The Empire and the Wolf King (Kaitlyn and the Highlander #21)

9. Chapter 9 - Kaitlyn

CHAPTER 9 - KAITLYN

THE COACHMAN’S REST - 1775

W e pulled up in front of a small inn called the Coachman’s Rest, in a wee village not much more than a crossroads. I was exhausted from the day of travel. “How many damn miles was that? If it wasn’t a few hundred I’m going to be pissed.”

“Ye will be furious tae ken that we hae traveled about…” He counted on his fingers. “Twenty miles.” He climbed from the carriage and put out a hand to help me out. “This is not even Charlottesville yet, we hae ten miles tae go on the morrow.”

My eyes went wide. “My ass feels like we should be in California by now.”

He put out his arm for me to clutch and whispered, “Ye might need yer husband tae rub yer buttocks in the room. Twill be a chore for which I am prepared tae offer my services.”

I batted his arm, playfully, and we swept past the driver and the carriage and strode up to the building. It was a two-story inn, with a brick foundation and the top-half framed with clapboard. There was a creaking sign swinging in the front that said simply, Coachman’s Rest, in faded paint. We crossed the small porch, entered, and went directly to the dining room for a meal and a drink before we would go up to our room for the night.

It took a moment for my eyes to adjust. The room was full with about fifteen other travelers, and was dim and smoky, lit by oil lamps casting shadows and dancing light across the wooden tables. There was a comfortable fire in the hearth, adding to the ambiance.

And the food smelled great. Magnus moaned, “Och, ye smell the roasting meat, mo reul-iuil? Our driver said this was the best food for many miles.”

The innkeeper, a portly man with thinning hair and a stained apron, directed us to a table near the hearth, and a serving girl quickly delivered us mugs of ale.

Magnus pulled out a chair for me. “Daena drink m’ale, I will be right back, I need tae secure our room. If the waitress comes by, ask her for the largest meal she has tae offer.”

I laughed. “I won’t drink your ale, promise.”

At a table near us, I noticed a man was writing in a leather-bound journal. I watched him, wondering what he was writing about, wishing I had a pen and paper to begin a list of things to do. But Magnus had our pens, I needed one to keep in my own pockets... then again, I didn’t have pockets, so I would need a bag. I needed to get a bag and some better clothes and... I sighed. I needed to make a list.

I really really wished we had a flashlight. The only one we had was the tiny one in the pen Lochie gave us for his wedding. And it was not enough, it was almost worse than no flashlight, because the light was too weak and probably the battery would die really soon. Too soon. We would likely be stuck here for a time and the thought of being surrounded by unending darkness made me uneasy. I moved the oil lamp closer to my side of the table.

The waitress approached with a basket overflowing with crusty bread — Magnus had already placed our order. I sipped my ale, waiting...

Finally Magnus returned to the table and sank into his chair.

I said, “I didn’t eat without you, that’s how much I love you.”

He raised his ale. “I love ye too, and we hae a room, Madame Campbell.”

I clinked my mug against his.

Then he whispered, as he put down his mug, “I hae also been told that Master Thomas Jefferson is here.” He glanced around the room. “So we are blessed with a miracle.” He pulled apart a hunk of bread and buttered it thickly.

I said, “Thomas Jefferson, here? Right now, in this room?” I gestured with my head. “That’s him, then, right there, writing. I noticed him right away, don’t know why…”

Magnus wiped his fingers off on a napkin, took another sip of his ale. “Ye are certain, ye think tis him?”

My eyes swept the room, there was no one else that came close. He had that aura of being well educated and confident, kinda like the ‘celebrity glow’ we used to talk about in Los Angeles. I had immediately noticed him, he seemed almost familiar. “Best guess, having only seen him in paintings, yes.”

“Och, I wish I were dressed better, but twill hae tae do.”

Magnus rose from his chair, strode to the table, and bowed. I couldn’t hear as they spoke in low voices, but a few moments later they shook hands and Magnus returned to his seat.

Magnus grinned. “I just met Tommy.”

