Page 24 of Avenging the Earl's Lady
“Well?”he bellowed.
Ewan’s face paled, making his freckles stand up and shiver.“They passed through the village not long after Fergus.I rode south as far as Fergus’s party.No one has seen them.”
“Or they’re not talking.Take me up then.”He pointed at a rock that would do as a mounting block, then gritted his teeth as his stitches pulled, hauling himself up behind the boy.
“Your mount will need a good rest, and we both need to eat.We’ll leave tomorrow.We know where they’re going.”
“I can change mounts and—”
“No.”
“But, the lady alone…and her maid—”
“No.”
The boy was drawn to the maid, but if ever there was a lass who could protect herself and her lady, that one was it.Not to mention that Lady Jane had depths they’d all overlooked.“They’ll stumble across Fergus MacEwen soon enough, and he’ll wrap them up and cart them along with him to London.”
Late the nextmorning Jane and Jenny queued up for the balding and chubby agent who was taking money and issuing tickets.
When it was their turn, he gave Jane a friendly nod.“And here we are: the lady in the red shawl.”
A woman of a height and age similar to her own turned.“Oh my, it is lovely, and I dare say a perfect weight for the summer.I’ve been admiring it so.How I wish I had something like that for the coach trip to Nottingham.Visiting my daughter and new grandson there, I am.”
Jane smiled as the woman moved away.
Next to her, Jenny glanced around the bustling hall, her gaze more assessing than fearful.They’d spent a comfortable enough night, sharing a bed in a prosperous fisherman’s cottage, thanks to Davy who’d sailed them by skiff to Scarborough and lodged them with kind friends of his.This morning, they’d made their way afoot to this inn in East Sandgate.
The place was busy, and yet, it wasn’t likely that Ewan or any other of Kincaid’s men would find them here.Coaches left from this inn, but it was also a link to the London packet, and as luck would have it, the regular boat was leaving within hours.
“So, madam,” the agent said, “tickets for you and your, er,…”
“Daughter.”Jane pulled out the bank notes.This transportation was very dear indeed, but Shaldon’s men, if they looked for her, would expect her to be traveling by coach.
Jenny eyed the money changing hands, biting her lip.They went to take a seat in the busy tap room.“If I were to take the stagecoach, would he give you back my fare for the packet, my lady?”
Jane shushed her.“You must call me Mother.And I wouldn’t put a maid, much less my own daughter, on a coach to travel alone.”
Jenny’s gaze went to the door and she slipped down in her chair.After a moment, her frown eased and she shook her head.“A tall, red-haired boy.He looked for a moment like Ewan, but it weren’t him.”She bit her lip and frowned.“It might be better to pack away your shawl.”
Her shawl.Of course.
She quickly removed it and folded it onto her lap.
“It’s pretty,” Jenny said, “but it does stand out.”
“Yes, you’re right.”A chill draft blew in through the open door and snaked around her, making her shiver.
“Was it a gift?”Jenny asked.
She nodded.“From my brother.He gave it to me not long before he died.”
Her brother, Lord Amsden, had arrived at the family estate in Kent, gift in hand.The French had recently landed a small invasion in Wales that’d been quickly snuffed out.Alarmed, Father had felt the need to spend time at his coastal property, and he’d sent for his heir to join him.
Amsden was wild, always on the outs with Father.He’d arrived and presented Jane with the shawl, laughing heartily that he’d won it in a card game from a nabob newly returned from India.She didn’t care that he hadn’t purchased it especially for her.She’d loved her brother.
Amsden had also brought along a friend, Reginald Dempsey.
A coach horn blew and she roused herself, fingering the fine wool.The inn room stirred with a bustle of people rising.She spotted the woman bound for Nottingham.
