But Lady Evie was not an objective one could simply withdraw from and re-engage at leisure, could one?
Zum Donnerwetter, what was he to do?
To emphasise his conundrum, the universe sent a deafening clap of thunder that rattled the foundations of the house. It briefly occurred to him that if the house still had a roof the next morning, it would be a miracle.
His aide-de-camp lingered at the doorway, raising a lamp and surveying the room, as if to check whether everything was in good order.
Georg lifted a finger and beckoned him.
“Terrible weather.” Schneider shuddered. “The storm is worsening by the hour. It appears part of the roof has lifted from the stables. Happily, there are enough men about to help fix it, but it won’t improve matters here.”
“No, it won’t,” Georg agreed. “We’ll leave first thing tomorrow morning, regardless of the weather. Wolfsthal isn’t too far from here, after all.”
Schneider’s eyes flew to his face. “You intend to abandon the women?”
“Nonsense,” he growled. “We’ll have to take them along.”
“But Lady Evangeline is dreadfully ill, sir. I am certain a trip like that, though short, might worsen her condition. The doctor will object most vehemently to having her moved.”
“It’s not ideal,” Georg agreed. “But it would be worse for her to stay here. In fact, it would be irresponsible to leave her in this overcrowded inn. The innkeeper is not happy about having a case of measles upstairs. He might throw her out regardless of her being the duke’s sister, and one could hardly blame him, given the number of people here who could get infected. If we carry her to the carriage on a stretcher, she will experience an hour or so of discomfort, but then it will be over and she may recuperate at myhunting lodge for the remainder of her illness with better medical care.”
Schneider nodded. “I will see where I can obtain a stretcher.” He hesitated before adding, “And Miss Honeywell?”
Georg pulled a grimace. “I suppose she’ll have to come along as well.”
Schneider’s face brightened. “Most excellent. I stand in awe and admiration of her, sir.”
“So you have, ever since she exited that carriage like the queen of the ball,” Georg said dryly.
“Not because of that, sir, but because of how heroically she has given up her room,” Schneider reported.
His brow furrowed. “What do you mean? She has acquired the innkeeper’s personal bedroom by a wily little manoeuvre that is almost worthy of respect.”
“Indeed, sir. Yet she is not occupying the room. She has given it to a mother with three children.”
Georg sat up. “And Miss Honeywell? Where is she sleeping?”
“In the laundry room, sir.” He paused. “This is where I am sleeping, as well.”
“What?” Georg barked.
“Outside, of course, sir, outside.” Schneider lifted both his hands. “To keep guard.”
“For heaven’s sake. Why?”
“Because I caught not one, but two fellows attempting to barge in, mistaking the laundry room for the latrine.”
Georg followed him outside the common room. At the end of the narrow corridor was an unassuming door that no doubt led to the laundry room.
“She is sleeping in there?”
It looked like it was no bigger than a storage cupboard.
“Yes, sir. On the floor, together with Mitzi.”
“Who the devil is Mitzi?”
“The inn’s laundry maid, sir.”