“Seriously, really? ”

“Aye, he is right there. I canna wait tae tell Master Cook, he will be furious he wasna here.”

“Damn right, he’s going to be so jealous. What did you say, what did you do?”

“I introduced m’self as the Duke of Awe, and said that I had been on a journey tae meet with him.”

“Oh my, what are we meeting with him about, what did you tell him?”

“I daena ken, we hae about ten minutes tae come up with it — he is going tae come join us as soon as he is done with his meal.”

My eyes widened. “What…? I... I’m about to meet Thomas Jefferson?” I felt flustered like I had just heard I would meet one of the Beatles. “Okay, so… great. ” I patted my bonnet and smoothed the apron over my dress. “How do I look, do I look okay?”

“Ye look beautiful.”

“You’re my husband and while that is a perfect answer, I meant how do I look to meet Thomas Jefferson?”

“I would prefer finer clothes for both of us, but these can be explained as our traveling clothes. He kens this was an accidental meetin’. We just pretend tae hae our finery in our trunks in our room…”

“Good point, yes, these are my travel clothes.” I straightened my back. “This is going to be fine.”

Magnus asked, “Remind me, which king are they fightin’?”

“George the Third.”

Magnus nodded. “We had the Acts of Union in 1707, the Scots will be expected tae be loyal tae England, but,” he whispered, “If they hae moved here, they are likely tae side with the Americans, I think. We all canna stand an English king. How far along in the revolutionary war are we?”

“I truly wished I had paid more attention to the history books.”

“Or I had asked more questions of Siddall, but I dinna want him tae be wary of me as we were sleeping on his land.”

“Yeah, I get it… Guessing, I think there has been a battle, but we’re at the beginning. But also the news is fairly slow. I bet if you say that you haven’t heard the latest news he will believe you.”

“Which leads us tae the question, what was I goin’ tae meet him about?”

We were interrupted by plates of food placed in front of us. I said, “I gotta eat to think,” and sliced a piece of roast chicken and shoved it in my mouth.

Magnus kept glancing at Jefferson’s table. “Nae pressure, mo reul-iuil, but we need a reason, somethin’ worthy tae get our names written down.”

I swallowed hard. “Okay, um... how about this? You’re here to discuss... trade agreements — Scotland wants to trade with the colonies, independent of England maybe, I think that’s a thing...”

Magnus nodded slowly. “It could work. Twould explain our presence and give us somethin’ tae talk about, but he is likely tae put us off for a future meetin’. He is travelin’, dealin’ with thoughts of war, I daena ken if he will think trade routes are urgent enough.”

I scooped roasted carrots into my mouth. “This is so delicious… wow, I was famished. And yes, it needs to be more urgent, to involve the war in some way. I am going to be quiet, for sure I will say something wrong in front of Thomas Jefferson. I feel nervous already and you know how I get.”

“Aye, ye talk a great deal when ye are nervous, as ye are doin’ now.”

“Ha ha, very funny my love, but this is nerve-wracking, our rescue depends on us getting our ‘who what and when’ written down in Thomas Jefferson’s hand in his book.”

Magnus chuckled. “If ye endlessly talk in yer modern voice he might write about meetin’ ye.”

“He would write, ‘met a crazy lady today.’”

We both glanced at Jefferson’s table. He was nearing the end of his meal.

I said, “But meeting a crazy lady isn’t good enough. He’s liable to dismiss us and not write any of it down, so I will hush. The most important thing is we have to get your name in his records. What if you told him you were going to offer troops and… what else would be good?”

Magnus said, “Twould be hard tae offer troops, but I can get him ships and weapons.”

I nodded. “Good, ships and weapons, you could do that, right?”

“Aye, as the King of Riaghalbane I can give Tommy Jefferson a hand with a wee war in the eighteenth century. I can give him some ships if tis what he needs.”

“I think the person we really want to speak to is George Washington — but who knows where he is?” I took another bite of the meal and swallowed.

Magnus said, “I could ask him tae take a message tae George Washington.”

“Yes, and if we can get Thomas Jefferson to write the offer in his?—”

Just then, we heard the scraping of a chair.