She'd miss books for a start. Living here might mean some wonderful clothes to wear but it would also mean no hospitals, no dentists, no transport faster than a horse and cart. Not even shampoo or soap. Wolves running free, marauding outlaws with swords.
"We rest here for the night," Lennox said as the inn loomed in front of them.
He pushed open the door and motioned for Rose to join him in the glowing interior. She walked inside and found herself immediately lost in a world of wood smoke and strong smelling ale.
There were about a dozen tables, most of them occupied by rough looking men, some in tartan, others in clothes that looked little better than rags. All of the patrons were armed. She was the only woman.
In the middle of the room, a fire was burning in an open hearth. The smoke filled the room and then drifted up through the thatch. A black dog was curled up asleep on the rug in front of the spitting logs, paws twitching.
"Lennox MacGregor?" a booming voice said, the voice loud enough to silence the entire inn. "You owe me two boars."
"Rodrick," Lennox said, striding over to the rotund figure who’d emerged from a side door. Good to see you looking as round as last time I was here. Still angry with me?"
"I told you never to come back here if you didn’t pay your debt."
"How about one more game? Double or quits?"
"You have four boars and ten silver pieces with you?"
"I can get them."
The landlord didn’t smile but he did slap Lennox heartily on the shoulder. "Then we play."
A cheer went up as a table was cleared. The landlord sat on one side, Lennox on the other. Three bone thimbles were produced and placed on the table. Lennox nodded to the landlord who showed him a single black peppercorn held between finger and thumb.
"What's happening?" Rose asked.
"Have you never played thimble rig?" Aodh replied, looking across at her.
The landlord slid the peppercorn under the thimble nearest him before sitting back. "Satisfied?" he asked.
Lennox nodded again.
The landlord began sliding the thimbles across the table twisting and turning them around each other for several seconds.
"It looks like the old cup and ball con," Rose said as the thimbles were lined up in a neat row.
"This is no con," the landlord said, overhearing her. "This is a game of skill between gambling men."
"It is a con. The peppercorn's still in your hand. I saw you palm it."
"No, it's not," the landlord said, his cheeks coloring as he glared at her.
"Sit back from the table then and let me lift the three thimbles."
"This is nothing to do with you, lass."
"I knew it. You’re cheating. When he’s picked one, you’ll put the peppercorn under one of the other thimbles."
A gasp went up from the patrons. The landlord got to his feet. "I'll not be called a cheat by anyone, especially not a woman. Will you not silence your wench, Lennox?"
The Highlander looked up at Rose. "Explain yourself."
"You played this last time you were here?"
"Aye."
"And you lost?"
