Page 63 of Married to the Earl

“Will I see you again before you leave, My Lady?” Betsy asked anxiously.

“Only on my way out the door,” Astrid said. “We won’t have time to speak.”

“Then let me say one last thing to you now,” Betsy said.

“What is it?”

“Have you ever been to a pub?”

“No,” Astrid said. “But I’ve read about them in books.”

Betsy nodded. “I’ve never done that, but I’m not sure a book can adequately prepare you for what you’ll be facing. You’ll be surrounded by intoxicated men who see you as nothing more than a wench to bring them more drinks. The lights will be dim, and the conversation will be loud. People will be shouting at you, and they might be touching you.”

Astrid shuddered, but she steeled herself against her fear. “I can handle it,” she said.

“I just want you to know what you’re facing,” Betsy said. “Make sure you don’t go anywhere alone with anyone. You might want to avoid talking to the men at the pub. And you don’t want to stand out in any way or be memorable to them at all.”

Astrid nodded. “Thank you,” she said. “This helps.”

“I’ll have a hot meal ready for you tonight when you get back, and a basin of water so that you can clean yourself up,” Betsy said.

“Don’t get yourself in trouble,” Astrid cautioned. “Don’t you do anything that will call attention to you either.”

“I won’t.”

“All right. Then I think we’re going to be able to manage this,” Astrid said. “I’ll see you on my way out in a few hours.”

Betsy left the room, and Astrid sat on her bed, fingering the ends of her newly cropped hair and marveling at how quickly this plan had come together.

She just hoped it would help clear her husband’s name.

Chapter 25

Nobody knows you, Astrid reminded herself as she made her way down the street at dusk.Nobody knows who you are. You’ve spent your entire life in your father’s house, away from others’ eyes. Your wedding was very small. People may know you by reputation as the commoner who married the Earl, but nobody knows you by sight.

God, she hoped that was true.

If she walked into the Angry Boar and was recognized, this was all going to be over in a hurry.

Astrid liked her chances, though. In addition to being cut short, her hair was now tucked up under a bonnet. She knew that her long, smooth curls had once been her most distinguishing feature. She suspected that her own father might walk right by her without recognizing her now.

She hoped.

The Angry Boar was easier to find than she had anticipated. The patrons were raucous and rowdy, as Betsy had warned her that they would be. They spilled out of the building and onto the road, laughing and staggering.Awfully early in the evening to be so drunk, she thought, but she said nothing.

The inside of the pub was even louder, and smoke permeated the air. Uncomfortable and nervous, Astrid hesitated in the doorway.Maybe this was a bad idea.

Maybe it was. But if it had even a chance of helping Conor then she knew she had to try.

She stepped over the threshold and approached the bar. The man who stood behind it looked as though his face had been carved out of granite. He looked up at her and did a double take, and Astrid realized she probably wasn’t the sort of person who usually came into this pub.

“Help you?” he growled.

Astrid took a steadying breath. “I’m looking for a job,” she said.

The man raised his eyebrows. “Youwant to workhere?”

“Yes, sir,” Astrid said, nerves vibrating. What had he meant byyou? Had he guessed who she was?

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