Page 17 of Eight for Losing, One for Loving

Chapter 5

Dear Larkin,

I’m not sure you’ll get this in time, but I’m in a bit of a fix. Actually, Vi and I are in a good deal of trouble. Mau has been taken and we are in pursuit of the kidnappers. Now we’re stuck overnight in the backend of beyond and I’m terrified someone will see Vi with me. She’ll be ruined and then she’ll never marry me, stubborn creature that she is, because she’ll think everyone will believe she must. I never knew a woman more contrary. I know I can count on your discretion, old man. For the love of God, get down here with her maid, and if you can manage it, her mama too. I know it will be devilish awkward for you, but Kitty is a no-nonsense sort, so if you explain things carefully, it will all be fine. Kitty will know how to deal with things before the entire world thinks I’m the sort of fellow who goes about ruining ladies of quality.

We’re staying at the Queen’s Head in Tadlow. The Vicar, the Reverend Harbottle, is helping us search for Mau, though he believes we are married. His sister owns the inn, and we are signed in as Mr and Mrs Huntington.

I’m paying a young man an exorbitant fee to ride through the night and get this to you by morning. I pray you are sober enough to do as I request. Please, Larkin, Vi is depending on you, little does she know it, and so am I.

―Excerpt of a letter from Mr Leo Hunt (Son of Alice and Nathanial Hunt) to The Hon’ble Larkin Weston (Son of The Right Hon’ble Solomon ‘Solo’ and Jemima Weston, Baron and Baroness Rothborn).

24th June 1850, The Queen’s Head, Wrestlingworth, the Bedfordshire, Cambridgeshire border.

The Queen’s Head was a handsome, red brick building and Leo felt a surge of relief at finding it was everything the vicar had suggested. Window boxes adorned the façade, planted up with bright flowers and moonlight reflected off the gleaming glass behind them. Inside, they were greeted politely by the reverend’s sister, who looked askance at their lack of baggage until Leo explained that her brother had sent them.

“We’ve had a bit of a mishap,” Leo explained, in no mood to get into a long-winded tale about Egyptian Water Sphinxes at this time of night. He was tired and hungry and horribly aware he would need his wits about him for the coming night. “Your brother is helping us, but thought we would do well to come here for the night. He is to meet us here in the morning.”

The landlady, a Mrs Caruthers, relaxed in the light of this information. She was a pleasantly plump woman in her late fifties with the ruddy complexion of a woman who spent long hours in the kitchen. “Oh, well, if Archie thinks it’s all right, then of course I shall welcome you,” she said with a sigh. “Only one must be so careful. We’re a respectable house, we are, but you’d be surprised at the sorts who try to book a room. Pretending to be married,”she added confidentially, mouthing the words behind her hand to Leo so she did not shock Vi.

“Indeed,” Leo said gravely, praying the woman never discovered the truth. “Shocking.”

“Well, it is,” she said, shaking her head. “I don’t know what the world is coming to with such goings on, but not in my inn! Now then, Mr Caruthers would normally greet you and show you up, but he’s indisposed tonight—his gout is playing him up—but as you’ve no baggage to carry, perhaps I might just give you your key, for I’m run off my feet, truth be told.”

“Certainly,” Leo said, giving her his most winning smile as she handed the key over.

“It’s our best room,” she told him, responding to his smile with a warm expression that crinkled her eyes. “A nice big comfy bed and there’s a lovely view, though you’ll only appreciate that in the morning.”

“Thank you kindly,” Leo said, aware that Vi had turned a startling shade of scarlet at the mention of the ‘nice big comfy bed,’ and was eager to get her away from the woman before Mrs Caruthers noticed and got suspicious.

“There’s a lamb stew for dinner, and apple pie,” she added, looking enquiringly at them.

“Yes, perfect. In our rooms, if you don’t mind. And perhaps a hot bath?” Leo added, placing a generous pile of coins on the counter between them.

“Oh! Yes, sir. Certainly, sir, I’ll see to it at once,” the woman replied, beaming at his generosity, calling for the attention of a passing serving maid in the light of such munificence. “Jenny, leave that a moment. Run up to the rose chamber and light the candles and turn the bed down, there’s a good girl. If you’d like to follow Jenny, sir, she’ll show you the way.”

Leo nodded but went to speak to Norton first. “Arrange your dinner and a room, but then I want you to leave at first light and return to town. Explain everything to Lady Trevick,” he said, handing Norton enough coin to cover the expense of such a journey. “I shall send a messenger to Mr Weston which will arrive before you do, but just in case he is in no fit state to help me, I should like a backup.”

“Yes, sir,” Norton said, understanding at once. “I’ll bring a change of clothes and the like for you too, sir.”

“Good man,” Leo said in approval before turning and guiding Vi away and towards the stairs as Jenny darted quickly ahead of them. “Come, lady wife,” he murmured. “Let us investigate that nice, big, comfy bed.”

It was wicked of him, but he could not help but feel she deserved a little retribution for landing him in this fix. He had no doubt who it was would shoulder the blame should they be discovered. He would bear it too, and gladly, if only she would marry him.

Fat chance.

He glanced at Vi to see how this sally had been swallowed, expecting a frosty glare of indignation, and was startled to see something else entirely in her gaze. Speculation, or was that curiosity, glinted in her eyes and a little sliver of apprehension slid down his spine.

Following in Jenny’s wake, they were guided to the rose chamber, which was aptly named. The door opened on well-oiled hinges and showed them a clean, spacious room with whitewashed walls upon which a deft hand had painted simple but recognisable pink roses. The roses climbed extravagantly over beams and around an enormous four-poster bed, over which was a counterpane likewise embellished with embroidered pink cabbage roses and hung with bed curtains in a printed rose fabric. A vase of fresh roses in varying shades from pale blush to shocking fuchsia sat on a small table by the window, their sweet scent perfuming the room. Leo blanched, a little overwhelmed by the excessive amounts of pink, but Vi seemed utterly charmed so he relaxed, pleased that she was content with the room at least.

Jenny hurried to light the lamps, draw the curtains and turn down the bed. “Will you be wanting a fire, sir?”

It was a warm night, but Leo looked to Vi, who shook her head, much to his relief. He had no desire to sleep in a sauna, which the room would surely become with a fire and a bath.

“No, thank you, but a cold bottle of your best white wine would be appreciated,” he told her, giving her a generous tip as she grinned at him and bobbed a curtsey. “Yes, sir.”

Jenny went out, closing the door behind her and Leo turned back to Vi, who was regarding the huge bed with an arrested expression.

“Second thoughts, pet?” he asked her casually, setting his hat and gloves down on top of the chest of drawers beside him.