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    Miss Jacobson's Journey
    Miss Jacobson's Journey
    Miss Jacobson's Journey
    Ebook253 pages3 hours

    Miss Jacobson's Journey

    By Carola Dunn

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    About this ebook

    Having refused the man her parents chose for her, Miriam Jacobson finds herself smuggling gold across Napoleon's France to Wellington in Spain, accompanied by two attractive young men, both of whom detest her--and each other. High adventure and romance in the best Regency tradition. [Rothschild Trilogy Book 1] Regency Romance by Carola Dunn; originally published by Walker
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherBelgrave House
    Release dateMar 15, 1112
    ISBN9780966064339
    Miss Jacobson's Journey
    Author

    Carola Dunn

    CAROLA DUNN is the author of many mysteries featuring Daisy Dalrymple, including Sheer Folly, Gone West and Heirs to the Body, as well as numerous historical novels. Born and raised in England, she lives in Eugene, Oregon.

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    • 3/5
      An entertaining piece of fluff set during the Napoleonic Wars. Passed the time very nicely

    Book preview

    Miss Jacobson's Journey - Carola Dunn

    dreams.

      Chapter 3

     Here are pens and ink for your letter, Fräulein. Herr Rothschild crossed to the desk and took some sheets of paper from a drawer. Cohen, the lady goes with you. He spoke in Yiddish now. I must make final arrangements. I shall return shortly.

    Miriam was distantly aware that Mr. Cohen uttered an unheeded protest. She was all too aware of Lord Felix’s rude appraisal, swiftly followed by sneering dismissal.

    What did he say, Cohen? his lordship enquired in English in a haughty tone.

    Miss Jacobson goes with us, said the other curtly. The air between them crackled with animosity.

    As she moved to the desk she turned her attention to Isaac Cohen. Nathan Rothschild’s agent, a year or two older than his lordship and a trifle taller, but more slenderly built, was dressed in a fashion less elegant than businesslike. His hair was dark, crisply springing from a broad brow, and his dark eyes stared at her with undisguised hostility.

    He looked vaguely familiar. Seating herself at the desk, Miriam wondered momentarily whether she had met him before. Surely she would have remembered him; he was really rather good-looking in his own way, though not to be compared with the arrogant Lord Felix.

    Dipping a quill pen, she began to write to the Benjamins, but already she had half a mind to back out of her agreement with Jakob. Neither of her prospective travelling companions had exactly greeted her advent with delight. In fact, while she wrote she listened with mingled amusement and indignation as they grudgingly united in opposition to taking her with them. They appeared to dislike that idea even more than they disliked each other.

    Hannah, who had come to stand behind her, bent down and whispered, God forbid we should stay where we’re not wanted, Miss Miriam.

    It doesn’t look promising, does it? She signed the note, blotted and folded it, though far from certain it would be needed. Only, what if we can’t find anyone else to help us cross the Channel?

    There’ll be others, God willing, as won’t send you to Spain afore they’ll send you to England.

    I’d like to help that English general--but you are right. To travel so far with two gentlemen who resent our presence would be foolish. Herr Rothschild will find someone else. I hate to continue to impose upon the Benjamins, though.

    They’re glad to have us, for your uncle’s sake. Let’s be off.

    No, I cannot just walk out on Herr Rothschild. We shall wait until he returns.

    An uncomfortable silence enveloped the room’s occupants. Lord Felix stood at the window, looking out, his fingers tapping impatiently on the sill. Mr. Cohen strode up and down the room, frowning. His lithe pacing reminded Miriam of a black panther she had once seen at the Tower of London zoo.

    Neither of them so much as glanced at her, and she realized that neither had spoken a word directly to her. The situation was impossible.

    Taking another sheet of paper, she drew a swift sketch of a lion and a panther snarling at each other. In one corner two female figures fled shrieking, while in another a troop of French grenadiers took aim at the bellicose cats. She was adding Jakob Rothschild, in the form of a fox, to the drawing, when he himself came in.

    All arrangements are made, he announced.

    Miriam jumped to her feet and sped towards him. She and the two others converged on him, all talking at once though Lord Felix must have known his English would not be understood.

    Young Jakob was unruffled. Somehow Miriam found herself being escorted to a chamber where her and Hannah’s belongings were piled. Hannah had stayed behind in the office. In her place, a thin, severe-looking Frenchwoman, all in black, with urgent, irresistible determination helped her to change into a dark blue woollen dress. Her protests were brushed off like an irritating fly, and while she combed out her ringlets and swiftly braided her hair, the boxes were

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