Read Online The Road to Gretna by Carola Dunn - Free Book Online Page A

There was another inn, the George, and she recalled their joking about the number of Georges in the country.
    If she ever travelled this way again, and she was bound to as wife of a Scotsman, the road would be haunted by memories of Lord Kilmore.
    The chariot turned down a narrow street and then into Castlegate. It stopped at the Beehive, a small, whitewashed building. To Penny’s delight, the place of an inn sign was taken by a real beehive, perched in a lime tree by the door. Between tree and wall hung a board with a verse inscribed on it:
     
    Stop traveller this wondrous sign explore
    And say when thou hast viewed it o’er and o’er
    Now Grantham now two rarities are thine
    A lofty steeple and a living sign.
     
    “Foolishness,” Angus snorted. “‘Tis a wonder they don’t lose all their patrons for fear of being stung. I hope Miss White willna fear to stay here. We could have gone to the Angel instead if his lordship had deigned to wait for a reply.”
    “‘Death, where is thy sting?’” Mrs. Ratchett enquired gloomily.
    Penny noticed with a pang of guilty compassion that the old woman looked exhausted. “It’s too late to change,” she said impatiently. “Come, ma’am, you shall lie down for a while before dinner. I’m sure you will find it more restful to dine in your chamber, too, come to think of it. I shall not need you to chaperon me as Henrietta and her abigail will be with us at table.”
    “Why, miss, that’s right kindly of you but I knows me dooty and...”
    “I’ll make sure the waiters have instructions to bring you everything you would like.” As she expected, Mrs. Ratchett’s protest faded away.
    On hearing Lord Kilmore’s name—or rather his title—the landlord sent his servants bustling about. There was some confusion over the number of chambers to be prepared. Angus requested two for his lordship and two for his own party, only to be contradicted by Penny.
    “I want a separate chamber,” she told him in a fierce whisper. “I cannot bear her snoring and her quotations all night.”
    “But ye maun hae a chaperon wi’ ye. Besides, I doot they’ve anither chamber tae spare.”
    “Then Henrietta shall share with me. She will not object, after asking for my company, and if she wants the bed to herself I don’t mind a truckle bed. Cora can go in with Mrs. Ratchett. And she can take the kitten with her.”
    This plan meeting with Angus’s approval, they all repaired to their chambers. Penny’s was low-ceilinged and far from spacious, being half filled by a huge four-poster bed with a flight of steps by which to climb up to it. A connecting door led to Mrs. Ratchett’s room at the front of the house. Someone had set Penny’s portmanteau on a carved wooden chest by one of the small, diamond-paned windows.
    She unpacked her evening gown. The moss-green sarcenet was even more crushed than the dress she was wearing. She was trying to shake out the creases when a cheerful, white-aproned chambermaid brought her a jug of hot water.
    “Let me press that for ye, miss,” she suggested, pocketing the sixpence Penny gave her. “It don’t look like your maid’ll be budging again this night. Snoring away already, she is.”
    “Yes, please, that will be a great help.” Penny realized that Angus bad forgotten to give their aliases, including Mrs. Ratchett’s as her aunt, to the innkeeper. In fact, despite his annoyance with the baron, Lord Kilmore’s was the only name he had mentioned. It certainly was smoothing their path. “And I’d like this dress I’m wearing pressed also,” she added.
    “I’ll help you off wi’ it.”
    “Thank you, I shall manage. You can take it when you bring back the other.”
    “Right, miss. If there’s aught else you need, just ring the bell.” She poured the hot water into the white china bowl on the washstand and departed.
    Penny stripped to her chemise and washed. Unpinning her hair, she brushed and rebraided it. Though she had had her own