Hope inhaled sharply, taken aback by such hostility. Never in her life had someone spoken to her so rudely.
“Excuse me?”
“Yer heard me, ya damn English pidgin,” he said, attempting to clean out a dirty glass with a soiled rag.
Hope's eyes flickered to the man's hands before lifting back to meet his gaze. Swallowing hard, she held her chin up and tried again.
“Mr. Jacob Pennington?” she pressed on. “He is supposedly staying here for a few days.”
The barman shifted closer to the two suspicious characters. Hope followed his gaze, but the two only huddled together, covering their faces with their hands. Hope consideredgoing over to confront them, but the barman's voice sounded behind her.
“Ack, is it that,” he tipped his chin across the room, “English prat you be wanting fer?”
Hope's head whipped back around to see the feet of a man descending the stairs.
“Hope?” Jacob said as he saw her.
The crisp, cultured accent was so drastically different from the barman that Hope nearly didn’t understand him at first.
“I can’t believe you’re really here,” he said, coming to her with his hands out stretched, looking behind her. “Did you come alone?”
“Yes,” she said as he pulled her towards a table. She sat down as he pulled out the chair for her and then moved around to sit down himself.
“That wasn’t very smart,” he said, frowning. “It’s dangerous around here.”
His gaze traveled past Hope's shoulder. She looked back and noticed the barman and the two other individuals were staring at them.
“It’s all right,” she said, facing him again. “I’ve been back and forth on the main road many times in the past few months.”
“Still. Perhaps we should find some privacy,” Jacob said standing as he nodded his head towards the stairs.
An internal self-preservation alarm immediately sounded within her. Besides, she wasn’t all that excited to be alone with Jacob. In fact, she would much prefer to stay in the view of others while they spoke.
She remained seated.
“I'm not sure that is a good idea,” she said. “This is just fine.”
Jacob bent forward.
“I don't think it would be wise to continue this discussion here,” he said in a low voice.
Hope frowned, but followed Jacob’s darting eyes. The two men who were sitting in the far corner seemed very interested in her. They were staring intently and a sick feeling began to crawl up her spine.
“Very well, but only for a moment,” she said standing and followed him up the narrow staircase.
The inn was ancient and not well-kept. There were four doors along the hallway upstairs, and Hope followed Jacob into the first room on the left. It was a dingy, sparsely filled room, but there was a length of yellow and blue plaid slung over a chair in the corner. Hope wrinkled her nose at the stench of smoke in the room.
“Jacob, what are you doing here?” she asked, only to be stopped by his raised hand.
“I'm so happy you've reconsidered my offer, Hope. I knew you would eventually come to your senses.”
“Come to my senses?”
“Yes. My letter convinced you.”
Hope frowned.
“Your… oh, no,” she said as the realization dawned on her. “No, Jacob, that's not why I've come here.”
