it isn’t. It’s tea, but this is the only glass Mr. West could find. His wife isn’t feeling well this morning, and he’s done a fine job seeing to my breakfast.”
“At least it is a decent combination.” He pulled a chair out and sat down, devouring three scones within ten minutes.
“Hungry?” Clarissa asked, cocking a brow mockingly.
“Starving.”
“Tea?” He motioned for her to fill a mug for him as well. “Anything else, your majesty? I am but a humble servant.” She bowed her head demurely, her tone mocking.
“As a matter of fact. The next time you decide to take your breakfast, let me know where you are. Some of these places have unsavory characters.”
“I left you a note. Did you not find it?”
“No.”
“Well, perhaps next time you should look more carefully before you accuse others of crimes they have yet to commit.”
“Are you ready to continue?”
“The horses should be saddled and ready. I brought my bag down with me.”
“I need to run up and get mine. I will be back momentarily.”
She nodded her agreement and sat back in the chair.
Justin charged up the stairs and opened the door to their room. His shirt that she had slept in last night still lay strewn across the bed. He picked it up and smelled deeply. Faintly he could pick up her scent on the shirt that reminded him of walking among roses. He noticed a piece of paper flutter to the cover of the bed. Downstairs, Clari Clare. He could barely read the hastily scrawled words, but the fact remained, she had left a note. She had even used his shortened version of her name. He stuffed it into the bag as well. He left the room and joined her once more.
“You know, Clare, you really need to work on your handwriting.”
“I know,” she replied flippantly. “I have always had the most atrocious handwriting. Papa tried everything to get me to write better. I don’t know how many tutors I went through when the governess failed to correct me. Being neat takes too much time and effort that I could be spending on other things. Your shortened version of my name makes it even quicker. I find I like it,” she explained as they shrugged into their heavy coats.
They had mounted their horses and left the inn yard. Once more on the road leading away from London, Justin queried, “Such as?”
“Such as what?”
“What better things do you have to do with your time than write?”
“Oh. Well, I would love to travel. That is what I was trying to talk Papa into doing with me when he married Lorraine.”
“Isn’t it a little dangerous to travel just now?”
“He said that as well, and I suppose he does have a valid point. But I’ve never even seen all of our country. I want to see the wild Highlands of Scotland, the quaint villages of Ireland, and the moors of England. There is so much out there, and we are just a small part of it. Even today there are new lands being discovered.”
He watched her face light in awe. She truly found amazement at the world around her.
“You know, my family is from the Highlands, and are not considered all that wild.”
“I’m sure there are. Just as I’m sure there are parts of England that are truly wild as well. But none of that matters right now, does it? I have to find Papa. That is all that I care about.” She squared her shoulders and gave her horse a kick to speed it up. Justin adjusted his horse’s gait to match hers. He took a deep breath, not sure that he really wanted to broach this subject here and now. “What is it?” She turned and looked at him.
“Clare, you know there is a very strong chance we will not find your father.” He watched as she became even straighter in the saddle, if that were possible. They rode for several miles before she spoke.
“Believe it or not, I have actually come to that conclusion as well.
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