julian flipped the page over. It had been dispatched more than a week ago.

‘If I bring to mind a certain student up at Oxford with us, and reveal that he and his wife are, and have been, my sister’s neighbours for several years, it will give you but an inkling of the root of my concern.

‘Due to the arrival of his brother upon the scene, and recent events concerning my sister, Deborah, I am persuaded you need not only to know what is happening here, but be on hand to assist in circumventing the consequences of any actions taken against her.

‘I have taken the liberty of gathering some friends together for a couple of shooting parties, thereby creating a reason for your presence.’

Since his return from the Peninsular, Julian had promised himself a trip to Worth’s Norfolk estate. Unfortunately, over the last eighteen months, time and circumstances had worked against him.

Casting the letter aside, Julian strode to the door and called for his butler. I am leaving immediately for Norfolk. Please see that my bags are packed and have my horse ready within the hour.

You do not intend to use your chaise, sir?

No. Arrange for Becket and French to follow me in the chaise with everything I’ll need for a month.

Very good, sir.

WON’T YOU TELL ME WHAT ails you? Lady Henrietta Worth set down her embroidery and cast her lord an anxious glance. You have been at odds since... She leaned forward in her chair as she tried to remember precisely when her usually easy-going and fun-loving husband lost the sparkle in his eyes. ...since you received a letter cutting short our visit to Jane and her children. What is troubling you?

Henrietta smothered a satisfied smile when she flustered her husband, Frederick Dalrymple, the fifth Lord Worth, with her accurate observation. She watched him retrieve a snuff box from his pocket, open the lid with a practiced flick, and use the time to realign his thoughts. It is a small matter Brandon brought to my attention. Do not concern yourself, my love. He took a pinch of snuff, brushed a speck from his sleeve, and paced from his desk to the window and back.

Brandon? Do you mean Deb’s estate manager? Why would he contact you?

As I say, don’t give it a thought. Absently Lord Worth patted his wife’s hand.

Logs settled in the library fireplace, sending a shower of orange sparks up the chimney. Generations of books filled the shelves, and the combination of fresh beeswax and worn leather enveloped the library like an old and much-loved cloak.

Henrietta watched Freddie resume his pacing. He stopped long enough to check his cravat in the mirror above the mantel before striding back to the window and staring outside. She vowed that his gaze never focussed on the landscape beyond.

I am not leaving this room until you tell me what is going on. My sister-in-law is the most capable woman I know. It is inconceivable that she should find herself in a situation she could not handle and which required you to cut short our visit. And I know you had other matters to attend to while we were in Leicestershire.

She watched concern cross Freddie’s face, followed by his acceptance of the inevitable. It pleased her Freddie never mistook her diminutive size as a sign of a meek and missish woman of little spirit. Indeed, like others before him, he’d soon realised she held strong opinions on certain subjects.

If I confide in you, Henri, you must promise it will go no farther.

The familiar way his lips tilted up on one side more than the other usually warmed her heart, but this time she understood his effort to reassure her. She nodded in reply.

I am worried about Deb. According to Brandon, Ned Granger has taken to riding, as bold as you please, across her lands, ignoring all demands to cease his trespassing.

Henrietta shuddered. From what you have told me of the man, he and his brother are as alike as two peas in a pod, uncaring about who they offend in their quest for what they want. I believe few people in and around the county acknowledge either of the Granger brothers because of their obnoxious behaviour. I’m told they take after their grandfather. I never met the man myself, but Papa knew him and described him as ‘an out and out bad lot’. Her neighbours, Henrietta knew, shared her disquiet.

True, my dear, very true. It appears Ned Granger may be setting his cap at Deb.

A ripple of fear trickled down her spine at the thought of her sister-in-law crossing the man, either deliberately or unwittingly. What are you going to do?

With your permission, and knowing how much discomfort your pregnancy is causing you— He patted her hand when she felt the heat climb from her neck to her cheeks. There, there. Did you think I would not notice, or bring you home where you may be comfortable again?

Indeed she had not, and offered a silent apology for her mistake.

I have come to the conclusion— Freddie’s voice interrupted her drifting thoughts, —my dear, think about it. The schedule involved in chaperoning Clara in her come-out this year will be too much for you.

