Page 18 of A Lady's Heart Deceived
Maggie dabbed at her mouth with her napkin and sat back in the chair. That had to be the best roast she had enjoyed all year. And the onion gravy was divine.
The only cook she knew whose efforts could possibly match such a delectable feast, worked in the kitchens at Strathmore Castle. And since she only got to visit the Radley family ancestral home at Christmas, the surprisingly excellent supper was an unexpected bonus.
It was also a godsend after the uncomfortable coach trip from London. Thirty-four miles didn’t seem all that far, but when a body was crushed between two large and very muscular blacksmiths, every one of those miles seemed to last an eternity. She was more than glad to hear that both gentlemen were not travelling on to Coventry.
With a hot meal in her belly, Maggie sat and pondered her day. After leaving Denford House, following her frustrating audience with Captain Denford, she had indeed stepped into the middle of the road and hailed a hack. A smirk now sat on her lips as she recalled how proud she had been with herself as the carriage slowed and drew to a halt.
Fortunately, Maggie had encountered a carriage driver who knew his way across town, and she had arrived with time to spare before the Coventry-bound coach was due to depart. And while she had been a tad disappointed when Captain Denford didn’t make an appearance, she had purchased a ticket and climbed onboard. The coach had left without him.
Finding herself unexpectedly travelling alone, Maggie had initially decided to push on and stay with the mail coach as it thundered through the night toward the midland city, but as soon as it pulled into the yard of the Cock Inn, she sensed she had reached the limit of her endurance. She climbed down, unsure as to what she should do next.
As her feet touched the hard ground, Maggie swayed a little. One of the other passengers, an older lady took hold of her arm and helped steady her. “You look exhausted young lady. Perhaps you should stay at the inn tonight. The innkeeper runs a clean and respectable establishment. And they serve a delicious roast here with lashings of gravy. There will be another coach tomorrow to take you the rest of the way.”
Maggie nodded. The idea was most appealing. “Thank you, perhaps I will stay here tonight. I could do with a good night’s sleep,” she replied.
The early start of the morning was fast catching up with her. All she wanted was a warm, comfortable bed. Tomorrow evening, she would climb onboard the next coach as it travelled through the town, working her way farther north each day.
She glanced at her dinner plate, unsure if she had any room left in her stomach to finish the meal. Her fellow passenger had been right, the food was excellent.
Maggie was warm and comfortable, seated in an out-of-the-way corner of the main dining room of the inn. The place was a hub of laughter and chatter, with locals and travelers mixing and sharing tales. On the table next to her half-finished meal was the book she had planned to read on the way up from London. Her fingers idly flicked through the pages. Perhaps later she would attempt to catch up on the story. Sleep, however, beckoned, and she doubted she would make it past more than a paragraph or two.
“What the deuce are you doing here?”
Maggie stirred from her imaginings of soft sheets and warm blankets. Her head lifted, and her gaze settled on a tall, very unhappy-looking Captain Denford. He glanced from her near empty plate and back to her face. “That had better not be the last of the roast beef,” he ground out.
A slow blink, and a sly lick of her lips was her reply.
With a tired huff, he dropped into the seat opposite hers. He looked as exhausted as she felt.
How did he get here? He missed the coach. He couldn’t have come all this way on horseback, could he?
Maggie pushed the oval pewter platter toward him. “I believe that was the last of the beef and onion gravy, but you are more than welcome to share my supper. We fellow travelers should be generous to one another.”
He scowled but picked up the knife and stabbed it into an untouched piece of meat. Maggie pointed at the small smear of what remained of the gravy.
“That was particularly delicious. If you were hoping to get a slice of Yorkshire pudding, you are out of luck. I wasn’t expecting company, so I ate all of it. I am glad I chose to stay here tonight; one of my fellow passengers in the coach recommended the food most highly. Said it was well worth delaying my arrival in Coventry just to sample the menu. And they were right.”
She found the silent glower in his deep brown eyes to be most satisfying.
Maggie leaned in and smiled at him. “So, Captain Denford, what brings you to the Cock Inn this evening?”
He narrowed his eyes. Maggie didn’t flinch. If Piers Denford thought he could intimidate her with his puff and bluster, he was sadly mistaken. She was a Radley, and Radleys never backed down from a fight.
He was going to wring her neck, but not until he had finished the last of her food. Piers and Maggie sat in silence for the next ten minutes. While he stuffed his face, Miss Margaret Radley sat with her nose in a book. Every time he tried to catch her eye, she made a great display of turning the page and ignoring him.
Stubborn woman. Thank heavens she left me some of her supper.
She set the book down and for a moment, he thought she was going to speak to him, but she merely lifted her hand and waved the bar maid over to their table. When the girl arrived, Maggie gave her a cheery smile. “Rose, would you be a dear, and please get the captain a pint of your finest? Put it on my tab. Oh, and make sure you pour one for the old shepherd seated in the booth next to the front door. He looks to be out of coin. Thank you.”
“Very good, Miss Radley,” replied Rose.
Piers waited until the barmaid was out of earshot, then set his knife down. “You think yourself mighty clever, don’t you? I wonder what your father would say if he could see you right now.”
She gave a half-shrug. “Considering you are the one who missed the coach and left me to travel on my own, Papa would likely say that I was making the best of a bad situation. Using my initiative and finding the solution to my problem.”
Piers shook his head. “And what problem would that be?”
A pair of sparkling blue eyes stared back at him. “Why, the problem of a self-important man who thinks women are incapable of taking care of themselves. And who thought that the notion of a little discomfort would surely dissuade me from the task ahead. You, Captain Denford, have never undertaken a night march on Strathmore Mountain. It’s no stroll in Hyde Park, I can assure you. Sooner or later, you will discover that I am no feeble female.”
