This wasn't exactly how Sam had imagined his arrival in Tilbury. Sat on his arse in the middle of a dirt road with a pretty blonde in his lap, he reckoned that this was one of the least graceful entrances he'd made in his life. The black dog that had stolen his wooden leg earlier excitedly jumped around them, scaring the horse Sam had hired one village over after getting off the coach.

With a whinny, the horse bolted.

Sam cursed under his breath. His cane was still attached to the saddle. While he could get around without it most of the time, there were days when his hips and thigh ached if he was on his feet too long, and the cane helped take some pressure off.

The young woman in his lap stared at the fleeing horse, her dark-blue eyes wide and her mouth ajar. How could one slight woman upend everything in such a short time? There must be a prize to win for such a feat. Her gaze shifted to meet his, and she blinked as if only just now realising the awkwardness of their position.

"I..." She glanced over at the receding horse again and swallowed.

"You're sorry?" he guessed. "Yes, you seem to be sorry an awful lot."

"More than I care to admit."

Her admission made his lips twitch. He cleared his throat. "Would you mind...?"

"Oh." She scrambled to her feet, her cheeks tinting pink. "I'm so—" His smile halted her words, and she made a wry face.

The dog sat down next to Sam, apparently satisfied with its efforts. Sam wrinkled his nose as the animal's hot, smelly breath hit his face. This day was definitely not one of his best. Miss Edwards was busy patting the dust off the skirt of her light-blue, daisy-patterned dress, allowing him a moment to debate how to best get off the ground. The wooden leg allowed him to live a mostly regular life, but certain things were still more difficult than they would be for a man with two intact legs. Getting his arse off the road was one of those things. He could do it. But definitely not gracefully.

Miss Edwards tucked an errant lock of blond hair behind her ear before looking down at him. Seeing the dog panting next to him, she smiled. "He likes you."

"Oh, joy."

A slight frown met his droll reply.

Her eyes strayed to his legs. "Do you need help to get up?"

He desperately wanted to say no. But it would be a lot easier with help, so he nodded. She held a hand out, and he grasped it. With her help, he got his good leg into a position where he could push himself up while holding her arm. After brushing the dirt off his riding breeches, he gave her a curt bow.

"Thank you, Miss Edwards."

"It's nothing." She waved his words away with her hand. "It's the least I can do."

That was probably true. If not for her and her dog, he wouldn't have been on the ground in the first place. Or have lost his horse. It was probably halfway back to the village where he'd rented it by now. At least the Rose Agency had sent his luggage ahead to the Newtons, so he wouldn't be without clothes.

When he'd accepted this case from the private investigation firm he worked for, he had expected it to be a nice little sojourn in the countryside. A pleasant break from the hustle and bustle of London. It still might be, but he wasn't off to a great start.

Rolling his shoulders, he sighed. "Shall we continue to Tilbury?"

"Yes, of course." His unsolicited companion started the walk towards the village again. She gave him a hesitant smile as he followed and the dog bounded ahead of them. "It's not far," she promised.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, and he was rather enjoying it. The sun was shining and a slight breeze played with their hair. His was finally drying after his swim. In hindsight, it had been a foolish decision to wash off in the lake. But he had felt grimy and dirty after two days on a coach, and he hadn't wanted to arrive at the Newtons' looking like he'd walked in off the streets.

Not knowing the family himself, he wanted to make a good impression. Their daughter—Miss Olivia Newton—was a friend of the owner of the Rose Agency and his wife, and when asked if she would house another guest this summer, she had kindly agreed. The least he could do was to look clean and proper.

"What brings you to Tilbury of all places?" Miss Edwards asked, interrupting his thoughts.

He smiled blandly. He couldn't very well tell her he was working on a case. That someone in her village might be blackmailing a member of the peerage. An earl. It was his job to find out what exactly was going on.

"I wanted to get away from London for a break," he said. "Friends recommended visiting the Newtons. They mentioned how beautiful the village is."

She looked up at him as if he had just told her the sun was green. "Really?"

When he raised an eyebrow, she smiled.

"I mean, Tilbury isn't bad," she said. "But as I mentioned, we don't get a lot of visitors, so I'm not sure who would sing its praises."

"Did you not just tell me that the Newtons have several guests this summer?"

"Yes, but that is rather out of the ordinary."

He watched the young woman walking next to him. She was pretty, with golden-blond hair pulled back in a simple bun at the back of her head. Several tendrils had come loose when she had run after the dog, framing a face with a wide mouth, high cheekbones, and a slender nose. Dark eyelashes framed a pair of dark-blue eyes, and a scattering of freckles graced her cheeks and nose.

There was a skip to her step that amused him, as if she had a little too much energy to just walk. If she knew the area, maybe she could be useful to his investigation.

"Have you always lived in Tilbury?" he asked.

"My whole life," she said, her tone indicating that it wasn't a positive thing in her mind.

