And who knew? There was always the outside chance she would meet the man of her dreams in Blackmore. Though their invitations were widely sought after, both Nicholas and Grace were notoriously particular about who they asked into their home. At the very least, their guest list was never boring.
All Mercy had to do was get through the next two and a half months. And really, who was going to be interested in a spinster on her third season?
The sudden crackling of the fire interrupted her reverie, and just as she realised the room was beginning to get uncomfortably hot, the door opened abruptly, admitting Flossy who promptly came charging across the room to throw herself into Mercy’s lap.
‘Tare an’ hounds,’ the Reverend groaned, stomping in behind the little dog, ‘It’s hotter than Satan’s ear wax in here.’
‘Nonsense, Augustus,’ countered Agnes, seating herself at the table. ‘I instructed them to stoke up the fire.’ The matron nodded in satisfaction at the roaring flames, now in danger of setting fire to anything within a ten-yard radius. ‘Naturally, I did not want to risk getting an ague in this unseasonal weather.’
The Reverend mopped at his brow ‘I don’t know about an ague, I’ll be done to a crisp just in time for dinner, the only thing missing’ll be a deuced apple between me teeth.’
‘I doubt the fire will continue to burn so vigorously for much longer,’ Mercy predicted, fanning her perspiring face. ‘And anyway, I’m confident the innkeeper will be here directly.’
‘I certainly hope so,’ Agnes declared, ‘I’d risk a cropping for a large sweet sherry.’
***
On entering the bar and dining room, Nate made sure to keep his back to the candles as much as he could. The room was almost full, with most of the patrons already eating. Hanging back by the door, he searched the room for a young well-dressedwoman and a priest. After a few minutes his heart sank. There was nobody in the room even remotely fitting that description.
His eyes roamed the area again as he weighed his options. He couldn’t very well search every bedchamber, so if they’d been and gone or didn’t come down to dinner at all, his only recourse would be to watch for them in the morning when likely he wouldn’t be the only one. Any attempt he made to get them to safety would be doomed before he’d even tried. To make matters worse, there were several well-dressed gentlemen in the room – any one of them might be the would-be abductor and would be sure to notice any interaction. Nate gritted his teeth in frustration, tempted to wash his hands of the whole smoky business.
After a few more seconds deliberation, he stepped away from the door, and strode over to the bar, Ruby at his heels. A tankard of ale would at least give him a legitimate reason to be there. The barmaid eyed his scar as she poured, but otherwise made no comment.
Nodding his thanks, Nate took his pint to a small empty table in the corner and prepared to wait. After about twenty minutes, he noticed a serving girl carrying a tray laden with food out of the dining room and into a narrow passageway. When she came back a couple of minutes later, the tray was empty. Clearly, she was taking the food somewhere. Moments later the innkeeper went the same way carrying a tankard of ale and what looked like two glasses of sherry.
One man and two women? That made sense. Gently bred ladies did not usually travel without another female chaperone. Feeling a rising sense of apprehension mixed with relief, Nate watched for a little while longer. Were they eating in their bedchambers? As far as he could tell, the passageway also led to the stairs. Butno, it would have taken a lot longer to take the food and drink all the way upstairs. There had to be a private room.
Could he access it without the occupants screaming the place down the moment he went through the door? He took a sip of his pint and glanced round the room. No one appeared to be paying him any attention. The candlelight cast people-shaped shadows on the wall, creating an almost dreamlike atmosphere and turning his disfigurement into a prop from a mummers play. It was now or never.
Casually, Nate finished his pint and rose to his feet. He didn’t have to tell Ruby to stay with him as he sauntered casually towards the passageway, trying to look as if he had every right to be there. If it had been daytime, he would have stuck out like a sore thumb, but as far as he could tell, no one even glanced his way.
Once he’d entered the passageway and was out of sight of the diners, he paused to get his bearings. After a few yards, the narrow corridor opened up into a square hallway with a set of stairs disappearing up into the gloom. There were two doors. Glancing back behind him, Nate strode quickly to the first one and listened. There was no noise coming from the other side. Cautiously, he pushed open the door. The room beyond was dark and clearly empty. He shut the door again and moved to the next one, inclining his head to listen. For a second he thought he’d been wrong, but then he heard voices.
Heart thudding, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door.
Chapter Four
Thankfully, the fire didn’t continue to rage, and Mercy couldn’t help breathing a sigh of relief once she was no longer afraid it might burn the whole inn down with them in it.
Their dinner, when it finally arrived, consisted of a bowl containing what the serving girl described as, ‘cock wi gin.’ For once the Reverend appeared lost for words while Agnes immediately began rummaging in her reticule for her salts. Looking down at her plate, Mercy simply hoped it was chicken swimming in the dark gravy.
Despite the unpromising start however, the food turned out to be surprisingly tasty and before long all three of them were tucking in happily. A few minutes later, the innkeeper himself came in with their drinks, and Agnes benevolently pronounced the sherrypassableusing the nasally twang she typically reserved for tradesmen and Percy Noon’s mother, Mary.
Mercy was just contemplating whether a hunk of bread to mop up the juices would be too unladylike, when, without warning, the door was pushed open again. Looking up in surprise, any other retort she might have made died in her throat. It was the scarred man she’d seen from the window. Her heart thuddedwith a mixture of fear and … something else, but before she had the chance to examine it, Flossy caught sight of the small terrier at the man’s heels and set up a cacophony of barking.
To her alarm, the man ordered his dog inside and promptly shut the door while Reverend Shackleford hurriedly tossed his napkin onto the table and stood up. ‘What the devil do you think you’re doing?’ he blustered.
The man stepped forward, holding out his hands in an unmistakeable gesture of conciliation. ‘Before you shout for help, I beg you to listen.’ His voice was unquestionably cultured, but as he stepped into the candlelight, the shadows made his face look almost demonic. A second later, Agnes gave a small moan before sliding slowly off her chair, landing on the floor with a loud thud.
‘Grandmama!’ Mercy gasped, jumping up and hurrying round to the matron. Raising her skirt, she got onto her hands and knees, completely forgetting about the man for a moment.
After a few seconds, Agnes’s eyes fluttered open. ‘Salts,’ she croaked, raising a limp hand.
‘Here they are, my dove.’ For a second, Mercy wondered who the Reverand was talking to until the small bottle was held out in front of her.
Taking it from him, she held it near to the matron’s nose, wafting it gently.
‘Thunder an’ turf, even Flossy wouldn’t smell that,’ the Reverend declared after a second. ‘Here, give it to me.’ Laboriously he got down onto the floor as Mercy obligingly handed him the bottle and sat back on her heels to give him room, only to watch incredulously as he practically stuffed the bottle up his wife’snose. However, it appeared to do the trick and after a couple of seconds, Agnes came round enough to ask if there was any more sherry.
