The sound of male voices was clear now and quite near, so she started back down the hall hoping to find a door that led to the outside before she reached the kitchen; there was none, only more windows, one of which was open. Kate didn’t hesitate. Without waiting to consider the alternatives, she dropped her valise out the window and then herself behind it. She landed awkwardly but unhurt. She brushed herself off, picked up her valise, and headed away from the inn as fast as she could.
She found herself in a wide lawn that merged about one hundred and fifty feet away with some grape arbors and fruit trees. A hedgerow and a low brick wall ran along the front of the yard to screen it from the road.
She scurried across the lawn. By the time she reached the cover of the grape arbor, she was out of breath from excitement and the weight of the valise. The hedge gave way to a high brick wall protecting the garden from marauding livestock and hungry little boys. Kate walked steadily forward, confident that before long she would come to a door in the wall. At the far end of the arbor, past the grapes and some espaliered pears, she found what she was looking for: she opened the unlocked door and found herself on a dirty lane in the full glare of sunlight. Behind her was the inn and its grounds; ahead lay the village. She pulled her hood low over her face and started forward.
Kate passed several cottages and shops, a blacksmith’s forge, and at least one ale house before she reached a crossroads. Then she stopped to consider what to do next. She was out of breath and her shoulder ached from the weight of the valise. She looked up and down each street as well as she could, but she didn’t see anything that looked like the Black Crow.
There were only one or two people in the streets, but others watched her from doorways and open windows. In a small village like this, everyone was known by sight, and a lone female on foot was bound to attract attention. She had to get off the street as soon as possible. “Young man,” she said, addressing a small boy heading her way, “can you tell me where I might find the Black Crow?”
The child mumbled something she didn’t understand, pointed in a direction farther along the street, then passed on without looking back. She smiled to herself; her fatal beauty obviously had no effect on seven-year-olds.
Kate picked up her valise and started to pick her way across the road. There had been no rain recently, but the lanes were badly cut up and liberally sprinkled with manure from the carriage traffic of the last two days. Kate’s shoes weren’t made for walking outdoors, certainly not through fouled streets, and even though she held her skirts up as best she could, she reached the other side in a less clean condition than when she began. She shook her skirts vigorously.
She came upon the Black Crow just around a turn in the street and was taken back to discover it was a small, mean building instead of a clean and respectable house like the Cock-in-the-Cradle. The paint was peeling and the yard unswept and littered with the droppings of assorted fowls that picked through its garbage for bits of food.
Kate was unnerved by its squalid appearance, but she hadn’t come this far to allow her courage to fail now. The sounds of merriment coming through an open window gave her the pluck to enter.
The door opened into a dingy room containing several benches along the walls, two doorways, and a shallow stair. A small, battered table held what looked like a register and some other papers. Three men stood near one of the doors which appeared, from the noise one could hear through it, to lead to the taproom. Apparently some of the local inhabitants didn’t believe in waiting until noon to slake their thirst.
Kate stood rooted to the spot. She had never been in a public room before and didn’t know what to expect, but this was definitely not it. She had assumed it would be orderly and run by an elderly couple of unquestionable virtue. Instead, she found herself confronted by three ill-bred men who stared at her with open curiosity. One addressed her rudely in common accents.
“We don’t have no work to give, and we don’t let rooms to females that arrives on foot. State your business and be gone before you gives the place a bad name.” Anger momentarily overcame Kate’s trepidation.
“It already looks like a barnyard. If you’d take the time to sweep your yard instead of abusing honest citizens, you might attract a better class of trade,” she said scornfully. All three men gaped at Kate, and she pulled the hood a little further over her face, her courage waning as her flush of anger died. “Please tell me when the mail coach leaves for London. I wish to book a seat.”
The man wearing an apron detached himself from the group. He was an ungainly individual with no neck and a torso that was much too large for the lower portion of his body. He examined her carefully, as though he were trying to decide what was hidden underneath that great blue cloak and hood. He appeared unwilling to provide the requested information.