Oh! But she will be so disappointed! Tell me you do not intend to cancel your little sister’s season? She’s talked of nothing else for months.

Do I not know it? Freddie’s rueful grin revealed the number of times he’d listened to Clara’s outpourings upon the subject. And I intend to take advantage of ensuring her dreams remain a reality.

If you will not let me chaperone her, who will you ask? She pondered the options. There’s your aunt in Yorkshire, or your late mother’s cousin, but—

Why, Deborah, of course!

The flourish with which her husband announced his eldest sister’s name reminded Henrietta of a magician pulling pretty paper flowers out of his wand.

I want her gone from Stavely to a place where she will be among company so Granger will have less chance to pursue her, thereby reducing any chance he might manufacture of claiming Deborah has slighted him in some way.

And how’s that supposed to protect her from his attentions? Don’t you think he will follow her to London? I can’t see him wasting his time in the country when the rich pickings will be in town from now until the end of June.

If the rumours are true, the man’s pockets are to let, and no mama worth her salt would agree to squander her daughter’s future on such a bad proposition. If it is so, I hope he will remain in the country for the duration.

Without a persuasive and excellent reason, your sister will never leave Stavely Manor. She loves it so. She frowned in thought. You know how much Deborah hates town life. And if someone rubs her the wrong way, she will turn her shoulder. Then what chance will Clara have of finding a suitable husband?

With a huff, Freddie settled in the chair on the opposite side of the fire.

I intended to have arrangements to refurbish the Town house in hand before our removal from here. Henrietta spoke her thoughts aloud.

Freddie leaned forward and caught her hand in his. I have already arranged to call in the decorators.

You have? Astonishment held Henrietta in her seat.

I have. And I intend to open an account at Drummonds for Deb to draw on. She will need for nothing, nor will her kindness cost her a penny.

To be sure, it is very handsome of you, my lord, but don’t you think the emotional cost to your sister will be greater than the financial burden you are ready to shoulder?

You are letting your imagination run away with you. His eyes softened as they rested on her, warming her blood.

No, I am not. Your sister is happiest in the country. She rose, crossed the floor and knelt at his feet, taking one of his hands in both of hers. She’ll find the months of confinement in Town irksome, and it’ll play on her nerves—

Nerves? Debs? Freddie’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his hairline. She ain’t got a nerve in her body. Good gad, woman, she’s got the best seat in a saddle I’ve seen on a female in my life.

Choking back a shout of laughter, Henrietta schooled her features into a scowl. Be that as it may, she replied coolly, I do not like the idea of you using her in this way.

But that’s the whole point, don’t you see? It is the solution to get Deb away from Stavely Manor without alarming her.

Seriously, you do your sister no kindness in asking her to chaperone Clara.

Freddie leaned forward in his chair and chose a log with studied care before tossing it into the fire. If Brandon hadn’t contacted me, I’d never have considered it. After contemplating the cloud of sparks shooting up the chimney, he settled back in his chair. I considered delaying Clara’s come-out until next year.

She settled back into her chair. Then I am glad you have shelved that option, for Clara would weep and wail the whole way through the intervening months, and I swear, my nerves would not stand it. She grinned. Clara shed more tears of vexation than anyone else they knew. Surely there’s another way to keep Deb safe from the man’s attentions?

Nothing comes to mind immediately. He sighed. "Everyone loves my sister, but no one is in love with her, and it would take a brave man to shackle himself to such an independent woman. And they are thin on the ground locally. He shrugged. They all know her far too well."

Let’s hope, if she agrees to chaperone Clara, she may take some man’s fancy. Glancing at the clock, she rose. It is time for me to interview the housekeeper.

Do not look for me at your table until this evening. I intend to leave immediately for Stavely Manor to speak with Brandon before spending some time with Deborah. He swiped a hand over his brow. I admit I do not look forward to revealing the reason for my visit to my sister.

I do not suppose she will be at all pleased with you, Freddie. Perhaps you could invite her over to join us for a day? If she does not murder you first, perhaps you can persuade her to stay with us overnight. Henrietta rose from her chair and angled her cheek for her husband’s kiss. I will not detain you any longer.

No, wait a moment. Freddie clasped her wrist. "Do you remember my