Page 36 of Betting on a Duke
Chapter Fifteen
Why was herbed rocking? Was she on a ship in the middle of the ocean? It took Clarice a moment to pull herself out of the deep sleep she had fallen into. She needed time to clear her mind and distinguish fact from fiction while her eyes fluttered open. She looked beside her at a still-resting Letitia, leaned forward, moved the curtain aside, and was surprised to see the Black Pigeon coming into focus. “Letitia,” she said as she gently shook her arm. “We have arrived at the coaching station.”
“Hmmm,” Letitia moaned. “We are what?” She opened her eyes and rubbed them. “I can’t believe we’ve arrived. I must have slept the entire time. So much for being good company for you.”
“Don’t feel bad. I slept the whole time, too,” Clarice said. “We obviously needed our sleep.”
Kirkland opened the door, flipped down the stairs, and reached inside to help Clarice out. “Thankfully, the rain stopped a while back, and we made good time. I’ll have everything ready for departure after breakfast tomorrow. Mrs. Shelley wanted me to remind you to take your meals inside your room and keep the door locked. I’ll be in the stables with the horses, watching who comes and goes. Send word if you need anything or see anything suspicious.”
“Thank you, Kirkland,” she said as she stood on the ground next to the carriage while he helped Letitia out.
Once they were both standing outside the carriage, Kirkland reached under the seat and took out two portmanteaus. “I’ll escort you inside and see you to your room. Mrs. Shelley also thought it was best if you stayed in one room to keep each other safe.”
Letitia huffed. “I believe I need to find myself a Mrs. Shelley. She certainly does think of everything.”
Clarice laughed. “She does.” They entered the Black Pigeon, and Clarice blinked to adjust her eyes to the dimness inside. The gloomy day and the sparse lighting from the candles didn’t help illuminate the room. The taproom was full of guests enjoying a meal or an ale to quench their thirst. The smell of food made Clarice’s stomach clench as she realized she hadn’t eaten anything from the basket on the ride because she’d been asleep the entire time.
The three of them headed to the bar, and an older gentleman who looked like the proprietor said, “Welcome to the Black Pigeon. I’m Mr. Dunphy, the owner. How may I help you?”
“Good evening and thank you,” Clarice said. “I’m looking for Miss Jones. I believe she’s here and has a room reserved for us for the night.”
“Ah, Miss Jones,” he said with a friendly grin. “She’s waiting for you. Come this way.” He took a key from a peg, stepped around the bar, and climbed the narrow but sturdy stairs up one flight and down a long corridor, stopping at room number four. “This is your room. Miss Jones is next door in room six.” He unlocked the door and pushed it open.
“Thank you.”
“Mrs. Dunphy will bring your dinner at seven.”
“Thank you, again,” Clarice said as she entered the room, followed by Letitia and Kirkland.
He placed the bags on the floor and bowed. “If there’s nothing else, I’ll go see to the horses, my ladies.”
“Could you knock on Miss Jones’s door and tell her we’ve arrivedand don’t need her services until the morning?”
“Yes, my lady.”
Kirkland left, closing the door behind him, and she immediately locked it and looked around, taking in the room. It was decorated in deep blue and beige. The large bed occupied much of the space. There was also a small table with two chairs, a bedside table, and a tall chest of drawers. A privacy screen was in one corner, and, of course, an unlit fireplace. Perfect for the two of them for one night.
“What side of the bed do you sleep on?” Letitia asked as she walked around the room, taking everything in.
“Right.”
“Good. I sleep on the left.” Letitia moved to the window and pushed the curtain aside. “You do realize we never gave the proprietor our names? I feel like a spy on assignment for the Crown.”
Her comment caused the tension in her body to ease somewhat. “Now that you mention it, it does. Except we aren’t doing anything remotely dangerous or honorable like spying for England.”
Letitia turned and looked at her with complete seriousness. “Dangerous is a possibility, since we know your father shot Stanton when he tried to run off with you to Gretna Green.”
Her tension flared up again. “You are right. My father is a dangerous man. One who is determined to get what he wants.” She huffed and sank onto the side of the bed, causing it to dip and squeak from her weight. “I thought I was done with him when I married Chesterfield. Never, in my wildest imagination, did I think he’d come back into my life demanding I marry for a second time a man of his choosing. I will do everything in my power to see that he fails. My wants and needs will prevail if it’s the last thing I accomplish in my life.”
It wasn’t long before Mrs. Dunphy arrived with their dinner, a tasty rabbit stew with carrots and potatoes, rolls, tea, and blueberry pie for dessert. After they finished eating, Clarice was full and sleepy again. “I’m going to bed. I can’t keep my eyes open.”
“Go ahead. I feel the same way. Besides, the sooner we go to sleep, the sooner tomorrow comes, and we arrive in Newmarket to find your Stanton.”
“My Stanton. I love the sound of that.” Knowing she would be on the road today, Clarice dressed in a traveling dress that buttoned in the front, making it easy to remove, along with her corset and petticoat. Wearing only her chemise, she climbed beneath the covers. She knew Mrs. Shelley had packed a night rail for her to wear, but she was too tired to put it on. Her soft, linen chemise would do just fine. Curling up on her side, she said, “Good night, Letitia. Thank you for coming on this journey with me, and let us hope we find your Greyson in Newmarket as well.”
Without opening her eyes, she could tell Letitia was undressing. The bed dipped on the opposite side as she climbed in. “Good night, and you are most welcome,” Letitia murmured. “I believe I shall sleep well dreaming about Greyson.”
Moments earlier, Clarice could barely keep her eyes open; now she was wide awake, listening to Letitia’s soft, even breaths as she slept, along with noises and voices from the taproom below. Eventually, the sounds lulled her. Her eyelids fluttered closed, and her heart beat slow and steady as she drifted into dreamland. She dreamed of Samuel and his thoroughbred horses and how happy and content he was with them.
