Page 9 of The Lady in Pearls
Lachlan slapped down several fat coins on the counter “Then we’ll take the loft, but I’m not paying full price.” The innkeeper collected them and slipped them into his apron pocket.
He led them to a muddy courtyard, where icy rain pelted their skin before they reached the protection of the stables. Over a dozen horses were tucked away in stalls. The warm scents of hay and grain were oddly comforting to Daphne as she kept pace with Lachlan.
“Use this ladder,” the innkeeper said, “and be careful not to roll off the ledge in the night.” The innkeeper retrieved several thick woolen blankets and offered them to Lachlan, who took them under one arm.
Lachlan turned to Daphne. “You go first. I’ll be here to catch you if you slip.” He gave her a gentle nudge. She approached the wooden ladder, a tad apprehensive. Heights were not something she enjoyed.
“Go on, lass,” Lachlan growled and gave her bottom a gentle swat.
“How dare you!” She was torn between mortification and anger, both emotions almost choking her. The innkeeper laughed at her sputter of outrage.
“Climb, or I’ll do it again,” Lachlan warned with a twinkle in his eyes that she didn’t like. The swat hadn’t hurt, of course, not with the layers she wore, but to strike a lady in such an intimate place, especially when they weren’t alone…
Daphne clenched her teeth, used one hand to lift her skirts and the other to climb. She had to go slow. When she reached the top, she toppled over into a mountain of fresh hay. There was space for both her and Lachlan to sleep, but not much more than that. She stilled as she realized that she and Lachlan would be sleeping mere inches apart.
Nerves stormed the inside of her belly and she fought off a little shiver.We’re not married yet.
Lachlan emerged over the edge of the loft and tossed the blankets to her. She caught them and waited until he knelt beside her amid the mountains of hay.
“Make yourself a nest and get some rest. I’ll find some dinner.” He tucked the blankets more fully into her lap before he shifted back toward the loft’s edge. She set the bedding aside and stepped toward him.
“Lachlan—”
He paused, already halfway off the ledge. “Aye?”
Suddenly tongue-tied, Daphne blushed. She wasn’t sure what she’d meant to say, only that she’d wanted to say something.
“Be careful not to fall.”
He answered her warning with an inscrutable expression before dropping from view.
Once he left, she arranged the hay to lay more evenly, then spread one blanket as a bottom sheet and the second as a cover. It would have to do.
She almost laughed. Of course, it would do. It would do very well. This bed was a far better accommodation than she’d had these last two months. There was nothing so dreadful as curling up in the nook of a doorway or huddling beneath bushes in Hyde Park. Those were the places she’d grown accustomed to sleeping. Here she had a roof over her head and warm blankets. By comparison, it would be easy to endure, even if they went hungry tonight. Given the crowds due to the storm, it was possible the inn might run out of food, as well.
She settled back in the hay, curled into a ball and closed her eyes. She listened to the pattering rain on the stable roof and the rustle and occasion snort of the horses below. There was a gentle cadence to it all that exuded a sense of peace. Since her father’s incarceration, she’d carried the weight of his sins squarely upon her shoulders. Yet now, at this moment, that burden was lessened. Daphne inhaled slowly and let her thoughts turn to the future, to Lachlan.
He was a Scottish earl, with a vast estate in Scotland, yet he’d agreed to marry an English woman who Sir James had made clear was in need of financial support. What sort of man agreed to that? Was he desperate for a wife?
The ladder to the loft creaked and Daphne squeaked in surprise, clutching the blanket to her chest, even though she remained fully dressed.
“I dinnae mean to scare you,” Lachlan chuckled as he appeared at the loft edge. He reached up and set down a tray containing covered dishes.
She stared at the fully laden tray in awe. “How did you carry that?”
“It wasn’t hard, a wee bit of balance was all.” He joined her in the makeshift bed and they shared the food in a quaint silence. Lachlan was clearly not a talkative man, which Daphne did regret. She had loved to talk to her father and her friends…before everything had gone wrong.
“Have more travelers arrived?” she asked.
“Aye. There will be no beds, and likely the stables will fill up, as well. We’ll have to stay in the loft unless that distresses your delicate feminine sensibilities.” The sudden coldness in his tone surprised her.
“Oh, no, here’s quite fine,” she rushed to assure him. Perhaps his pride had been pricked by having to sleep above animals in a stable.
“I know you are used to finer things, but let me warn you, sweet bride,” his tone was still cold and she shivered. “There will be no fine clothes or expensive things in Huntley. It is not my way and it won’t be yours.”
Daphne didn’t miss the way he said this. Each word seemed to have a dreadful importance to it, but she couldn’t see why. She was not foolish enough to ask for an explanation.
“I’m quite accustomed to going without,” she murmured.
