Rescued By A Viscount(46)

“Come, we shall have some tea and await the fine evening meal I’m sure the proprietor is now conjuring up for us,” he said, holding out his hand to her.

“I think I should just stay in here, Simon.”

“It is a private parlor, so you will be safe,” Simon said, watching her fidget with the curtain. “Now tell me, besides the fact that you have lied to your family and are about to go to Liverpool to pick up your brother’s illegitimate child, what else is bothering you, Claire?”

“This is wrong, Simon.”

She was looking down at the courtyard, but he suspected she was not really seeing it. “What is wrong?”

“You helping me, being here with me. I have put you to so much trouble and this is not your problem. My selfishness could bring so much trouble down on your head.” She turned now, and he saw once again that her brown eyes were filled with worry.

“I thought we’d dealt with that matter, Claire. It is my choice to help you and one I make gladly. Now please take my hand, wife, as I’m hungry and have no time for your vapors.”

She gave him one jerky nod, then came across the room and took his hand. He led them silently down the stairs to the small parlor the landlord had prepared.

They ate the bland meal of potatoes and beef in a thin gravy. He talked, and she listened but offered only the occasional reply.

Merlin arrived as they finished. The coachman bowed stiffly to Claire before speaking. “There are a few shady characters at present in the public rooms, my lord. Ben and I thought to alert you to that fact,” Merlin said, shooting Claire a quick, worried look.

“Thank you, Merlin. I shall take Miss Belmont upstairs now, and I would ask that you and Ben also retire soon. We shall be safe until morning with you beside us.”

Merlin didn’t question that Claire would stay in the same room as Simon because Simon had informed his men that for her safety, this would be the case. If they thought it odd, neither said so; he paid them handsomely for that loyalty.

“I’ll get Ben to finish his ale, my lord, and we’ll be up shortly.”

“Excellent. Come now, Claire. We shall retire,” Simon said when Merlin had left. She didn’t argue, just took his hand and let him lead her out of the dining parlor.

“Evening, my lord, my lady. Fine night, ain’t it?”

The man who had spoken appeared before them, a foolish, drunken smile displaying two yellow teeth on his face. His clothes were dirty, and his breath smelt of many hours’ drinking.

“Good evening. Please step aside, as you are blocking our way.” Simon kept Claire behind him while he held his eyes steady on the man. “I have no qualms about making you step aside if that is the problem, sir, however I would rather not do so with my wife watching.”

The man looked at him, and something in Simon’s face alerted him that it would be in his best interests to move, so he did, muttering something as he shuffled away.

Simon urged Claire up the stairs and into their room, where he closed the door behind him. Looking in the lock, he found no key and cursed soundly. Pulling the pistol from his belt, he handed it to Claire.

“Hold this until I come back with the key. If anyone enters, shoot him…unless it’s me or one of my coachman,” he added with a smile she failed to return. “I’ll keep you safe, Claire–trust me.”

“But who will keep you safe, Simon? Must you go downstairs with that man there?” She was pale again, and he wondered if she was thinking that all of this could have been happening to her alone, with no one to look after her. The thought did not sit well in his stomach so it must have been terrifying to her.

“I have two of my men at present down there. They will keep me safe whilst I get the key from the proprietor. I will be five minutes at the most, Claire, I promise.”

She nodded, and Simon left and made his way downstairs. The proprietor was behind the bar. Merlin and Ben were nowhere in sight, which he guessed meant they were checking the horses before retiring.

“I wish for the key to my room, please, sir. I do not want to sleep the night with the door unlocked.”

“Lookee here, Neb. It’s the toff what I found in the hallway. Right shame he don’t have the sweet filly with the nice titties with him.”

Simon ignored the voice over his right shoulder and the sudden need to plant his fist in the man’s face and continued to look at the proprietor. He needed to get back to Claire, and starting a fight was not the way to achieve that. “I believe I asked you for something, sir. Perhaps now would be the time for you to retrieve it?”

“Thinks he’s too grand for us, he does, Neb. One of them toffs with full pockets that would fall if a body blew on him.”