She shook her head.
With his right hand, he adjusted his hat, and retrieved a silver-handled walking stick from against the wall, then offered his left arm to her. “Come, let me escort you to your family.”
She shrank back. “No.”
A look of concern worried his face. “Do not be afraid.”
She didn’t know him and although this gentleman looked benign and kindly, still she hesitated.
His frown returned, this time confused. “Are you alone?”
She nodded. “I’m waiting for the Bath-bound coach. I believe it stops here?”
His brows darted upwards. His answer came slowly. “It does. Allow me to escort you to the coffee room where you may wait. Please take my arm.” He offered it again.
Amelia hesitated. Surely, he could be trusted? He had already helped her. She placed her shaking hand on his arm and allowed him to lead her through the front door of the inn. As they walked, he leant a little on his walking stick.
He opened the coffee room door. The room was a low-ceiled room with dark stained beams. Half a dozen tables filled the space. A few travellers waited with hand luggage beside their chairs. A stout middle-aged woman picked up her portmanteau and hurried past them.
“Would you join me for a cup of coffee while we wait for your coach, Miss …?”
Probably she ought not, but how could she refuse when he had rescued her from that drunk? And his clothes were those of a gentleman. Certainly, there could be no harm in joining him in such a public place. “Thank you, yes.”
After placing their order with the landlord, the stranger joined her at a small table before a bow window, laying his cane and hat on the chair beside him. “Where have you come from this afternoon? I find it hard to credit that your family would leave you here alone.”
It couldn’t hurt to tell him? “I’ve come from Wellworth Park.”
He observed her with undisguised curiosity.
“Do you know the place?” she asked.
A smile appeared but died quickly, leaving a gleam in his eyes.
“I do, quite well. Are you a relative of the butler or the housekeeper there?”
She shook her head. “No.”
“Of the steward, perhaps?” He raised a dark brow.
“Not at all.” This was becoming amusing. She wondered who else she might be attributed to.
“You’re certainly not a servant.”
That would be obvious from her clothes. “Indeed no.”
“Then you’re one of the guests.” A maid arrived with their coffee, distracting his fixed gaze. When she left, her rescuer said, “Was the cooking at Wellworth Park inadequate?” He chuckled as though that was an outrageous idea.
Amelia took a sip from her cup and savoured its warming, comforting blend. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve eaten nothing there.”
“Was the butler rude? The housekeeper offhand? The servants insolent?”
She laughed at the thought. “Of course they were not!”
He sat forward, a frown of bemusement on his face. “But you still wish to leave?”
“I do.”
Fixing her with his level gaze, he relaxed back into his chair, a look of languid curiosity on his face. “May I enquire why?”
