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FIFTEEN
Boots and Crow Hostelry
A dismal stretch of road between Westerham and London
Quarterpast ten in the evening
Huddled beside Roxina on a hard,gouged, and scratched wooden bench beneath a grimy, cobweb-strewn window, Aubriella covertly surveyed the Boots and Crow common room. This far from the insipid fire struggling to cast its meager light and heat beyond the soot-entrenched hearth, the cold seeped into her bones from the flimsy wall behind her.
The other mail coach patrons also clustered as near to the insufficient flames as possible, which was to say, several feet away. Other conveyances, two in the last hour, had sought refuge in the small, rundown inn, and those passengers—some quite unsavory—had settled in for the night. By the time the mail coach limped into the slushy courtyard two hours ago, other guests had claimed the hostelry’s private chambers.
A broken wheel and lame horse sent the coach drivers to the only nearby lodgings. Once they learned nobody could repair the wheel until tomorrow and neither was there a replacement for the lame horse, they’d comforted themselves with tall mugs of dark ale.
Roxina slipped her hand into Aubriella’s and gave a soft squeeze. Leaning close, she whispered, “I don’t like the way those men are looking at us.”
Aubriella didn’t need to ask which men.
An unkempt, bearded pair repeatedly turned their drunken attention toward the women. God only knew how long they had lingered at the corner table, downing bottle after bottle of spirits. Boisterous, crude, and inebriated, they harassed the overworked barmaid, mocked the more refined gentlemen, and unabashedly ogled the women.
Their ribald jokes and coarse language brought blushes to more than one woman’s cheeks and earned glowers from the men, although no one dared to tell the ruffians to mind their manners or shut their mouths.
Aubriella and Roxina could either take refuge in the crowded and smoky common room, reeking of garlic, boiled cabbage, unwashed bodies, stale ale, and a sweet, foul unidentifiable odor or stay in the coach overnight. At least inside the shambles of a building, she and Roxina were at less risk of freezing to death.
Ravishment, on the other hand?
That might’ve been a real possibility if there weren’t so many other patrons sprawled about the taproom. In truth, Aubriella wasn’t certain she and Roxina were safe. Those foul brutes ogling her didn’t seem the type to bother with laws. One wretch, sporting a jagged scar from his eye to where it disappeared into his grungy beard, winked at her and smiled, exposing rotten teeth.
Aubriella averted her gaze, and he guffawed.
Swallowing her fright, she took stock of their situation.
They only needed to get through the night, and they’d be on their way first thing in the morning. Westerham was a mere twenty miles from London. Surely, they’d traveled half that distance today. As long as the roads were passable and no other mishaps befell them, she and Roxina should make London tomorrow midmorning.
She flattened her hand over her churning belly. Her reticule formed a lump where she’d pinned it to her chemise before boarding the coach. Thank God she’d had the foresight to do so. Her gown and cloak draped over her redingote hid the bulge, but given the unsavory characters dispersed around the shabby establishment, fear still tiptoed up and down her spine.
In hindsight, she oughtn’t to have departed Mabel and George’s in such haste. A day or two more wouldn’t have made that much difference to her newly hatched scheme for independence.
In truth, staying and secluding herself would have given her time to plan her escape and future. Unlike her carefully thought out and enacted scheme to sneak into university, for the first time in her life, she’d succumbed to an imprudent, emotional impulse, and now her impetuosity had also endangered her dearest friend.
Lifting her nose and presenting her profile to the obnoxious duo, who continued to leer at her and Roxina, she bit her lip. This unexpected and unfortunate delay in their journey not only put them in an untenable situation, it might prevent their escape to Aunt Astrid’s.
Mayhap, as Aubriella often vanished for hours at house parties, no one would question her absence tonight or tomorrow.
That still left her to get through the night unaccosted.
She’d refused food and drink because there was no way in Hades that she would reveal she possessed a few coins. She wouldn’t put it past the assembled riffraff to rob her in her sleep. Which was why she had no intention of sleeping, or at the very least, she and Roxina would slumber in shifts.
“I’m sorry, Zina.”
Despite her exhaustion and anxiety, Roxina gave her a sharp look. “Whatever for?”
“For dragging you into my muddle.” Aubriella spread a hand to indicate their surroundings. “For this. For not at least asking the cook for a piece of cheese and bread. An apple or two.”
“Fiddlesticks and flimflam.” Roxina squeezed her hand again. “I have a mind of my own. No one could’ve known the weather would wreak havoc on the roads, that the coach wheel would need repairing, or that one horse would go lame. Though I’m not surprised, considering the poor beast had to pull the laden coach through thick snow.”
Everything she said was true, but that didn’t ease Aubriella’s guilt.
Roxina marshaled a smile and changed the subject. “I bet Jack was fit to be tied when you won the wager.”