The mail does come by here, but not until late afternoon.” He continued to inspect Kate so steadily her bones started to feel like rubber. “It don’t get to London till after midnight though. Now what’s a nice girl like you going to do all by yourself in London after midnight?” He tried to get a look at her face, but Kate, turned her head away.
“That’s no concern of yours,” she said in what she hoped was a voice stern enough to stem his impertinence. “I shall be met when I arrive. All you need do is provide me with a ticket.”
The man’s smile showed several crooked teeth. “Spirited little wench, ain’t you? Where’d you come from anyway? You didn’t come on the mail yesterday. I’d swear to that. Don’t tell me you’re running out on one of them young swells staying at the Cock-in-the-Cradle?” He grinned widely. “Someone’ll be hopping mad when he finds out you’ve skipped.”
“Keep a civil tongue in your head, or I’ll have the sheriff on you. I doubt it’s the custom for innkeepers to insult citizens seeking to take care of their own business. How much is the ticket?”
The two men by the door snickered audibly, and the innkeeper turned surly. “I don’t suppose you’d have two pound six about you, miss?” He clearly expected a negative response. “You cant expect ‘em to let you ride free. Of course there’s always the stage. It’s cheaper, but it ain’t so nice.” Kate opened her valise and took out her purse.
“It would be foolish of me to inquire about a ticket when I didn’t have the means to pay for it, wouldn’t it?” she challenged, but the moment she opened her purse she knew she had made a mistake. She had thoughtlessly placed all the money in her purse, and even though the men could not tell how much she had, they could see she had much more than the necessary two and six. The eyes of the men by the door widened in surprise, but the innkeeper’s narrowed and his manner changed abruptly.
“And of course you’ll be wanting the use of a room to rest a bit and freshen up while you wait for the mail,” he stated affably as Kate searched for some coins small enough to give him. “Or you can look at the shops if you like. I’d be happy to look after your bag for you.”
Kate found the coins she wanted and handed them to him. “No, thank you,” she said curtly. “I’ll come back when the mail coach is ready to leave.”
“But it’ll be an awful long time, miss. You’ll get tired of dragging that bag around with you. Perhaps you’d like to hire the parlor. You could take off that old cloak and be comfortable, or even enjoy a bit of lunch in private.”
Kate was tempted by the last offer. She was tired and heated from her exertions, but she didn’t trust the man; the way his eyes were drawn to her purse made her feel unsafe. She thought of an inn she’d passed on her way. If she were going to hire a room, she’d rather go there. “I don’t think I shall,” she replied, trying to hide her distrust. “Just tell me when the coach will arrive, and I’ll be back in time to meet it.”
“I cant exactly do that, miss.”
“Why can’t you? You do have schedules, don’t you?”
“Yes, but the mail don’t always keep to a schedule.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, sometimes i
t’s early and other times it’s late. You can’t never tell, but mostly it’s early.”
Kate knew nothing about coaches or their ability to keep to a schedule, but she guessed from the broad grins on the faces of the men at the door that the innkeeper wasn’t telling her the truth. “What time do you think it will arrive if it’s early?” she asked, trying to contain her rising exasperation.
“I can’t rightly say.” His glance had turned challenging and his attitude grew more menacing.
“You don’t seem to be able to say much of anything for certain,” she said, forcing a casualness into her voice she didn’t feel. “How do your regular customers ever manage to know when to board?”
“We don’t get much call to ride the mail. Too expensive.”
“And those who can afford it, what do they do?” she insisted.
“Mostly they stays here till it shows up. Now if you was to take a room, or even wait right here by the door out of the cold, you wouldn’t have to worry about being on time. You’d be Johnny-on-the-spot whenever it showed up.”
