“Best not to ask questions. Just sit close to me on this side and we will try to make the best of things.”
They pressed together on the rear-facing bench, and Robert forced himself to not try and find the source of the odor—though logic told him it had something to do with the stain across from them.
After an uncomfortable ride, the driver stopped and let them out, saluting them in farewell as he turned his cab around.
“Shall we find another coach?” Louisa asked, glancing about.
“Yes. But I don’t see any coaches at the moment.”
“Neither do I.”
Robert heard Louisa’s stomach grumble again and noticed a pallor seeping into her face. He slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Let us get a bit to eat. No sense in standing here waiting for a coach while you starve to death.” He was surprised when she did not protest, but instead allowed him to steer her toward a dimly lit pub. Her bare arm felt cool under his hand. “You are cold,” he said, more a statement than a question. His fingers gently slid over her skin.
“I am fine,” she said with a slight chatter, defying her words.
“Here.” He held the door of a pub open for her. “Let us rest before we continue our journey home.”
She laughed, and he followed her inside. “Yes. Quite a journey it has been.”
They made their way to a secluded booth in the back of the room, sliding onto the same wooden bench. Louisa allowed her head to gently rest against his shoulder and he dared not move, not wanting to do anything that might make her pull away.
“And what sounds good to you?”
“Food,” she grumbled into his shoulder.
A middle-aged woman walked over to their table. “What can I do for the two of you?”
Louisa didn’t move to say anything.
“May we have two bowls of stew and some bread? And a mug of ale.”
The woman nodded. “Comin’ right out.”
“I don’t know why I am so tired,” Louisa said, quietly.
Robert turned his head, kissing her hair gently enough that he hoped she wouldn’t flinch away. “I believe you need food. Which we shall have shortly.”
“You were correct. I am cold.”
Robert lifted her head from his shoulder, sitting her up as he slipped out of his jacket. “Here.” He placed it across her shoulders, and she nestled into it with a sigh of bliss. “I know you do not enjoy its smell, but it should keep you warm.”
She closed her eyes, leaning her head against the wall behind them. “It actually smells like you.”
He let loose his pleased smile, knowing she could not see him. They sat in silence until the same woman came back with their bowls of stew, a plate of rolls, and his ale.
He nodded his thanks and Louisa sat up, daintily taking her first sip of the warm stew. She groaned. “I’m not sure I’ve had a more delicious stew in my entire life.”
He chuckled. “Perhaps because you are ravenous.”
“Perhaps. But it still seems delicious on its own merit.”
Robert took a spoonful of his own bowl. “It isn’t bad,” he said with a nod of approval, dipping his spoon back into the bowl for another bite. “And how is the bread?”
Louisa was sinking her teeth into the roll as he asked. “It’s heaven,” she said with a mouthful.
“Excuse me, but manners dictate you not speak with food in your mouth.” He gently elbowed her as he grinned.
“No one here knows us,” she said, reaching for another roll. “And I am quite hungry.”
