He rose and stepped out of the inn for a breath of fresh air. All of the snow they had had was now nearly gone, as though the huge storm had been nothing more than a bad dream.
The London mail coach stopped and discharged passengers, and picked up a few who were resuming their journeys. The inside was packed, the box too. He watched for a time as they loaded the luggage, but without his greatcoat on he found the outdoor air a bit too brisk.
Blake hugged his arms to his chest, and turned to go back inside. He smoothed down his hair and then headed back up the stairs to see Belle and get matters settled between them once and for all.
He would suggest them seeing more of each other in London, with a view to some sort of future…
Marriage? The very thought winded him, but if that was what it took--
He drew up abruptly as he saw the door to her room was open. He adjusted his cravat nervously one last time, and raised his hand to rap politely.
He drew himself up quickly when he saw two men in the room, the passengers who had just disembarked from the mail coach.
He stopped and stared. The maid caught his eye and smiled at him.
He stepped out of the doorway and whispered urgently, "I say, where is the lady who was in this room?"
"Left first thing this morning, so she did."
Blake could hardly breathe. "Left!"
"Aye, she headed off with the apothecary, Mr. Samuels. They both needed to get off to London for Christmas. They're riding post down there."
Blake stomach felt as though it had lurched down to his boots. Perdition take it! Belle was gone!
He dithered for a moment on the landing, and then ran downstairs.
But the London coach had already departed. In any case there had been no room for him. He had seen how full it was. Even if there had been, it would never have caught up with Mr. Samuels if he had at least a six-hour head start and was riding post. Of all the wretched luck! How on earth was he going to find Belle now?
He went back up to James' and Mr. Greengage's room, and asked how they felt. Trying to restrain himself, he turned the conversation to the little they knew about Mr. Samuels or Belle. He learned that Belle's brother lived in London, a short cab ride away from the coach depot. She was called Neville. Decent class obviously, from her clothes and manners. But nothing else.
Well, it wasn't a lot, but better than nothing.
Mr. Samuels he had better luck with. He was from Bristol. Blake was heading to Bath for a few days, and could go to Bristol from there.
But there was no way of knowing how long the apothecary would be away, so that he could help track down Belle by telling him where he had dropped her off in London. Still, the information would prove useful eventually.
Blake returned to his own room, where he checked John's condition. There was no way of knowing when he was going to be well enough to travel, let alone resume his duties. He would have to try to find a replacement driver, go see his friend Michael in Bath and spend a few days cheering him, and travel back to London. At this rate he would be away for at least a week. The thought of having to wait that long to see Belle again was almost too much to bear.
"John, would you mind awfully if I left you here to rest and got the mail coach to Bath? I shall come back with a new driver in a few days to help get us home."
"No, sir, I understand. If you could just leave word for the local doctor to look in on me?"
"I will, surely. My comrade Edgar is not far away. I'll send a note."
"Thank you, sir."
Blake's frustration knew no bounds when the coach arrived at two o'clock and was completely full. "Everyone travelling home for the holidays, don't you know," the driver said by way of apology.
Blake was ringing his hands in despair when a small sandy-haired chap in the middle of the backwards seat spoke up. "I'm getting off in another fifteen miles. If you need to get to Bath so urgently, take my seat and I'll see what I can arrange here at the inn."
"My carriage is actually here. If you can get a driver to take you-"
At the landlord's assurance that he would find someone to take the little man, Blake snatched his bags out of his room, and ran for the coach just as it was about to depart.
He flung his luggage up onto the rack and squashed into place inside between two portly gentleman. He longed for the softness of Belle by his side in the coach. She had been so peaceful, serene, slender, supple, sensual...
He fell asleep dreaming of her. Though he told himself he had ought to be noble and give her up, the other part of him told him he had never met any woman so exciting and lovely in his life, and might never ever meet one again.