“I don’t think I want to wait in this place,” Kate said bluntly. Her gaze swept over the room in distaste. “It’s dirty, you probably have bugs, and I don’t trust you not to knock me over the head and take my purse the minute I’m not staring you straight in the eye.” Rude horse laughs from the two by the door confirmed Kate’s suspicions and threatened the innkeeper’s hold on his temper.
Kate picked up her valise and turned to leave, but the innkeeper was between her and the door before she had taken two steps. “You really don’t want to leave yet, miss. Why don’t you have that nice lunch I offered you, or even a pot of hot coffee?” He moved to cut her off as she tried to go around him. “It’s not safe out there. You never know who might sneak up behind you.” There was no pleasantness in his smile.
“And deprive you of the privilege?” Kate taunted, persevering with her brave front. She was beginning to feel anxious to be out of this man’s reach. “Thank you for your concern, but if you’ll just step aside, I would like to leave. I’ll wait for the coach outside where I’m convinced I’ll feel more safe.”
The man showed no signs of allowing her to pass. She looked for another way out, and realized with an unpleasant shock that the two men were no longer lounging against the door. They were standing close behind her, cutting off any possible avenue of retreat. “I asked you to step aside,” she said, trying desperately to keep the fear out of her voice. “Now move out of my way before I give you cause to regret your insolence.” Her heart was pounding so hard she could hardly hear her own voice. She had to clench her fists to keep her hands from shaking.
“I really can’t let you do that, miss. There’s no telling who you might meet out there,” he said as he came a step closer. “And what’s a poor little thing like you going to do without someone to look after her?”
“For the last time, get out of my way. If you come so much as one step closer, I’ll scream so loud every person in the village will be in here within minutes.”
“But what if they don’t hear you?” he asked, and she saw that his hands were no longer at his side.
“They’ll hear this,” she shot back as she opened her purse and reached inside; however, almost immediately the movement was arrested and a look of relief flooded over her face. Thank goodness you’ve come.”
Chapter 8
The innkeeper never saw who hit him; he was spun around and a fist smashed into his face with such force he fell to the floor. The other men disappeared into the taproom, and Kate was left alone to face the full blast of Brett’s fury.
“Only a simpleton would come to a place like this with a purse full of money. You could have been murdered.” Brett was very angry and his voice was raised perilously close to a shout, but Kate thought she could hear a trace of anxiety in his anger.
“I can take care of myself,” Kate flashed, but she couldn’t keep the relief from her voice. “At least I knew what his intentions were from the beginning.”
“I may have made love to you without your invitation, but I wouldn’t hit you over the head for a few pieces of gold or leave your body in a ditch. Besides, you cant deny you responded to me,” he countered, momentarily forgetting her attempt to escape.
Kate turned crimson at the memory of her body’s betrayal, but she was determined Brett would not get the better of her this time; she ignored his remark, preferring to cross swords with him on more firm ground. “I came prepared,” she said, opening her purse. “I took your pistol.” She revealed Brett’s small pearl-handled pistol. “It’s loaded, too.”
Brett broke into such an infectious laugh that Kate’s anger evaporated almost at once. “For a girl who’s been virtually locked away in a castle all her life, you’ve certainly picked up some unexpected quirks,” Brett said, recovering some of his gravity. “Brave but foolish—or are you determined to rid the world of all its thieves and blackguards?” Kate blanched at the reminder of the highwayman she had killed, but the worst of Brett’s wrath was gone, and he spoke in a much kinder voice.
“I know I didn’t treat you very well last night, but there’s no need for you to take this kind of risk to get away from me. Give me your ticket. I’m going to see you safely to London myself.” He tore up the ticket and scattered the pieces over the innkeeper. “Now let’s go back. Mathilda’s worried sick about you.”
“He still has the money I gave him for the ticket,” Kate told Brett as she knelt and began to ransack the innkeeper’s pockets.
“My dear girl,” Brett demurred, “certainly you can stand the loss of a few pounds.”
