“Nothing, nothing at all,” the innkeeper said, twisting his hands together.
“Nothing!” the lord said. He hurried to the duke. “My lord, this inn is only in possession of one private dining room, and this deranged innkeeper suggests I remain out here, to dine with the hoi polloi. If you can imagine such an outrage.”
“It’s Your Grace,” the duke said. “Duke of Pelham.”
The lord looked very much put on the back foot. “I see!” He looked toward the innkeeper and said accusingly, “I had not known. Nobody mentioned you were a duke, my apologies.” He bowed. “Your Grace, allow me to introduce myself. Earl of Landry, at your service.”
“Yes, yes, well as you seem to be having some sort of mental collapse over the idea of dining in view of the hoi polloi, as you term it, you’d best come in.”
“You are everything gracious, Your Grace. Your condescension will live in my thoughts forevermore!”
“No need to get hysterical over it,” the duke said drily.
They proceeded into the dining room with the previously unknown gentleman, now known as the Earl of Landry. Earl or not, Mrs. Right looked suspiciously at him and directed Winsome and Valor to the other side of the table. The Earl would be safely tucked between the duke and Mrs. Right.
The waiters brought wine around, and lemonade for Valor. “Well, Landry, you might as well be introduced to the last of this brood of mine. That’s Lady Winsome, and my youngest, Lady Valor. And this is Mrs. Right. There’s five of them not here, as I’ve launched them out of the house, one after the next.”
“Ladies. An honor,” Lord Landry said, looking wide-eyed to hear of daughters launched out of a house.
Valor eyed the earl. “Are you always so nervous?” she asked. “About the hoi polloi watching you eat?”
Now the earl appeared even more startled, which did not surprise Winsome. Valor generally was startling. “Well I simply could not countenance dining in such close quarters with them,” he said. “There seemed to be some rough fellows hanging about.”
“Do you suppose any of them are murderers?” Valor asked.
Lord Landry set down his wine with a shaking hand. “I hadn’t done. Doyouthink any of them are murderers?”
“Possibly,” Valor said matter-of-factly. “Because you never do know, do you?”
Winsome nodded. “A murderer would not wear a sign, would he? He will do everything to make it seem as if he’s not a murderer. The more innocent he looks, the higher the chance he’s up to no good.”
Lord Landry paled just a bit. “Gad, I hadn’t thought, but that could be right. A wolf in sheep’s clothing, as it were. And then, at an inn where everybody is so transient? Would that not be the perfect place to be a murderer? Why had that never occurred to me?”
Valor nodded gravely. “I’m going to sleep next to my dog somurderers cannot get me.” She peered down at Sir Galahad on her lap. The little pug yawned in response to being named the sole member of her personal guard.
“I will be alone,” Lord Landry said softly. “Why didn’t I bring one of my dogs?”
Winsome felt as if none of them would get much sleep this night, now that murderers had been speculated on. It really was true, there might be one just outside the dining room doors and how would they know it? She had often thought that murderers were masters at hiding their true nature, else how would they get close enough to anybody to murder them?
As for rogues, they were even more plentiful. In all likelihood, there were several in the vicinity, mulling over their devious plans.
Only the duke appeared unaffected by the idea of murderers lurking nearby. He laughed and said, “Perhaps enough macabre talk for one evening. Landry, I suppose you are aware that it is Captain James Cook Day?”
“No, I had not known,” Lord Landry said. “Captain James Cook Day. Is it widely celebrated?”
Winsome bit her lip. Any hope that the duke would skip the Captain Cook Day gambit had gone up in smoke.
“Captain Cook was a Yorkshire man, so we take it very seriously up there,” the duke said.
“Yes, I imagine you would,” Lord Landry said.
“Courageous fellow, must be honored,” the duke said.
Valor was snorting to herself. Then she shouted, “Wait until nine o’clock, you’ll see!”
“See? What will I see?” Lord Landry asked, concern drifting over his features.
“Never mind it, Lord Landry,” Mrs. Right said.