They reached the top of a hill along the road, and the village of Tilbury spread out below them, nestled in a green valley. A small river crossed the area, with a stone bridge leading across the water into what looked like the main street through the village. Houses of local stone and brick edged the road, and a church tower could be hinted in the distance.

"The Newtons' house is on the other side of the village," Miss Edwards told him, then she pointed back to where they had come from. "I live in Orchard Cottage, which is off the side of the road we just came in on."

He nearly missed a step. Orchard Cottage. His eyes strayed back to the smiling young woman. She lived at the address the agency had asked him to investigate. Remaining on her good side was becoming even more important. How did she figure into the equation? Judging from her youthful appearance, she was far too young to be involved, but one could never be too sure.

An earl's daughter had hired the Rose Agency to find out why her ailing father—whose finances she had taken over—was sending a considerable amount of money to this address twice a year. And had been for a number of years. She was concerned that he was being blackmailed, and Sam was there to find out if that was the case, and if so, about what.

Befriending someone in the target household would be the perfect way to gain access and to find out more about the people who lived there.

"Perhaps you would consider showing me around and telling me about the village and people?" He flashed her what he hoped was a charming smile. "If the Newtons already have several guests, I do not want to impose on them further, and I love hearing about the history and inhabitants of areas I visit."

"Oh." Her nose crinkled for a moment before she smiled brightly. "That would be lovely! Are you sure? I feel like I have not made the best impression."

He chuckled. That might be the understatement of the century, but despite everything, he quite enjoyed her company and who could say no to spending a little more time with a pretty, young woman? Certainly not he. And if a little light flirting could get him closer to the people he needed to investigate, then all the better.

"You've certainly made an impression," he teased.

With her cheeks tinted pink, she looked even prettier. Maybe his time in Tilbury would be much more interesting than he had thought.

"Well," she muttered. "I don't know if that is a good thing."

"It is." He winked and was rather pleased to see her cheeks darkening another shade.

As they walked through the village to reach the Newton residence on the other side, Miss Edwards pointed out locations that might interest him. Being a small village, there weren't a huge amount of shops, but there were the usual trades: two grocers, a baker, and a few others. There was also a local pub with an inn, but the agency had decided he would appear much more respectable as a visitor if staying with the Newtons rather than at the inn. It had been a stroke of luck that their case was somewhere they had connections.

It didn't take long for them to reach Tuckton House. The large house sat at the end of a long road overshadowed by tall lime trees. It was a well-kept stone building with mullioned windows and ivy clinging to most of its facade.

From what Sam knew, the Newtons were a wealthy family, but with ties to trade that some of the gentry might look down upon. They were not titled, but Lady Elizabeth Newton was the sister of the Duke of Ashbrook. They had fallen out when she married a man the duke considered far beneath her but had patched things up some years ago. He had memorised everything he could from the files they had, but other than the Newtons and what they knew of Viscount Ravenscroft, whose estate lay further outside the village, the agency had little information on Tilbury and its residents.

The shaggy black dog ran up to the front door and barked, not inclined to wait for the humans, who were a little slower.

Miss Edwards groaned. "I have told him not to do that." She hurried her steps to catch up to the dog, pulling him away from the door and scolding him just as a butler opened.

"Miss Edwards." The butler's bushy moustache quivered as he glanced at the dog and the wings of his nose flared.

"I'm sorry, Norwell! He gets excited when he gets here. Cook always hands him scraps from the kitchen."

The butler nodded curtly before his gaze shifted to Sam. "Mr Hemsworth?" he queried. "We have been expecting you. I hope Miss Edwards and her dog have not been bothering you."

Sam fought back a startled smile from how the butler spoke about Miss Edwards. It appeared she had a reputation in the village. He shouldn't be surprised. "Not at all," he lied. "She kindly offered to show me the way when I got lost."

"Let's get you settled in, sir." The butler looked around before frowning slightly. "Excuse me, sir, did you walk all the way from Romsborne?"

"It's a long story." And not one he was willing to divulge, so he simply smiled blandly until the butler opened the door further to let them inside.

The dog, possibly having smelled whatever was cooking in the kitchens, wrenched itself free of Miss Edwards's grasp and bounded into the house. After a quick apologetic smile, Miss Edwards followed the dog inside. Sam continued in after them at a much more leisurely pace. The skirt of the light-blue dress was already disappearing behind a corner as the butler closed the door behind them.

"This way, sir."

As Sam followed the butler upstairs, he threw another glance over his shoulder, but there was no sign of Miss Edwards. What did she say her name was? Ivy. It suited her. Ivy was a beautiful plant in the right places, but could easily grow out of control and become invasive. But under the right circumstances, it was the perfect addition to one's house and garden, as a beautiful decorative plant that also provided many benefits.

This young woman might prove the most interesting part of his trip. He hoped he could see her again soon. A wry smile made the corners of his mouth twitch. As long as her dog didn't steal his leg again.   

~~~~~~