Page 5

She glanced at the captain. “Adam needs me.”

“I’ll see the ladies out,” he said. He turned away before she could thank him.

* * * *

Harry strode toward the three ladies standing with white, openly shocked faces on the landing. He’d seen them before, the twin sisters who dressed in matching gowns and their friend with the round face and brown curls peeping out from under a matronly lace cap, at the wedding of his friend Viscount Hazelwood. Lucy Holbrook had lofty friends for an innkeeper’s daughter.

“Ladies, Captain Harry Clare at your service. May I escort you to your carriage?”

One of the twins, her hands clasping a little book to her breast, nodded earnestly, but the other drew herself up and demanded in a low voice intended for Harry alone, but quite audible in the silence, “Why isn’t that man locked up?”

“I believe, ma’am,” said Harry, glancing at Lucy leaning against Adam’s shoulder, “that the old man lives here under the care of Miss Holbrook and her father.”

“Her father is no longer with us. Some other place must be found for that man at once.”

Harry bowed. “Shall I tell Miss Holbrook so by your request, ma’am?”

They could see Lucy’s golden head against Adam’s white one. It was hard to say who received more comfort from the contact.

The lady with the soft curls shook her head and quietly beckoned her friends into the private dining room. Harry followed them in and closed the door.

“Captain Clare,” said the twin with the book, “are you a relation of Mountjoy?”

“His younger brother, ma’am.” Harry could not prevent a tightening of his lips at the admission.

“Ah, we know your aunts.” She seemed pleased to fit Harry into her world.

“Let me call your carriage, ma’am.”

The bolder of the twins spoke up again. “You seem to be a man of sense, Captain. Reason with Miss Holbrook. She must not stay another night in such a place. We are prepared to take her with us this afternoon. Aren’t we, ladies?”

Three faces turned to Harry full of concern and disapproval. They didn’t like the inn, and they looked to be fixed in that opinion.

Harry did not think they would persuade the girl to leave the old man. What he saw in her was a dogged loyalty that no amount of condescension would dislodge. “I believe, ma’am, that Miss Holbrook regards herself as responsible for the old man.”

“Absurd! A young woman, such as she, has no business being in charge of...a man. Can’t one of those idle fellows be hired to mind him?” She gestured toward the common room.

Harry concealed a smile. The bench sitters might look idle, but they considered themselves the backbone of England, the men who did the work of the country. Even Frank Blodget, the inn’s tapman, would regard the role of being Adam’s minder as beneath his dignity. “I doubt it, ma’am.”

“Please, excuse us, Captain,” said the third lady, the woman of the soft brown curls and round face. “We are understandably concerned for our young friend. Is the old man any relation to Mr. Holbrook or his daughter?”

“None that I know of, ma’am.”

“And has he no other recourse?”

“He’s simple-minded, ma’am, and earns his keep doing handwork for the inn.” It was not Harry’s job to defend Adam Pickersgill from a world that had no use for the blind, but it was his job not to lose his witness.

“And does he often flare up in such an unmanageable way?”

“I couldn’t say, ma’am. I’ve seen just the one episode.”

“Thank you, Captain. Will you please summon our carriage?” She turned to the twins. “Let us make a plan.”

“Ma’am.” Harry nodded.

As he left the room, the first lady was saying, “We really cannot help Lucy if she remains here, Margaret.”

He closed the door behind him. If Harry knew tactics at all, the ladies were regrouping for a further attack. They were determined to remove the girl from the inn. His aunts had descended on Mountjoy when his mother died, equally determined perhaps, but when they met his father and his brother, no silken sympathy and no effort to continue his mother’s influence on that house had succeeded. Harry had joined the army within days.