Good. Second floor or not, the window would remain locked at all times. Same with the door.
She was sure the innkeeper—she knew he had given her his name, but her mind was so busy, she couldn’t remember it—was suspicious of her. He had noticed straightaway that she didn’t have a chaperone accompanying her. She shouldn’t be surprised.
When she’d left her home in the middle of the night in Rochester, the last thing she had thought about was what it would look like to someone. She was just happy to be out of the house.
Away fromhim.
Away from his hurtful words.
Away from his brutal punches.
Spreading her palms on her stomach, the surge of protection washing over her was almost overwhelming as she thought of the life growing within her. She sighed.
It was why she finally left. She could take her husband’s mistreatment. But the babe? No. She wouldn’t stand by while he beat her and harmed the baby. The babe was innocent. It didn’t deserve the same hate Victor showed to her. Once she’d found out she was pregnant, she had made up her mind to leave.
It was something she had been thinking about a lot in recent months, but the babe had forced her to move everything into motion. The minute she thought she may be with child, she began planning. She had already been hiding away a shillinghere. A shilling there. It was enough so she could run, but she didn’t have much left.
The journey here took most of her savings. Tomorrow she would approach the innkeeper and ask for employment.
Surely, he could use help. She had many skills. Cleaning, cooking, she even knew how to bookkeep. If he needed help in any of those areas, she could offer her services. Then she could secure permanent lodgings. Hopefully, she traveled far enough that Victor wouldn’t find her here.
Her belief was that he wouldn’t suspect that she would head north to Scotland. Her family was from southern England. Well, they were. They had passed on. But south was where all her friends were. Not that she could call them friends now. They surely weren’t. She hadn’t spoken to them since her marriage to Victor.
He had always said she was being selfish to give them attention that she should be giving to him. He was a very jealous man. After a few times of trying to reach out to her friends, and then bearing his wrath, she decided it was easier to let them go. Though it saddened her to do so.
Things were much calmer when she stayed home as he demanded and did what he ordered. At first, she thought it was just the way marriages went, even though she’d never seen her parents act in such a way, but they were older.
She knew better. She was much too smart for that. Plenty of married people around her were perfectly happy in their union. And the women that she knew were not beat by their husbands. Only Victor did that. Jocelyn realized early on that no matter howwell-behavedshe was, the beatings would still continue.
She saw everyone else in their happy marriages and longed for the same thing for herself.
Now that she was no longer under Victor’s heavy hand, it was as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She could breathe.
She was free.
Jocelyn sat on the bed and bounced up and down a couple of times on the soft mattress. This was one of the finer inns she’d stayed in on her travels. The bed was even nicer than the one she slept in at home.
Home.
She needed to stop referring to Rochester as home. It had never felt that way to her and she was happy to be gone from there.
A yawn overtook her. She was tired. So tired.
She could collapse right here and sleep for days.
A knock sounded, and she straightened, her nerves suddenly on edge.
“Miss Jocelyn. My laird asked me to put a plate together for ye. Said ye looked like ye could use a hearty meal.”
Approaching the door slowly, she put her ear against it. Listening for noises in the hall. Something that would alert her to the servant not being alone. But she heard naught.
“Miss?”
Thinking she was being overcautious, she sighed. The chances of Victor finding her here were low. She needed to stop thinking he would. Turning the key, she opened the door. A girl who looked no more than ten and six stood there with a full tray in her arms, a warm, welcoming smile on her face. “If ye dinna mind, I will set this on the table?”
Looking around the girl, Jocelyn noted that the hall was empty. She rolled her eyes. She really needed to stop thinking that Victor would appear around every corner.
“Of course, please come in.”
