Almost a Countess by Jenna Jaxon
Chapter 21
The journey to Grantham, where they expected to spend the second night, was indeed long, made even more so by the keen looks Aunt Mimi sent them regularly, whenever the conversation in the carriage lagged. Of course, she and Finn were innocent of any wrongdoing, but her aunt obviously did not think so. Unfortunately, they could hardly protest their innocence until she accused them of something. It was altogether a very confusing and tense day of travel. And as Aunt Mimi merely continued to glare at them, Dora was exceedingly thankful when, sometime after noon, they swept into the yard of a coaching inn—the Olde White Hart in Newark-on-Trent—and disembarked. Never had she been so sick of commenting on the weather in her life. Now, at least, they could praise or complain about the food when they returned to their journey.
The meal went smoothly, the food actually well-cooked and presented in their private parlor. Dora and her aunt freshened up then left the room to allow Finn to do the same. They walked out to the coachyard, where Aunt Mimi’s coachman had the carriage ready for them.
“Shouldn’t we wait here for Mrs. Devereaux, aunt?” Dora peered back into the inn, looking for Finn.
“Yes, Dora, I should say we must.” Aunt Mimi grasped her arm tightly, bringing Dora’s attention to her aunt’s face, now with an uncharacteristic smile pasted on it.
“What is wro— Ouch.”
Squeezing her arm tighter stopped Dora’s words as Aunt Mimi nodded slightly toward the courtyard.
A bolt of fear shot through Dora, but she managed to turn her head naturally toward the carriage.
A troop of seven soldiers, their red coats bright in the afternoon sun, stood milling around the coachyard.
Dear God. Dora would have staggered had Aunt Mimi not pinched the arm she held in a vise-grip. The extra nip of pain cleared Dora’s head and set her to thinking how best to warn Finn of the soldiers’ presence without attracting any undue attention to him. She looked Aunt Mimi in the eyes. “Let me go see what is keeping dear Mrs. Devereaux, aunt. You stay here while I fetch her.”
Aunt Mimi nodded, apparently pleased with Dora’s response. If only she didn’t start to shake like a tree in high wind. She turned back toward the inn and hurried into the taproom, just as Finn was about to emerge.
“I truly dinna know how ye ladies manage these skirts—” Finn stopped, a frown quickly replacing his sunny smile. “Dora, ye look as though ye’ve seen a ghost. What has happened?”
“There you are, Mrs. Devereaux.” She raised the pitch of her voice to a squeaky whine. “We wondered where you had gotten to.” Laughing, Dora took Finn’s arm and leaned into him. “Soldiers in the yard,” she whispered then continued to laugh.
A split second of panic in Finn’s face gave way to smiles and his laughter joined hers. “I couldna seem tae find my shawl, my dear. It had slipped under the table, and I had the worst time locating it.” He dropped his voice low. “How many? Is it Scarlet?”
“Well, I’m glad you finally found it. It is too pretty to lose.” The patrons would think them totally mad, but she cared not a jot. “Seven. I didn’t see him, but he didn’t have that many with him. I pray it is a different troop.”
“Quite likely. And sae,” Finn straightened his wig with the little lacy cap pinned to it, “yer aunt’s subterfuge may be my saving grace at that. Come along. We have tae act as naturally as possible.”
They joined Aunt Mimi, still standing just outside the inn door, surveying the chaos as though she were a general taking stock of a battleground. “Come along, Dora, Mrs. Devereaux. Tempus fugit.” She started toward the carriage, picking her way over the dusty ground. “We have miles to journey yet today.”
Dora and Finn fell in behind her, still giggling, leaning on one another, which helped mask Finn’s height. They entered the carriage and settled quickly. Aunt Mimi rapped on the trap. “Drive on, Upton.”
Finn sat well back in his seat, his head bowed so all that could be seen was his gray wig and cap. He fussed with the shawl, which also helped hide him from anyone interested in the occupants of the carriage.
Aware that she was known to Lieutenant Scarlet and his men, Dora turned to her aunt. “Aunt Mimi, can you look at the soldiers as we drive past them? Tell me if there is one who seems to be in command who is tall and blond? He’s a lieutenant, if you know what that uniform looks like.”
“His coat is a brighter shade o’ red, almost scarlet,” Finn whispered, “with a gorget, a metal plate around his neck.”
The carriage turned in the wide yard, flashing by the group of soldiers.
