The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(5)

Several moments later, after scanning the area as if he were looking for something, Con quickened his pace, striding into the inn and bellowing, “Landlord, I must have the landlord now.” Pitching his voice in a higher, more peevish tone, he continued. “Do you not know who I am?”

A man who looked to be in his twenties came running up, untying his apron from around his waist. “My pa will be back directly. May I help you, sir?”

Con leveled his quizzer at the man. “Your lordship—not sir, lordship. I am Lord Braxton. My valet was to have arrived over an hour ago, but I do not see my traveling coach. His orders were to bespeak a bedchamber and private parlor for my use, as well as rooms for him and my grooms and footmen.”

“No—no, my lord. The only guests we have are a—a . . . another party that just arrived.”

So, the landlord and his employees knew not to talk about Lady Charlotte. That was interesting. Were they also involved in the abduction?

Con puffed out his chest, and huffed. “Are you telling me you have no chambers?”

The innkeeper arrived, pushing the younger man out of the way. “My lord.” The landlord bowed low. “We do indeed have a large chamber and a private parlor.”

Con let the landlord soothe his supposedly ruffled feathers for several minutes before he agreed to the accommodations. “However, the fact remains that my valet is lost. I shall need to send my groom back to London. Does a mail coach come through here?”

“Indeed, my lord.” The innkeeper bowed again. “It should be here in two hours.”

He kept the man busy discussing items of which he normally took no notice. After sufficient time had passed to assure Jemmy had been able to speak to Lady Charlotte, Con said in the tone of one who cannot be pleased, “That will do. As for now, I have waited here long enough. I wish to be shown to my chamber.”

The landlord bowed once more. “Please follow me, my lord.”

He strode off after the innkeeper, hoping he’d given Jemmy enough time to find the lady. Con wished to be on the road back to Town before much longer.

*

Charlotte had been given warm wash water and was promised her dinner would arrive shortly. Yet when she had tried to strike up a conversation with the maid who had brought the water and told her what she’d have to eat, the girl’s lips clamped tightly together.

She sighed. “I take it you are not allowed to speak to me beyond what is required.”

The maid nodded. Obviously, there would be no help from that quarter.

Drat. At the very least, she had hoped to discover more information about the inn and where exactly she was in relation to London. Yet, it would have been nice to enlist help in escaping.

After the girl left, Charlotte glanced out of the open windows. She might be able to climb out of them, but there did not seem to be any way to climb down. Aside from that, her chamber faced the street, where anyone would be able to see her.

If only she knew where the two dastards who had abducted her were, she was sure she could pick the lock on the door and sneak downstairs, safe in the knowledge they could not catch her. It would not do her any good at all to run smack into them when she was trying to escape. She was sure the one would make good on his threat to tie her up.

There must be some person in the village from whom she could seek help.

Charlotte peered out the window again. A church steeple rose not far away. Possibly the vicar? Surely a clergyman would consent to aid her and keep her confidence. After all, she did not want everyone and his dog to know she’d been kidnapped. Even if none of this was her fault, it would ruin her reputation if anyone discovered what had happened.

Then again, she did not wish to place anyone else in danger. And there was still the question of who had taken her.

A scratching came from the basket.

Before she did anything else, she had to take care of Collette.

Charlotte opened the basket lid, and the kitten popped up.

Picking the poor little thing up, she scratched her jowls until the cat began to purr. “I know, sweetheart. This has not been a wonderful day.” Going to the space behind the dressing screen, she located the chamber pot, but not the lid. Finally, she found it in a corner. “We shall have to try something new.” At home she and her sister Louisa had taught their kittens to use a board placed over the chamber pot. This would be messier, but at least the lid had leather hinges so that half of it could be folded over the other half, providing some stability for the cat. “Here we go.”

Thankfully, Collette was either too happy to be able to relieve herself or she was a much better traveler than Charlotte could have thought, for she did not complain at all but merely did her duty.

She had just put the kitten down when someone scratched at the door. Goodness, it couldn’t be the maid again so soon. She’d have to hide Collette.

As she lifted the kitten, a childish voice whispered from the other side of the door, “My lady, it’s Jemmy.”

Jemmy? Did that mean some of the other servants had come as well? Was she saved?

Charlotte rushed to the door. “Jemmy, what are you doing here?”

“I remembered how you helped me, and when I saw those men, I jumped on the back of the coach so’s I could help you.”

She had rescued him from one of the criminal organizations that trained young children to pick pockets and other things.