“I borrowed this money. No,” Kate corrected herself, “I stole it from you, and I’m not leaving until I get it back. At least I shall be spared the additional mortification of having to ask my uncle to repay you.” Kate turned the innkeeper’s pockets out, spilling all kinds of oddments onto the floor, but she couldn’t find her two pounds six. “Would you turn him over for me?”
“Are you so desperate for a few coins?”
“Not desperate, determined. I refuse to be beholden to you for a single shilling,” Kate declared pugnaciously. With one effortless thrust of his boot, Brett turned the innkeeper over on his back. Kate found her money in the inside pocket and carefully counted out the exact amount. “Now we can go,” she said, rising to her feet. She started to pick up her valise but stopped as a mischievous smile played across her lips. Drawing the great hood back so he could feel the full force of her magnificent eyes, Kate favored Brett with a brilliant smile. “Will you help me with my valise this time, or shall I be forced to walk through the streets carrying it myself?” She peeped guilelessly up at him from under fluttering eyelashes.
“Neither,” Brett answered, his sense of humor warring with his sense of pride. “I’ll have Michael send the boot boy back for it.”
“No you won’t,” Kate snapped, her eyes now flashing brightly. “Everything I own of any value is in that valise. If the innkeeper is only half the rogue I think he is, there won’t be anything left for the boy to bring back, including the valise. I’m taking it with me even if I have to drag it through the streets every step of the way.” She snatched Up the valise and stalked toward the door.
“Give me that damned bag,” Brett growled, half angry and half appreciative of the way she’d trapped him. “I’m tempted to throw you and this benighted valise into the first river I come it.” He snatched up the valise from where Kate had set it down, but Kate only favored him with a seraphic smile and preceded him out of the inn. “And when I do, I’m going to make sure you’re securely bound to a sack full of stones,” Brett announced to Kate’s retreating back, a slow grin of appreciation spreading across his face. But they had not gone very far when Brett stopped a boy and paid him to carry the valise the rest of the way. Kate was piqued, but wisely refused to comment.
Mathilda’s anxiety was too great to allow her to wait inside the inn. As soon as she caught sight of the two of
them coming up the lane, she surged forward, rejoicing and scolding, before Kate was within the sound of her voice. “The Lord be praised! I was so worried I didn’t know what to do,” she wheezed as she trotted toward them. “I just knew you were up to something terrible when you kept on about that nasty stage. It worried me so much I went back to the room to try and talk you into staying here. When I found you had gone, I nearly suffered a palsy stroke. It was all I could do to keep from letting out a screech.”
“What she did,” Brett interrupted, grinning at the woman, “was to fall on my neck the minute I stepped inside the door wailing that you’d run off and were certain to be found in a ditch with your head broken.” Brett caught Mathilda in his powerful arms and held her helpless.
“Don’t you dare mishandle me in a public lane, you wicked boy,” she chuckled. “My reputation will be in shreds.”
“You don’t have a reputation to shred. Everyone knows you’re a merciless tyrant who keeps her servants quaking with fear and her long-suffering husband under a cat’s paw.”
“Now you leave off your teasing, Mr. Westbrook,” Mathilda said as she tried to right her apron and settle her cap on her head once more. “I’m sure I’m just as caring of my man as the next.” She self-consciously picked some lint off her dress. “And if I do give him a hint every now and then of how to go on, I’m sure it’s only in the way of being a dutiful wife. As for those maids,” she said, recovering energetically, “if I don’t keep after them day and night, they’ll He abed till breakfast and never get the rooms straightened up before lunch.”
Brett’s eyes danced with merriment, and Kate thought how incredibly handsome he was when he was relaxed and happy. I wish he would look at me like that was the unbidden thought that flashed through her mind. Memories of the comforting strength of his arms caused a faint blush to warm her cheeks. She pulled herself up short recollecting he was a vile seducer and how she had hoped she would never have to see him again, but it was hard to remember when he smiled like that.
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