Wells had loaded another ball into his pistol, while keeping watch out the window. Suddenly, he levelled the piece and let fly another missile at the robbers, then followed it up with a shot from his second pistol.
Amelia clutched her hands to her ears, but focused on his every move. A few moments later, she asked, “Are they still with us?”
He shook his head. “I think we’ve seen them off. A lucky escape.”
“Not lucky at all! If you hadn’t hit one of them, we would have been bailed up!”
For the next half hour, Amelia watched her companion peer out the window into the darkness, trying to discern any further threats on the road. At last, the lights of a town drew nearer, and in a few more minutes they wheeled into the yard of a coaching inn called The George. Mr Wells pocketed his pistols. The passengers rushed from the other door, and from above, into the inn.
Mr Wells withdrew his leather valise from beneath his feet and his walking stick from across the doorway, opened the door, and stiffly exited the coach. He turned and handed Amelia out of the vehicle.
Amelia thanked him, but waited while he walked over to the driver, who was squatting beside a rear wheel holding a lamp high to shed light on its timbers. They talked quietly for a few minutes before Mr Wells turned from the driver. The lamplight revealed his grim expression.
Mr Wells joined her and offered his arm. He leaned heavily on his cane as he walked her inside the inn.Herbody ached all over from the lurching of the carriage and the prolonged sitting in one position. She yearned for a cup of tea, warm water for a wash, and a good night’s sleep. “Is everything alright with the coach?”
“Bad news. A spoke is splintered from a gunshot. It will have to be repaired before we can continue.”
“Then we will have to stay at the inn tonight?” She cringed at the thought of asking for a room. She had heard that innkeepers didn’t look kindly on women travelling alone and treated them as though they were common street walkers. Surely no-one would mistake her for anything but a respectable lady? She turned to her self-appointed companion. “Have you stayed here before? Is it a comfortable inn?”
“As comfortable as can be expected. The innkeeper and his wife run a clean establishment, but there’s always some noise from the comings and goings of the stages.”
She nodded. He hadn’t really allayed her fears. She leaned closer and whispered, “Is the innkeeper going to allow me to stay although I’m travelling alone?”
“Would you like me to organise a room for you?”
She started back and, not wishing to appear lily-livered, answered, “No, I can do that myself, thank you.”
He gave a slow nod. “Let me know if you need my assistance any further.” He tipped his hat to her and entered the coffee room, leaving her at the front desk.
As she feared, the inn-keeper took a dim view of an unchaperoned woman requesting accommodation, no matter that she wore expensive clothes and had the tariff. He would not give her a bed when there were so many respectable customers who had arrived at the same time. “If there is a room left over, you may have it. Otherwise, you may sleep in the taproom,” he said.
Her cheeks flushed with humiliation and she stepped back from the counter to think what to do next.
At that moment, Mr Wells fronted the innkeeper and said, “Your best room for the night, if you will, Mr Brown.”
The inn-keeper smiled in recognition and handed him a key without any hesitation. “Mary will show you to your room, sir.”
Amelia’s rescuer turned to her and handed her the key. “Miss Fortescue, follow Mary to your room.”
Mr Wells had overheard her conversation! “But you can’t give up your chamber to me!”
“I can, and I have. I’m sure there is somewhere else for me in this inn, isn’t there, Mr Brown?”
“If … if I had known she was of your party, sir, I would have given her the room myself. Most irregular that she should be asking for a room herself.”
“An easy mistake to make. Young women are becoming so independent these days.” He flashed the man a knowing smile. “Now, do you have another room for me?”
The innkeeper sniffed as though he didn’t agree with the ways in which the world was changing. “Only a small room overlooking the yard, sir. There’ll be some noise with the coaches coming through.”
“No matter. I’m a sound sleeper. Give me the key and see that Miss Fortescue has hot water and a meal brought to her chamber. I’ll pay the whole.”
The man looked at him in open speculation.
“She’s a relative of mine, called suddenly to her great-aunt in Bath. You can imagine the uproar that caused. As her father was absent, she’s stuck with me to escort her.” He ended further questioning with a curt dip of his chin.
The innkeeper smiled as though it all suddenly made complete sense.
***
