Chapter 22
They arrived in Dover at nightfall. The inn was small and looked far more rickety than Clara had expected. It was not exactly in a respectable part of town either, made plain by the women of ill repute who wandered the streets with no shame whatsoever.
They decided to have Nell and the children remain in the carriage, guarded by the two coachmen, rather than bring the children into this establishment.
As they approached the Fox and Hare, Marianne hurried forward. “I do beg your pardon. I ought to have told you more about the nature of this place.”
“I reckon you ought,” Julian replied. “Is it quite safe to stay here?”
“Oh yes,” Marianne said. “I will speak to Frederick, the innkeeper. He will make sure we have the best rooms, and they all have two locks on the doors.”
Clara blinked. She was not entirely sure that the fact the chambers required two locks made her feel any better.
But it was too late now. They followed Marianne inside, and she was instantly greeted by a number of the staff.
People carrying trays stopped to welcome her and the woman beamed.
This had been her world, Clara realized.
She had left here for London because she had been forced to, and now, Clara stopped and turned to Julian.
“What if the father of her child is still here? Have we put her in danger by bringing her back?”
Julian paused. “Do not fret. I shall manage him, should he appear.”
“She would not have refused. We are her employers. We promised to secure her future. She is hardly in a position to say no to us.”
They looked at one another, and she saw that he felt as guilty as she did.
They did not have a chance to say more, however, because Marianne had already crossed to the bar and approached the man standing behind it. He was a short, stout fellow with gray-ginger hair and a ginger beard to match.
“Frederick,” she said, “pray, could you give us the blue and purple rooms?”
He blinked. “Marianne? Is that you?” He beamed and hurried around the bar then swept her up in a great bear hug and spun her around.
Clara took a step back to avoid being struck by Marianne’s legs and walked straight into Julian, who placed both hands on her arms to steady her.
The feeling was instantaneous. Warm and sure.
She turned back, and he smiled at her in a manner that was almost shy.
“You’ve been a stranger, haven’t you, lass?” Frederick said in a scolding yet affectionate tone. “Have you been well? How’s our Molly?”
“Molly is very well. She is out in the carriage with a friend. In fact, I am here with friends,” she said without hesitation. “We are only staying the night. Would you have room for us?”
“For you? Of course!”
She smiled at him in a way that made it clear they knew one another very well.
“I thank you. But before you give us the rooms, I have a reason for being here.”
“I thought so,” he smiled, not once taking his eyes off her.
“Before I left, Miss Arabella was staying here. This is her cousin,” she said, gesturing to Julian, “Julian.”
Julian frowned slightly at the casual form of address, but Clara elbowed him before he could speak.
“Julian, eh?” Frederick shook his hand and nodded. “Nice to meet you, Julian. Miss Arabella was a real treasure. We were all very sorry when she was whisked off to the continent.”
“Have you heard anything from her since?” Julian asked. “She returned to England recently, and I wondered if perhaps she stopped here.”
“Indeed, she did. With her little one and her husband.”
Clara’s heart leaped. “Her husband?”
“Well, yes,” the older man said. He glanced at Clara. “And who might you be?”
“I am her friend, Clara,” she said quickly. “Julian’s wife.”
“Well, Julian’s wife and Arabella’s friend, because you are a pretty lass, I’ll tell ya. Miss Arabella was here with her baby and her Italian husband. Spoke with a very thick accent.”
“She came here with Bash?” Clara asked, but the man drew his bushy eyebrows together.
“Bash? I think not. No, the man she was with was Italian through and through. Barely understood a word he said.”
She and Julian looked at one another.
“Are you certain?” Marianne asked. “It was not a tall, ginger-haired man?”
Frederick let out a deep laugh. “If it were a ginger-haired man I would most certainly remember. There are not so many of us, and I make a point of striking up conversation with any I meet, in case we are distantly related. No, this one was most certainly Italian. Giancarlo something or other.”
“Giacomo?” Clara offered.
The man nodded. “Yes, indeed. That sounds right.”
Marianne looked at them both and nodded slowly. “I see. Did they stay very long?”
