“Miss Martin?” the landlord said, smiling jovially at her. She didnotsmile back. “I have your rooms ready for you, ma’am. You may go up immediately.”
“Thank—” Claudia got no further.
“I trust,” the marquess said, “they are the best rooms in the house?”
“All our rooms are superior, my lord,” the landlord assured him. “But the front rooms have been reserved by Mr. Cosman and his cousin.”
The marquess had come to stand just behind Claudia’s shoulder. She could not see his face, but she could see the landlord’s. The marquess did not say another word, but after a moment the landlord cleared his throat.
“But I am quite certain,” he said, “the two gentlemen will be only too happy to give up their rooms for the use of such charming ladies and take the two overlooking the stable yard instead.”
Where Claudia had stayed each time she had put up at this inn before. She remembered a great deal of noise and light in those small rooms all night long, robbing her of sleep.
“The ladies must certainly have the front rooms,” the landlord said, smiling once more at Claudia. “I must insist upon it.”
As if she had argued against it. And yet perversely she wanted to argue and she wanted those inferior rooms. She wouldnotbe beholden to the Marquess of Attingsborough for more comfortable rooms. Good heavens, she was an independent woman. She did not need any man to fight her battles.
“And you have a private dining room?” he asked before she could say a word.
Claudia’s nostrils flared. Was she to be humiliated even further?
“Mr. Cosman…” the landlord began. But yet again he paused as he looked at the marquess. “It will be set aside for the ladies as is only right, my lord, the rest of my clients tonight being all gentlemen.”
Claudia knew just exactly what had happened. The Marquess of Attingsborough must have raised an aristocratic eyebrow a couple of times. And the landlord had almost fallen all over himself to show how obsequious he could be. It was despicable, to say the least. All because of who the marquess was, or, rather, because of the color of his blood. He was probably nothing more than an idle…rake,and yet all the world would bow and scrape to him because he had a title and doubtless pots of money to go with it.
Well,shewould not bow or scrape. She turned to face him. He was smiling that easy, charming smile—and then he winked at her.
He actuallywinked!
And of course he was still looking gorgeous even after a day spent in the saddle. He was tapping his riding whip against the outside of his leather boot. He looked long-limbed and virile and…Well, that was quite enough. He even smelled good—of horse and some cologne mingled together into a peculiarly enticing masculine scent.
Claudia looked at him steadily, her lips pressed together in a thin line. But the wink had thrown her off stride for a moment, and then it seemed too late and too petty to declare that she would be quite happy with the small rooms and the public dining room.
Edna and Flora were looking at him too—gazing worshipfully,in fact. As ifthatwere any surprise.
“Come along, girls,” Claudia said briskly. “We will retire to our rooms if the landlord will give us directions.”
She strode toward their bags.
“You will have the ladies’ baggage taken up immediately?” the marquess said. Clearly he was addressing the landlord.
“Of course, my lord,” the landlord said, clicking his fingers as Claudia’s nostrils flared. “I was about to give the order.”
Two—not one buttwo—menservants came running as if from nowhere, scooped up the bags, and headed in the direction of the staircase with them.
Claudia strode after them and the girls came after her.
The rooms, of course, were sizable and comfortable chambers, which overlooked the edge of town and the quiet fields beyond. They were clean and filled with light and were altogether above reproach. The girls squealed with delight and hurried to the window of their room to lean on the windowsill and gaze out at the scenery. Claudia withdrew to her own room and sighed with self-reproach as she admitted to herself that it really was vastly superior to the usual one. She stretched out on the bed to relax for a few minutes.
He had actuallywinkedat her. She could not remember the last time any man had done that. Goodness, it probably had not happened since she was a girl.
How dare he!
But oh, the room was quiet and the bed was comfortable and the air coming through the open window was fresh. There was a single bird trilling its heart out. She actually dozed off for a while.
And then she dined with the girls in the comfort and relative quiet of the private dining room on roast beef and potatoes and boiled cabbage followed by suet pudding and custard and tea. She was forced to admit afterward that she felt restored and very relieved that they had not been expected to share the room with the Marquess of Attingsborough. Both girls looked slightly sleepy. She was about to suggest that they all retire for the night even though it was still light outside and really quite early when there was a tap on the door and it opened to reveal the marquess himself.
“Ah,” he said, smiling and inclining his head. “Miss Martin? Young ladies? I am delighted that this inn boasts at least one private parlor. I have been regaled throughout dinner with conversation on crops and hunting and boxing mills.”
