“No luggage, neither—don’t think I didn’t notice,” Mildred sniped from behind him.
“No, sir,” Lily answered honestly. “I wouldn’t dream of waking him.”
“Not that you showed the same consideration tous,” Mildred grumbled, crossing her thick arms.
Lily focused on the man, as he was far friendlier. “I was hoping to rent a room and meet him in the morning, as we’d planned.”
“You want to rent a room?” Mildred jutted her head, her beady eyes taking Beatrice’s measure again. “And who will be joining you in said room?”
Lily was so offended at the implication that she took a half-step back, her eyes wide.
Mildred turned to her husband. “Mark my words, if you rent to her, that bell will be ringing every half hour?—”
“Stop, Mildred,” he fairly bellowed.
Mildred’s mouth pinched with shock; her eyes bugged at her husband.
“There’s no one else,” Lily hurried to say. “And I can pay. I…I lost my luggage, you see. It’s been a very difficult journey.”
Lily’s chin started to wobble. Heaven help her, she was sotired. And all this time she’d believed that if she could just make it here, to the Cask and Crowne, that everything would be all right, that her trial would be concluded. But the thought that they might not let her in, that she might have to take refuge in a doorway until sunrise—it was nearly too much to bear.
“Miss Hughes?” an accented voice said from behind the couple. “Miss Sarah Hughes?”
The innkeepers turned, revealing a tall, slender man with deep golden-brown skin standing behind them. He wore a burgundy dressing gown, richly embroidered in gold threading, with matching slippers. His dark eyebrow was winged in question.
“Yes,” Lily croaked. “I am Miss Sarah Hughes.”
The man smiled gently and pressed a hand to his chest, giving a little bow. “And I am Abeer. Your brother sent me. Come in, my dear. You are very welcome here.”
“That hasn’t been decided yet,” Mildred snapped.
“Mrs. Cross,” Abeer said, frowning deeply at the innkeeper. “Do you have any idea who is standing on your doorstep? Apparently not, or you wouldn’t keep the sister of the wealthiest man in England waiting out in the cold. Do come in, my lady,” he added, nodding toward Lily.
Mildred half choked and ducked behind her husband.
Lily felt lightheaded with relief when she crossed the threshold and was enveloped in warmth. The room was a long rectangle filled with circular tables, each ringed with wooden chairs. Coals still glowed from behind a tightly latticed fire screen.
“I will wake her ladyship’s maid. Please arrange your finest room, a bath and a meal,” Abeer said to the innkeepers, even as he gestured Lily toward the nearest chair.
“Good mercy, Henry!” Mildred squawked. “Don’t just stand there—do as the man says!”
“Heaven save me from your continued good health,” her husband grumbled beneath his breath.
“What did you say?” she snapped.
“Nothing, Mildred.”
She followed at his heels through a door to the side of the great room. “Stop mumbling and heat the water for her ladyship’s bath!”
“Miss Hughes,” Abeer murmured once they were gone. “I am so very pleased to meet you.”
“My name isn’t really?—”
He glanced sharply toward the far door. “Your brother requested that we use your convenient moniker for the time being. Until we get out of Northumberland, at the very least.”
She nodded numbly and did her best not to cry from sheer relief and exhaustion. She was truly here. She had made it.
For a few moments, there was only the distant clanking of pots in the kitchen and a low crackling from the fireplace. Then Abeer said, “Forgive me, my lady, but I had expected you in the morning. Is everything all right?”