“Just the one night, and then they were off to London. To do this and that.” Frederick laughed then turned back to Marianne and placed a hand on her arm. “Marianne, you must come down later and have an ale with me and tell me how you are getting on.”
“Gladly,” she replied, “but first we must get my friends settled. As well as their child and mine. And another room for the m… friend.”
“Of course.” He turned and surveyed Julian and Clara. “I am afraid I do not have the blue room available. Only the purple. It is the nicest. Then I have a courtyard-facing room for the friend.”
Julian still had one hand resting on the small of Clara’s back, had done since he’d steadied her, and had not removed it. It was not the way one touched someone with whom they were not intimately familiar.
“What about Marianne and Molly?” Clara asked quickly. “We are married, yes, but if there is no room for her—”
“I have a room for Marianne and Molly, do not you worry. I always take care of my girl.”
“Do not fret,” Marianne added with a smile. “Frederick will see me right.”
Clara wondered precisely what that meant, but she had no time to examine the thought further as a set of keys was produced and a young lad flagged down to take them up to their chamber. Marianne went outside to fetch Nell and the children.
Once the door was closed behind them, Clara turned to Julian. “Giacomo. That is the name of the servant we already deduced. Do you suppose she has married him?”
Julian shook his head. “No. If he helped her escape, he is likely staying close to protect her, and to do that without drawing attention, they would have had to pass themselves off as husband and wife, much as we did.”
“I imagine so,” she replied.
“As to what we do now… tomorrow, I will speak to Frederick again and get the exact date of their arrival. Then we will go down to the docks and speak to someone there about which ship they came in on. We’ll look at the passenger list and see if any name stands out, anyone we might be able to ask.
Perhaps someone from the ship is still working at the docks and remembers something.
” He paused. “I should also speak to Frederick in more detail. He was too excited to see Marianne this evening for us to get very much out of him.”
“That is true. He does seem very fond of her.” Clara sat on the edge of the bed. “I wonder what the story is there.”
“As do I.” He crossed to the window. “Why do you suppose she did not mention our titles?”
“This is not the sort of inn where people of quality tend to stay. I imagine there may be some resentment towards people like us. I have heard people speak of the ton in rather displaced terms.”
“As have I. And frankly, not always without cause. There are a great many of our class who look down upon these people. I will not exempt myself from that. I have been guilty of it myself.”
“As have I, even when I did not mean to.”
They sat for a little while in silence, and then he surveyed the room. His eyes settled on the narrow chaise in the corner.
“Well,” he said, “it is fortunate there is a chaise. I will not have to sleep on the floor again.”
“I can take the chaise,” she offered.
He laughed. “What sort of man do you take me for? You will not be taking the chaise. You will sleep in the bed and I—”
A knock came at the door. He opened it. Marianne stood there with one child on each arm. Clara took David from her, and the little boy yawned.
“He wanted to say goodnight. I thought it might be better if he stays with me tonight. That way, I do not have to disturb you when it is time for him to eat.”
“I think that would be best.”
“Very well. We are staying one floor above in a chamber for Frederick’s friends and family.”
“I see,” Clara said.
Marianne smiled. “You thought I was staying with him. You really do think me a loose woman.”
“I did not think that at all.”
“It is quite all right if you did. After all, I do have a child with a married man.” She said it without self-pity and without apology, and Clara found herself thinking back to the conversation she and Julian had had in the carriage earlier.
“Will it be all right for you to be here?” she asked carefully. “I mean Molly’s father…
Marianne shrugged. “I doubt very much that he still cares to find me. He was a passing merchant. What are the chances he would be here? Very small.” She paused. “In any case, I am glad we were able to find out something about Arabella.”
“Julian intends to speak to Frederick again in the morning,” Clara said.
“That is very sensible. At this hour, Frederick is generally well into his cups, but I think if there was anything truly important he would have told us.”
Clara and Julian bade David a good night, not that he took much notice of it as his eyes were mostly closed already. Clara handed him off to Marianne who dipped her head. “Good night, My Lady. Your Grace.”
“I shall get ready for bed,” Clara said and stepped behind the screen to change.
She did not feel the same awkwardness she had felt the first time she and Julian had been forced to share a chamber together. And that, she thought, was almost as concerning as the awkwardness itself had been.