Chapter Seven #2
Bella remembered Mr Clegg’s manner and winced. But why should she be intimidated by that foul little man and his noxious ear whiskers? "We shall eat in the dining room," she said with more confidence than she felt.
Clara looked at her and opened her mouth to protest, but clearly something in Bella’s expression stilled her tongue. "Yes, miss," she said, bobbing one of her lopsided curtseys before exiting the room.
***
The smaller dining room was an improvement on the bar, though only just. There were perhaps half a dozen tables scattered around the low-ceilinged room, most occupied by men paying more attention to their plates and tankards than the other occupants.
Bella guessed from their clothing and bearing that many were merchants.
Near the fire, an older woman in a high-quality but faded and slightly tatty gown sat quietly with a younger companion, while at another table a woman in a low-cut gown of vivid red was laughing loudly at something the men beside her had said.
She looked Bella over as they entered and gave her a distinctly unfriendly stare before turning back to her companions.
The air was still heavy with smoke, though not quite so thickly as in the rest of the inn, and a fire burned in the grate at the far end, giving off enough heat to make the room feel close and stuffy.
Clara guided her to a table against the wall and Bella sat, noticing with relief that she was both close to the door and had a clear view of the other diners.
No one would be able to approach without her notice.
Bella knew her maid was expected to leave her mistress to dine alone or take her own meal elsewhere.
The thought of sitting by herself in this room, however, was not one she relished.
"You will sit with me, Clara," she said before the girl could move away.
It was not strictly proper, but then very little about this journey had been so far, and Bella found she did not care.
Clara looked faintly surprised, then pleased, and dropped into the chair opposite as Bella smoothed her skirts beneath her and tried not to notice the grease marks on the table or the brownish stain on the napkin left folded beside her plate.
A young serving girl brought them bowls of mutton stew, a loaf of bread, butter and tea in a badly chipped teapot.
Bella eyed the food warily. The stew was very brown and oily and contained small chunks of meat that she was fairly sure she could not have identified as belonging to any particular animal without having been informed.
However, she had eaten little since breakfast and hunger soon overcame her better judgement.
The food was filling and tasty enough, if quite salty.
"This is rather good," she admitted.
Clara grinned at her over a great hunk of bread. "Told you we'd be alright here, miss. You were clutchin' that locket of yours downstairs like you expected the Lord Himself to come fetch you away."
Bella almost choked on her stew and gave Clara a reproachful look, though she could not entirely suppress a smile. "I was merely asking for a little divine assistance on our journey."
"Well, next time ask Him for clean sheets and a goose-feather mattress an' all."
Bella shook her head and turned her attention back to her bowl.
For all Clara's lack of deference and less than respectable work history, she crackled with energy and good humour.
It was hard to maintain a pique in her company and she found herself relaxing for the first time since they had arrived.
She had been foolish to allow Mr Clegg and his vile manners to unsettle her so.
The inn was disagreeable, but it was only one night.
In the morning they would be gone, and each mile would carry her further towards Cornwall and whatever awaited her there.
She became aware after a few minutes that a gentleman at a nearby table was looking in their direction.
Bella glanced away almost immediately, though not before taking in a dark coat and waistcoat, sandy hair brushed neatly back from his forehead and a face that was neither handsome nor plain.
He was better presented than most of the men around them, and when their eyes met again he gave a polite inclination of his head.
Bella returned it automatically before resuming her supper.
A short while later he rose from his table and approached them. "Forgive me for intruding," he said, his manner easy and pleasant, "but I could not help overhearing that you ladies are travelling south."
Bella looked towards Clara, who had stopped eating and was looking at Bella intently. She appeared to be trying to communicate something with an intricate waggle of her eyebrows, but she could not discern her maid’s meaning. "We are," Bella said carefully.
"I thought as much. I travel these roads often myself and know most of the coaching houses between here and Worcester.
You will want to take care which driver you engage in the morning.
There are fellows around Birmingham who will happily charge a young lady twice the proper fare if they think she does not know any better. "
Bella thought at once of Mr Clegg and the three shillings he had demanded for their miserable chamber. Perhaps this gentleman might actually prove useful after all. "That is useful to know. Thank you."
He smiled, encouraged by her answer, and asked where they were bound.
Bella had no intention of mentioning Falmouth to a stranger, and named Gloucester.
The gentleman nodded and began explaining that they would most likely travel through Worcester first before asking whether family awaited her there.
"My uncle," Bella said, and immediately regretted giving him another subject to pursue.
"And he permits you to travel without an escort?"
Bella felt her shoulders stiffen. "I am not without an escort. I have my maid. Urgent family business meant I had to travel ahead of my party."
His eyes flicked briefly towards Clara before returning to Bella, and something in his expression made her wish she had answered differently. He now knew for certain they were alone.
"Of course," he said. "Though I confess I am surprised your uncle would allow two young women to travel without an escort."
Bella did not much care for the word allow. "Our arrangements are quite satisfactory," she replied, returning her attention to her supper and hoping he might take this as a dismissal.
He did not. Without warning or invitation, he pulled his chair up to their table and began telling Bella that The Crown was not a suitable establishment for unprotected ladies.
On that point, she could scarcely disagree.
She was less grateful when he offered to escort them to another inn and still less when he suggested arranging a driver for them in the morning.
Bella declined both offers politely and then quite forcefully, but he seemed completely unaffected by either the tone or content of her dismissal.
Clara's foot nudged hers beneath the table, and Bella looked at her helplessly.
She was trying her best to deter the man, but she was unsure what else she could do short of causing a scene.
"I believe we have detained you long enough, sir," she said, forcing a polite smile.
"We should like to finish our supper in peace. "
"Nonsense, you have not detained me. We are all fellow travellers here.
" He reached for the bottle of wine from his own table and poured some into an unused glass before pushing it towards her forcefully, sloshing some of the dark liquid onto the table.
"At least allow me to offer you something better than that dreadful tea.
Over-steeped to the point of being undrinkable, I should think. "
"No, thank you." She slid the glass back towards him before wiping her hands on her napkin.
"Sir, I do not mean to be rude, but I must ask you to leave our company.
We are not known to you and as you say, we are two women travelling alone.
We must be abundantly cautious and it is not a proper time to meet new acquaintances. "
For the first time, his smile faltered. "There is no need to be difficult."
He sounded like a petulant toddler who had had his tin soldiers taken away.
Bella’s annoyance flared into anger. She detested being called difficult.
She had been called difficult when she had not wished to dance, when she had failed to smile prettily at a terrible and vaguely lewd joke and, on one blood-boiling occasion, when she had objected to a gentleman placing his hand rather too low on her back as he guided her through a doorway.
She pushed back her chair and rose quickly. "Clara, we are finished. Let us retire."
Bella had barely risen when the gentleman caught her wrist. For a moment she stared down at his hand, too astonished to react.
Nobody had ever presumed to touch her in such a fashion.
His grip was not painful, but it was firm enough to keep her beside the table, and when she looked back at him he wore a faintly indulgent smile, as though he was chastising a tiresome child.
"There is no need to make a scene," he said quietly, his voice ice cold now and faintly menacing. "Sit down."
Bella felt panic settle in the pit of her stomach. "Release me. Release me this moment." The words escaped as a hiss.
Clara rose so quickly that her chair scraped noisily across the floor and several heads turned towards them. "My mistress said let go, didn't she? Best do as you're told."
The gentleman barely looked at her. "Mind your place."
Clara's face changed. The easy grin Bella had come to expect disappeared, and when she spoke again her voice was loud enough to carry well beyond their little table. "I know my place well enough. It's right here tellin' you to take your hand off her."