When Rory was once again distracted with her meal, I passed Alfie my drink, trading him for the empty glass.
Unlike my opponents earlier, Rory wasn’t fooled by my sleight of hand. “Alfie, for Christ’s sake. Three roasts and what is this, yer third drink? Are ye gonnae eat the table too?”
“With the right sauce,” he retorted, drinking deeply.
“And ye, yer encouraging him,” she accused.
“Sorry, Rory. I was only thinking it was time to ready for bed. It’s been a long day, you know.”
“Aye, with that boisterous game of traveling piquet ye two played, it’s no wonder.”
Kit coughed and withdrew his hand to scratch at the back of his neck. “I’ll go gather our things. Alfie, a little help?” He didn’t wait for the boy to object, instead yanking him away. Alfie still clutched the half-finished glass of whiskey in one hand, attempting to tip it back while stumbling forward.
Rory watched them leave before glancing around to ensure privacy. “All right, lass. We’ve only a few moments. Ye ken how to prevent conception?” she whispered.
“I don—that’s not a concern.”
“Dinnae play me for a fool. He may have gotten a room for each of ye, but ye have no intention of using it.”
“I—he won’t.” I sighed, frustrated with fits and starts. “He says that he won’t… risk getting me with child until we’re wed. There won’t be… penetration.”
“He may say that, but men lie.”
“Not Kit.”
She rolled her eyes. “Well, regardless. That would be the best option to prevent conception. But assuming he’s a man and ye’re a foolhardy, reckless girl with more audacity than sense, ye best not allow him to finish in yer… you know.”
“I do know. I’ve had this talk already. But—I cannot have you thinking so ill of Kit. He would never. He was very concerned about my consent.”
“Oh, I ken. He is a chatty little thing. I wouldnae have expected it of him, if I’m honest. It’s always the quiet ones though, I suppose.”
“Rory!”
“What? Did ye think the carriage walls were impenetrable? It’s better than the one we set out in, but it’s not brick and mortar, lass.”
“You cannot say anyth—Kit would die.”
She offered me a crooked smile. “I’ll not say anything to the lad. If he were anyone else, he’d be sitting up front with Alfie while I enjoyed a plush coach cushion. But it’s clear he loves ye. And I think he’s good for ye. Ye need someone practical. Someone to tell ye it’s a terrible idea to kidnap a man ye barely know and drive him to Scotland in a great heap of a carriage. But someone that will go with ye anyway.”
“He’s not?—”
“In love with ye? Oh, lass, that lad was desperately in love with ye long before I ever set eyes on him.”
“He’s just worried about my reputation. It’s not—he would do the same for anyone.”
“Ye’re still wearing his mother’s ring.” She grabbed her glass, taking a pointed sip of the whiskey. Clearly she felt that she had made some kind of point. But it was truly for convenience’s sake. I could give it back. I would.
Before I could offer my protests, Kit and Alfie returned with my trunk and Kit’s bag. They clambered up the stairs just past the bar.
I hadn’t consciously decided to move, only recognizing that I had when the drag of the chair against the wooden floor registered in my consciousness. “I think I’ll retire for the night.
“I’m sure ye will. See if you can have yer solicitor bring in my bag before he beds ye.”
“Rory!”
“Yes, ye’re terribly scandalized. Ye should’ve thought about that before ye did whatever I had to listen to in that carriage.I’mscandalized.”
Hands pressed to my flushed cheeks, I turned and made my way up the rickety stairs to where Kit and Alfie were leaving a room.
