Silas shrugged. “Perhaps. But I find at my age I value comfort above all else. Besides, I am an earl, I will be recognised wherever I go.”
Honora smiled cheekily, tucking her hand into the crook of his arm. “La,I suppose you are on the very brink of doddering at the advanced age of thirty-one.”
Silas scowled. “Watch out, or I’ll take a paddle to your bottom, young lady.”
Honora bit back her smile, as well as the cheeky retort that danced on the tip of her tongue. She so missed this side of Silas. They had teased each other mercilessly in the years before her come out.
They entered the lobby of the coaching inn, Silas taking command of procuring their rooms. Honora heard him ask for two adjoining chambers, one for himself and one for his sister. She noticed he used his family name, Sinclair, instead of his title.
It seemed he was at least making some effort to be discreet.
Honora couldn’t escape the nagging sense of anxiety, though. It had not abated since the day of the carriage accident. Although it was unlikely they would be discovered so soon by those who meant them harm, there was always a chance. The past few days had taught her that nowhere was safe if someone truly meant to hurt her.
There was also the worry that there was someone in her household who could not be trusted, and it was absolutely possible that danger might be on their heels right this moment, no matter the subterfuge of their morning departure.
A maid escorted them to their rooms at the back of the inn, while Fobs followed behind with their luggage, grumbling away.
Silas walked ahead of her into her room, examining the small space and pulling back the curtain to peer down at the courtyard, his eyes scanning the area for anything that seemed out of place.
There was a simple bed, a table and chairs, and a dressing screen near the washstand. Honora checked the linens discreetly, grateful to find they were relatively fresh.
“It’s not exactly lavish, but you should be moderately comfortable,” Silas muttered, moving towards the door. “If we leave early, we should arrive at Althorpe Hall by tomorrow afternoon.”
He watched Fobs as the man stowed her valise behind the screen.
“I will join you for dinner. I have asked to be served here in your room. Lock the door behind me.”
With that, he was gone. Leaving Honora to her own devices.
She shrugged out of her spencer, hanging it over the screen, then moved to the washbasin, sighing with pleasure as she splashed her face and hands, washing away the dust of the road.
After a moment, Silas returned with the maid, carrying their meal.
It was a simple, but hearty mutton stew, although Honora found she could not eat much.
The thought of sleeping alone in this strange room, with the raucous sounds of the taproom below, made her uncomfortably anxious.
When they were done with their meal, Silas left to confer with Jobs on some matter or another, leaving Honora again alone with her thoughts.
It was unusually warm, even for summer, and she congratulated herself on her choice of travelling gown as she quickly undid the front clasps, unhooking her short stays and stripping down to her chemise so she could wash more thoroughly.
Perhaps she was slightly spoiled by the convenience of her maid, but more than anything she missed the companionship of having someone there with her at the end of the evening.
Rummaging through the valise, Honora found her white cotton nightrobe and slipped it on, taking her candle with her to the bed. She needed to rebandage her arm, but she couldn’t do it herself.
She sat down on the coverlet, at a bit of a loss.
A knock sounded at the door and she sighed with relief, calling for Silas to enter.
He stepped inside, averting his gaze politely when he saw her state of undress.
“Apologies. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable before I retire for the night.”
“Please don’t go,” stammered Honora, drawing her legs up onto the bed.
Silas scowled, moving closer. “Is something amiss?”
“I need some help,” she said, waving her hand at the rolled-up bandage and small pot of salve she had placed next to the bed.
