What if something happened to her? They were in a coaching inn. He had been able to determine that based on the number of carriages and coaches he heard arriving and leaving and the voices that came up from the courtyard below. Any manner of disreputable man could see, then admire her, and…well, anything could happen, and he wasn’t there to protect her.
At least when her servants were here there was security as they fetched food and whatnot. Now she was vulnerable.
A moment later the door flew open, and Bethany entered carrying a laden tray then kicked the door closed behind her.
“A constable is here asking to speak to you.”
Leopold sat forward. “Why?”
She quickly explained the conversation. “What do we do?”
“Bring him up. I want those men caught and punished.”
“Yes, but…”
He knew what her true fear was—if anyone learned that they’d shared a chamber these past days, especially without him having any clothing…
Well, she would just need to become used to the idea of being his duchess. Deep down she must know that was the outcome they both faced. Even in a small hamlet such as this, someone was bound to learn.
“Bethany,” Leopold began calmly. “All will be well.”
“Yes. Of course.” She set the tray on a table. “Would you like to eat first?”
“No. I want this matter resolved and hopefully my belongings returned.”
“Yes. Of course,” she repeated then came forward and pulled the blankets up to his chin. “You really should learn some modesty, Your Grace.”
He chuckled. “You have not complained previously.”
Her face took on a lovely, rosy hue. “We have not had guests before now.”
With that, she turned on her heel and marched from the room and returned a few moments later with Constable Merryweather, and Leopold nearly groaned.
“Your Grace,” Merryweather greeted with a big smile as he entered the chamber.
Bethany glanced quickly between the two.
“Merryweather, how did you become a constable?” Leopold then looked to Bethany. “We attended school together. Merryweather is Lord Clark Merryweather, second son of the Marquess of Godolphin.”
“Boredom, I suppose. My father wouldn’t allow me to join the Bow Street Runners and you know my fascination has always been crime, punishment, and the law.” He turned to Bethany. “Father believed the law beneath me, and I have no more temperament for being a vicar than Claybrook.”
“What happened?” He directed the question to Leopold.
He did his best to describe the events, including everything that had been taken from him, but did not answer how he had been found or Bethany’s involvement. “There are still moments that are not clear.”
“You have no clothing?” the constable asked and slid a glance to Bethany, whose face was now as red as an autumn apple ready to fall from the tree.
“There were none to be found in this hamlet. A footman has been sent to my home in London.”
“There is a village not too far away. I will have them send something over when I pass through.”
As he was not certain where he was, and that he had a headache more times than not, Leopold hadn’t even considered the possibility of a closer village. Nor had Bethany.
He frowned. She was probably too exhausted to think straight, having slept on the settee, which could not be the least bit comfortable.
“Thank you,” Bethany offered. “It would be very much appreciated.”
“Yes, and then I might move about freely,” Leopold added.
