Vanessa started. She was amazed that such a giant man could move so silently. Barrel-chested, well over six feet tall, Donnan MacCabe stood beside her, arms crossed, his face expressionless. Donnan and his brother, Calum, were related to her great-grandfather, and therefore distantly to her.
“Yes, they’re traveling north, too, and I’ll likely be with them until I turn west toward my mother’s house.” And then recalling the crowded inn, she added, “There aren’t any more rooms available here for you and your brother.”
“Calum rode ahead tae get one for us,” he said, then warned, “If yer accosted on the road again, lass, we will intervene.”
“Suit yourself, just don’t tell my traveling companions that you’re with me.”
“Yer no longer alone, so why not?”
“Because I still don’t need guards to protect me, and I don’t want anyone to think I do.”
Donnan still didn’t look happy. “Yer father might think ye especially need tae be guarded when yer traveling with three male strangers.”
At the mention of her father, she relented. “We can say you’re my servants and we got separated, but you’ve caught up to me. But can you try to look a little less lethal?”
His laugh was a bass rumble. “If ye’ve an idea how, I’m listening.”
She tsked. “At least wait until midmorning tomorrow. I’m too tired to explain tonight.”
Returning to the inn, she found the odd pair sitting at one of the tables with Arlo, which was a surprise. Servants usually didn’t sit with their masters, but since Arlo had been with Charley since the day he was born, he was obviously more than a servant to the boy. And besides, there were only a few tables in the dining room, and all of them were occupied by other travelers.
“There wasn’t much to order,” Monty said as she sat down across from him. “Normal stew or stew with extra meat, and you look like you could use more muscle, so extra meat you shall have.”
She looked down at the large bowl in front of her and saw chunks of meat but no vegetables. Charley, who was seated next to her, had the same, so she said, “Yes, we boys are sadly lacking in those.”
Charley shoved his cloak to the side, lifted his arm, and flexed it. She was annoyed to see a slight bulge rise in his upper arm beneath his jacket, disproving her remark. But then he looked at her, obviously waiting for her to show off her muscles.
She snorted. “This isn’t a bloody competition.”
Charley laughed, apparently deciding he’d won. He was also drinking wine with the two men, and Monty picked up the bottle on the table to pour some in her empty glass. She quickly put her hand over it, shaking her head. He raised a brow, but she dropped her eyes to her bowl of stew. She wasn’t going to explain why she wanted all of her senses highly alert tonight and not befuddled, when it wasn’t something a boy would say.
She found the meat tender and the gravy tasty, and yet Charley, half-done with his meal, complained loudly in Monty’s direction, “This is horrible food.”
“George spoiled you, did he, with his lavish meals?” Monty rejoined.
“Who’s George?” she snuck in. If he meant the Prince Regent, she wished he would just say so.
Monty merely replied, “A friend.”
But Charley wasn’t done complaining. “I hope you will do better tomorrow, Monty.”
Vanessa saw other people in the dining room looking over at their table.
“Keep your voice down. The stew is hearty fare, does the bloody job of filling the stomach—and beggars can’t be—”
The gasp from Charley and the appalled expression on his face made Monty pause before he amended, albeit a little harshly, “We don’t get to be picky on the road, boy. Our hosts will no doubt offer finer fare at their table, but we aren’t there yet. So in the meantime, we suffer in silence and make do.”
“I—”
“Have said enough,” Monty cut in.
The boy still finished his thought in high indignation. “—should have brought my own chef.”
Vanessa had to choke back her laughter. Charley really was a spoiled child—a rich, spoiled child. And Monty didn’t appear to have any patience for his tantrums, even mild ones, or perhaps he didn’t like what Charley’s haughty manner and disdainful remarks had revealed to everyone in the dining room—that he was wealthy. It was a good thing the boy had taken off his jewelry. Thieves would come pouring out of every nook and cranny, not realizing they were fake gems.
Who the devil were these two? She wished she knew. Nobles, obviously, and high up the proverbial ladder if they knew the Prince Regent. And while she had thought they might be on a secret mission for the Prince, she was beginning to suspect they might be in danger instead. Why else were they traveling so modestly and concealing their identities?
They made quick work of finishing the meal, and soon the group of four was heading upstairs for the night. Vanessa began to feel a little nervous about sleeping in a room with Monty—or was it anticipation? But she could do this. They were only going to sleep, after all.