“I see one gentleman with a metal medallion of some sort around his neck,” Aunt Mimi reported, “but he has dark hair.” She peered out the window as the carriage left the yard. “I saw no one else who might have been the man you’re looking for. All the others’ uniforms were much plainer than the brunette’s.”
“It must be another patrol, Finn.” Dora heaved a sigh of relief and sank back on the seat. Her shoulders were quite sore from the tension of the past few minutes.
“Which could mean they’ve sent out additional troops tae look for me.” A glum look she’d never seen on Finn’s face sent a pang of fear through Dora.
“If so, they did not recognize you just now.” She stuck her head out the window and crooked it to look back down the road toward the inn. “They are not giving pursuit.”
“Thank goodness.” Aunt Mimi settled her walking stick between her shoes. “I would not like to have to invoke the power of the Duchess of Ostroda.” She raised her chin. “They would find I am a person to be reckoned with in military circles, both in Britain as well as Prussia.”
Finn exchanged a smile with Dora, and they relaxed a bit, although Dora couldn’t help but be on edge. She didn’t suppose she’d be absolutely relieved until they arrived in London and Finn contacted his uncle. Still, it was encouraging that the soldiers didn’t seem to notice that Mrs. Devereaux was not a woman. With a little more luck, perhaps they would make it through this journey unscathed.
The conversation during the afternoon was less perfunctory, more animated in all three of them. Aunt Mimi even regaled them with stories of her life in Prussia, and Dora was shocked to find out how wild her aunt had been in her youth. Finn volunteered more information about his life and family, which seemed to go far toward thawing her aunt where he was concerned. All in all, despite their fright in the innyard, the afternoon had been encouraging.
Shadows were beginning to lengthen when the carriage arrived at their designated stop for the night, The Angel Inn in Grantham. Aunt Mimi had insisted on stopping here as she’d apparently always given her custom to this particular inn whenever she traveled in this part of the world. The imposing inn—built sometime during the Middle Ages—had served members of the Royal household for centuries. In which case, Aunt Mimi had said when they were planning the myriad legs of their journey, it was good enough for her.
Dora had not been particular about their itinerary, although seeing its ancient gray stone made her hope the rooms would be warm enough. Not a sentiment she’d often had to voice in early September.
They were shown to their chambers, and even though the stone walls made her room somewhat chilly, the fire had been lit early and already begun to warm the room. A chest at the end of the huge bed held additional thick blankets, so Dora was satisfied that she would not be cold during the night.
Of course, if she could find a way, she intended to spend some time with Finn in his room after everyone else retired. If they had sufficient restraint, perhaps they could lie together for a while, kissing and caressing one another. They’d be playing with fire, true, but after Finn’s unusual self-control last night, she couldn’t help but think he could do the same this evening. And every evening until they reached London.
During dinner, she sent him little glances she hoped he understood. She also took the opportunity to nudge his foot under the table, just to reinforce her message. At least he seemed to catch her glances and returned them whenever her aunt wasn’t being attentive, so she believed he’d understood what she planned to do.
After dinner, at Dora’s request for an early evening, she and Aunt Mimi bade Finn goodnight, and Larkin and Marcella assisted them into their nightgowns and then into bed. Dora blew out her light and lay still, breathing as evenly and slowly as possible, all the while listening to her aunt, waiting for her to fall asleep. The day must have tired Aunt Mimi, for within ten minutes, the older woman had turned on her back and was snoring lightly. Dora counted to one hundred then slipped from under the covers and padded to the door.
Larkin had left her robe fortuitously placed on a chair nearby, and she took it up then eased the door to the parlor open and sped through it. Once it was shut, Dora breathed easier. She shrugged into her robe and belted it. She’d never been one for breaking rules, but that was before she had something worth breaking them for.
Taking a deep breath, Dora cracked the door and stuck her head out into the corridor. The coast was clear, so she crept into the dark hallway and sped the short steps to Finn’s room on the left. She scratched lightly on the panel then pressed her ear to it but heard nothing. Was he asleep already? Well, she could think of several ways to awaken him so he wouldn’t mind a bit. Smiling at those images, Dora pushed down the latch and slipped inside.
The room was pitch black. Not even the fire had been banked, leaving it chilly.
“Finn?” This was exceedingly odd.
She took a step into the darkness and suddenly sensed someone behind her. She whirled around, opening her lips to shout when a rough hand clamped over her mouth, shutting off her cry.