“Bram, we mustn’t stop—”
“I didn’t think they would abandon me there. I never thought—” He shook his head, mouth hardening.
Leena tried to follow his words. She knew Lord Avon and Lord Hargreaves had abandoned Bram, and dreaded to learn what had happened to him after they had left him. She knew that revelation would be a gnawing, unreckonable truth that would sear her soul.
“I still remember…the first timehefed on me…it felt like a loss. I cannot fling it away.” Bram’s next words were ignited in fury. “But it will all be mine once more. Everything that has been taken from me will be mine once more.”
His attention had slipped from her, fastening on a point behind her shoulder. Leena looked, too, and gasped when she saw the flickering lights in the distance.
She took his hand once more, a sudden urgency in her pace. “Come, Bram. We are very close.”
They stumbled forward again, but the nearer they approached, the more Leena began to hear shouts resounding from within the town. Angry, disturbed shouts. Smoke coiled like a warning in the skies, and Leena suddenly recalled the rabid faces of the miners when their carriage had driven through the village.
Arthur’s warning shrilled in her ears:This entire country is dynamite, waiting for the first spark.
The spark has happened,Leena thought.And everything is burning.
In Golborne, they would’ve been able to disappear without a trace. But in a small town, there was nowhere to hide.
She reeled back suddenly, no longer thinking that it was safe to find refuge in the housekeeper’s cottage where she had initially planned to take Bram.
Leena’s thoughts darted wildly, and she remembered the posting inn they had stayed in on the night she’d met Lady Hargreaves.
She changed direction abruptly, to circle Lytham and go back in the direction of Weavingshaw and the forest, to the edge of the town where the inn was located.
Leena and Bramstood on the threshold of the inn directly under the glare of the bright lights, the stone steps slippery beneath their boots, icicles collecting on the eaves. Bram’s arms encircled her tightly, his face deathly pale. He was lucid again; Leena thanked all the Saints to ever exist.
“We made it,” Leena whispered, but really what she was saying was:Is this the right choice?“Come, let’s go inside.”
The sudden rush of warm air from within the inn was painful on her raw skin.
Waiting at the front desk was the ghost of a customer who was trying to hail her attention without success. Leena ignored him, ringing the silver bell instead.
The innkeeper’s wife who had been present previously dashed out from the back door of the kitchen to answer. The robust woman took one look at their disheveled appearance and called for her husband. He came bustling out of the kitchen behind her, bringing forth smells of hearty stews that set Leena’s stomach growling.
Leena remembered that he had not been present the last timethey were here. The innkeeper was a large man, so tall that he ducked his head under the doorframe to pass; the sound of his steps echoed like thunderclaps.
He smiled widely, his beefy hands spread in welcome, but his eyes were shrewd. “How can I be of service?”
“We need a room—”
“My apologies, madam, but we are full tonight.”
Leena stared at him. It had never occurred to her that they could come all this way and still be flung back into the cold. “Please, sir, we were set upon by highwaymen—”
“We’re a respectable establishment.” He cut her off, an obvious glance at her bare ring finger.
Leena understood.
“My husbandand I have had everything stolen from us—even my wedding ring—and they’ve wounded him terribly.” She hoped that the innkeeper’s wife didn’t recognize them in their current state, so different from their first visit. “Our destination is Weavingshaw. We are guests of Mr. Martin and Lord Hargreaves.”
She knew that it was a gamble using the names of these powerful gentlemen—especially when they were being huntedbythose very men—but the innkeeper’s hostility seemed to diminish slightly at the mention of her grand connections.
She tried not to sound desperate as she continued, “Of course, once we reach Weavingshaw, we will be speaking to the Magistrate to seek justice for our stolen belongings and my husband’s attack.” Leena was glad of the fact that Bram’s coat was made of richly tailored material, effectively hiding the extent of his wound.
“My love,” Bram interrupted, with such overdrawn affection that Leena tried not to show amusement in spite of their dire circumstances. “I always hide an emergency fund on my person.” With some difficulty, he withdrew from his coat another drawstring bag bulging with coins. The innkeeper’s gaze fastened on the pouch, devouring its contents. “I would like the best room with the warmest fire. And make haste; my wife’s shivering.”
The innkeeper bowed. “Certainly,sir. I see that I am mistaken; it seems we do have a vacancy after all.”
