“My wife does do an excellent bit of roast pork and crackling, if I do say so myself. If you fine people would like to get yourselves set in your room upstairs, I shall see to getting you some food. I take it you would like roast potatoes and buttered bread with your supper.”
James and Leah looked at one another.
“Yes, please.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
“Are you sure I cannot tempt you with the last piece of roasted potato?”
Leah waved her hand at James. She was so full, from all the wonderful food that she half expected to roll off the bed as soon as she lay down. “Thank you, James, but I am struggling to breathe as it is. I do love a good roast.”
The room at the George was fortunately larger than the one they had stayed in at Salisbury, but that didn’t take much. James was able to open his travel trunk properly and while the innkeeper was unable to provide a full bath, a bowl of hot water allowed him to shave and clean up.
Leah was happy to also avail herself of clean water and a strip wash while James was downstairs seeing to their horse and making preparations for their onward journey in the morning. Unlike James, however, she didn’t have a full bag of possessions from which she could draw. A simple linen nightgown and three plain day gowns were the sum total of her wardrobe. All her beautiful gowns, coats, and shoes remained in London, still packed and ready for the move to what would have been her new home with Guy. What her mother would now do with all the possessions Leah had left behind, she dreaded to think.
I don’t expect I shall see any of my nice things ever again.
The new gowns were likely to not fit her by the time she returned to London anyway. At the rate James was feeding her, she would soon be back to her old size. Her day gowns currently hung limply from her frame, but a few more days of stews and roasts, and her familiar curves would begin to return. While her cheeks were still sunken, she already felt less haggard than she had in weeks.
The innkeeper’s wife had brought them up their supper after they had both washed away the dust and grime of the past two days of travel. Leah had changed into one of her clean gowns and was now seated across from James at a table under the window in their room.
“I was certain I could have eaten the whole pig when my nose first caught the delicious smell of the roast, but like you, I shall have to concede defeat. I blame the three roast potatoes for my downfall,” replied James.
“You ate four potatoes,” she said, before teasing him with a smile.
For the first time since she had left London, Leah felt the tension ease in her shoulders. Her heart was beating at a steady rate. It could have been that her body was too busy trying to digest all that wonderful food to remain in its previous near constant state of fear, but she had found herself beginning to relax long before they reached the inn.
James may have been Guy’s best friend, but they were quite unlike one another in their nature. Where Guy was all for grand gestures and carefully measured words, it was the little spontaneous touches that gave James his power. A brief brush of his hand here, a kind word spoken there. They all added up to frame the picture of him she was slowly painting in her mind.
She watched as he finished the last of his ale then slumped back in his chair, hands resting on his full stomach. He looked for all the world like a young version of John Bull. And she imagined that if they kept eating such enormous suppers, he would eventually resemble the famous character.
Leah put a hand over her mouth and tried to stifle a mischievous laugh.
“What?” he asked.
“You need a waistcoat if you are going to be John Bull,” she chortled.
His gaze settled on his rounded stomach and he chuckled. “I won’t need to eat for days; and I expect to be asleep within the hour.”
On the road, they had shared an afternoon of talking about almost everything as they sat side by side up on top of the carriage. The only topic of conversation which Leah did not want to discuss further was James’s aborted trip to Derbyshire. Guilt sat uneasy in her mind over his selfless act.
Something else sat in the forefront of her mind and this topic was something which could not be avoided. Her grandfather. The question of exactly what they would say to him when they eventually reached Mopus Manor had to be addressed.
“My grandfather is a good man, a kindly man,” she ventured.
James’s gaze lifted to meet hers. He nodded. “I was wondering when we would get to the matter of Sir Geoffrey. I expect he will have one or two questions when he finds us on his doorstep at the end of the week.”
Us. She had been pondering that same word for most of the afternoon. They weren’t anus, or awe;they were travelling companions which made them . . . Leah couldn’t quite think of a suitable word to describe the connection between her and James. It was the bones of a friendship at the moment, but it was changing by the hour.
What she didn’t want was for whatever they were to be something of a millstone around their necks. James had done more than enough already to assist her; he had made sacrifices which she suspected would cost him dearly.
James should not be the one standing in front of her grandfather having to explain matters when the time came. She had made the decision to run away, not him. The weight of that choice should rest on her shoulders alone. “I was thinking that perhaps you and I could part before we reach my grandfather’s house,” she said.
It made sense for her to be arriving alone at Mopus Manor. She would already be a disgrace in the eyes of her family; why should James have to bear part or all of the blame for her actions?
The frown lines which immediately appeared on his face were accompanied by a loud huff of displeasure, and a loudly snapped, “No.”
“If you would just listen,” she implored.
