The Marquis and I (The Worthingtons #4)(64)

“I got that impression from her.”

They had passed through Richmond and the roof of a building showed through the trees. “We should be there soon. What is our plan?”

“We walk in and ask for a chamber for you to refresh yourself, and a private parlor.” They were betrothed, surely that was allowed.

Her face fell a bit. “I thought . . . well, it doesn’t matter. Your idea will work.”

He wondered if she had wanted to do something like what he’d done at the Hare and Hound. “Thank you.”

The inn came into sight. It was much smaller than he had imagined. More of a tavern than an inn, really. He doubted they had more than one or two bedchambers, and those would be taken by the villains. They would very possibly be turned away and directed to the Star and Garter.

Yet, if it was an emergency . . . Perhaps he could indulge her after all. “How dramatic can you be?”

At once, Charlotte’s countenance lit up. “I do quite well in our Christmas theatricals. Do you have in mind something like you did when you rescued me?”

“Indeed.” Con was correct. She did like a bit of drama, and when she looked at him like that, he was happy to provide it.

They arrived at a building with a sign with a white dove on it. As expected, the coach turned into the yard. They followed closely behind.

Charlotte grinned, and cried in a carrying voice, “Oh, I can go no further. I must have something to drink. I am so parched. And the weather is far too warm to bear.”

“Yes, yes, my dear.” He took her fan and began applying it. “You see we are halting here.” He motioned to Jemmy, who ran immediately to the horses before anyone noticed he had not arrived with them.

She and Constantine shared a collusory look before the ostler hurried out to them.

“Help my groom with the horses, man, and be quick about it!” he ordered, lifting her down into his arms, and striding into the inn. “I must have a chamber for my lady. Landlord, landlord! Now, if you will.”

An older man came from down the corridor. “My lord.” The landlord bowed. “Crowe’s the name. We’re honored by yer presence, but I ain’t got the type of lodging ye’d be lookin’ for. There be the Star and Garter in Richmond—”

“I must have a chamber now. My lady can go no further.” The innkeeper looked as if he would argue, and Constantine lowered his voice. “Please, I merely require a room for my lady to rest, and a private parlor.” He had lowered her to her feet and taken out his quizzing glass. “Surely, you can provide such simple accommodations. It is only for an hour or two.” He leaned over and in a low voice said, “I shall pay well. I do not want a hysterical female on my hands for the rest of our journey to the duke’s residence.”

“Whatever ye want, me lord.” The landlord motioned to a young woman who’d come up. “Maisy, show his lord and ladyship to the big front room and tell Mrs. Crowe they’ll be wantin’ tea and whatever she can get together quick-like.”

Con swept Charlotte into his arms again, and she had an opportunity to look over his shoulder. Miss Cloverly, looking more angry than frightened, was being escorted by a man Charlotte hadn’t seen before.

Thank God for small favors. At least she would not be recognized. She decided it was time to swoon.

“Oh, my dear!” she moaned before going limp in Con’s arms.

Maisy opened the door for them and handed Con the key. “There ye be, me lord. I’ll send up some tea. Don’t think she’d be wantin’ ale?”

“Tea will be fine for her ladyship. However, send up a tankard of ale for me, and warm water. She will wish to clean the dust off when she awakens.”

“Yes, me lord.”

“Oh, and miss”—Con flipped her a half crown—“see that my groom knows where I am and has something to eat, if you will.”

“Pleasure, me lord.” Through slitted eyelids Charlotte could see the girl grin.

Maisy sauntered off as Constantine set Charlotte’s feet on the floor once more. “That part went easily enough,” she said. “Now how do we capture Miss Betsy and save Miss Cloverly, who, by the looks of her, is furious?”

He removed his hat and gloves, placing them on a bureau. “That is going to take some planning. If only we knew when Miss Betsy was arriving.”

“Perhaps Jemmy could find out.” Charlotte drew out the hat pin from her bonnet and placed it next to his gloves.

“Charlotte, he is a child,” Constantine said, clearly unhappy about involving the boy. He, however, did not yet know Jemmy’s past.

“Yes, but an extremely enterprising one, and he is clever. He lived on the streets before I found him and knows better than to take stupid risks.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Constantine frowned. “Very well, we’ll ask him.”

Charlotte gave him an encouraging smile, but Con wasn’t at all happy about having a child help them. He’d just as soon send the boy back to Richmond.

Yet when Jemmy arrived a few moments later, he was full of news. “They got Miss Cloverly three doors down near the stairs. How are we going to rescue her?”





Chapter Twenty-Two


“Wait a minute.” Con was shocked that Jemmy could have discovered the information so quickly. “How do you know that?”