Chapter 9
His wife had made it perfectly clear she didn’t love him, and he only had the duration of the mission to make her fall in love with him. Could he accomplish what he had failed to do over the past two decades in a matter of a few weeks? The longer he could extend their journey, the more time he’d have to convince her to risk spending the rest of her life with him and remain married. Set upon staying the night, he approached the woman behind the inn counter and donned his most winsome smile. “A good eve to you, madam. Might you have rooms available for my lady and me for the evening?”
“Aye.” A woman who had to be at least ten or eleven years his senior, stroked her hair back away from her bright-red cheeks and slid her gaze to his right toward Helen for a moment. When she returned her attention to him, she gave him a wink accompanied by a knowing smile that bespoke mischief. “I’ve got a chamber available…actually, my lord, yer in luck. I’ve got two available tonight since the traveling party who reserved the rooms are delayed up north.”
Next to him, Helen stiffened.
She said, “Well that is fortunate for us, isn’t it, Your Grace. However, we are headed north. Do you know if it was terrible weather that has delayed them?”
Upon hearing his ducal title, the innkeeper broadened her smile and stared up at him. “Not the weather this time. The messenger they sent mentioned something about one of the chits having fallen ill or whatnot.”
Happy to be the center of the innkeeper’s focus while Helen pried for information, Bryce remained quiet. Helen was doing an excellent job of acting concerned while simultaneously not raising suspicion.
“Oh, how terrible…terrible indeed.” Helen squeezed his arm.
He smiled down at his wife who was frowning up at him. He must have missed a signal from the woman since she was clearly expecting him to do something, but what he did not know.
Helen smiled at the older woman and said, “We shall take the unoccupied chambers for the night. Did you say there were two or three?”
“I’ve only got two left, since a gent…” The innkeeper looked down at the register and then said, “Ah yes, Baron Kilman. Nice fellow. He arrived in town earlier. I remember now, he had a bite in the tavern then came back and ordered a bath…Egad! The man arrived sans valet…I was…” The woman turned, grabbed two sets of keys from the wall and then whirled about to thrust them into Bryce’s hand. “Sign yer names on the register. The rooms are on the top floor.” The innkeeper left her post and ran up the stairs to the second floor before disappearing.
They were on the hunt for three women traveling, but it made no sense for the thieves to be heading back south.
“It could be a mere coincidence,” Helen muttered as if she could hear his thoughts, but it was more likely she was talking to herself and her thoughts merely coincident with his, which had often occurred when they were younger.
“I would have agreed; however, Lady Phoebe and Kilman are quite close.” He added, “But why would the ladies be traveling back south?”
“Hmmm… Could it be that the Network was misinformed…might the ladies be in fact heroines trying to return the stolen goods rather than the culprits of the theft?”
“Why would three unwed women involve themselves in such a scheme?” He shook his head and then scoffed, “How could they pull off what the Network failed to do?”
“Don’t underestimate what wallflowers and spinsters are capable of without the assistance of men.” Helen plucked a key from his hand and marched toward the stairs.
He’d done it again, managed to firmly plant his foot in his mouth. He should have known better than to parrot his father’s ideas. Wasn’t that one of the reasons he wanted to marry Helen? To break free the mold he’d been trapped in? He wanted to be more like Helen’s papa, except it was obvious he had a lot of growth to do before coming close.
Lengthening his stride, he caught up to Helen and said, “What do you think of the idea of rescuing Lord Kilman from the innkeeper first before we retire to our rooms?”
With her foot planted on the riser, she twisted to look back at him. “Hmmm. My impression of Lady Phoebe and Lord Kilman’s relationship varies from yours.”
“How so?”
“I wouldn’t classify the pair as close. From what I recall of their interactions over the years, I’d say they can barely tolerate one another.”
“Ahh…but you are not privy to what is shared at the club. I can assure you Kilman is not oblivious as he may appear. He’s simply afraid of…” He let his sentence hang since he was about to break a code of trust and share the same fear he too suffered from—the fear of rejection.
“What? What is Kilman afraid of?” Helen asked.
“Nothing. Trust me, if Kilman is indeed here with the intent of intercepting Lady Phoebe, he has information we need.” He stepped past her, grabbed her hand, and led her up the rest of the stairs. With her hand in his, he once again felt like he could conquer the world. Helen completed him in a way he never quite understood, but the feeling was undeniable. If only she felt the same about him.