Page 10 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

His smile broadened. "Pretty young lady travelling without a husband or father ought to find plenty of gentlemen willing to take her wherever she wants to go."

Bella frowned. "I do not require a gentleman. I require a post-chaise."

Beside her, Clara made a small choking sound. Bella turned towards her, but Clara had suddenly become very interested in examining the counter.

It took Bella another moment to understand, and when she did, heat rushed into her cheeks. "Your meaning is quite improper."

"Only havin' a bit of fun, miss."

"I do not find you amusing in the slightest."

Clara caught her lightly by the sleeve before she could say anything more. "We've got the room, miss. Best we get settled, and I'll see about some supper."

"Payment first," he said as they turned away. And Bella was certain he was enjoying being quite so disagreeable.

Bella stopped and looked back at him. "I assure you, sir, I am quite able to pay you in full."

"Now," he said, his stare turning flinty. "I don't know you two from Adam. Who knows what mischief you're up to? Very unusual, a young lady gaddin' about unaccompanied."

Bella wanted very badly to tell Mr Clegg exactly what she thought of him, but there was something unusually firm in Clara's expression. She settled instead for fixing him with her coldest stare and placing the requisite coins on the bar before allowing herself to be steered towards the stairs.

"You had already spoken to that man?" she whispered as they began to climb.

"I ‘ave, miss."

"And you still took the room?"

Clara glanced back at her. "It's near dark, miss. He's unpleasant to be sure, but not any real danger. Anyway, it’s only for the night and we will be gone in a few hours. Come on quickly now, our luggage should already be in the room and I will ensure you are settled."

Bella thought she should never be able to be truly settled in such an establishment, but she obediently followed along after Clara, who hurried up a dark staircase and along an even darker corridor before opening a door into a small chamber at the rear of the inn. Bella stopped on the threshold.

There were two narrow beds pushed against opposite walls, both covered with faded counterpanes of an indeterminate brownish colour. A washstand stood beneath the window with a chipped basin and ewer, while a single wooden chair occupied the space beside a little grate in which a small fire glowed weakly. The room smelt strongly of damp, smoke and something musky Bella could not quite identify and had no wish to investigate. The window overlooked the stable yard, although so much grime had collected on the glass that the lamps now lit below appeared as blurred patches of yellow light.

Clara immediately began to unpack Bella’s small valise and arrange her things on the washstand, and Bella felt awkward and in the way. She sat gingerly on the bed and winced at the thinness of the mattress. She could feel the frame through it clearly and wondered how she would ever get any rest.

"Would you be liking me to request a tray for supper, miss?" said Clara over her shoulder as she worked.

Bella looked around her. She had no desire to remain confined to this depressing little room, though the thought of eating downstairs did not fill her with much enthusiasm either. "Is there a private dining room?" she asked with more hope than expectation.

Clara looked at her. "There is a smaller dining room, though not private. But I recommend we eat up here, miss. I cannot guarantee the quality of the company."

Bella remembered Mr Clegg’s manner and winced. But why should she be intimidated by that foul little man and his noxious ear whiskers? "We shall eat in the dining room," she said with more confidence than she felt.

Clara looked at her and opened her mouth to protest, but clearly something in Bella’s expression stilled her tongue. "Yes, miss," she said, bobbing one of her lopsided curtseys before exiting the room.

***

The smaller dining room was an improvement on the bar, though only just. There were perhaps half a dozen tables scattered around the low-ceilinged room, most occupied by men paying more attention to their plates and tankards than the other occupants. Bella guessed from their clothing and bearing that many were merchants. Near the fire, an older woman in a high-quality but faded and slightly tatty gown sat quietly with a younger companion, while at another table a woman in a low-cut gown of vivid red was laughing loudly at something the men beside her had said. She looked Bella over as they entered and gave her a distinctly unfriendly stare before turning back to her companions. The air was still heavy with smoke, though not quite so thickly as in the rest of the inn, and a fire burned in the grate at the far end, giving off enough heat to make the room feel close and stuffy.

Clara guided her to a table against the wall and Bella sat, noticing with relief that she was both close to the door and had a clear view of the other diners. No one would be able to approach without her notice. Bella knew her maid was expected to leave her mistress to dine alone or take her own meal elsewhere. The thought of sitting by herself in this room, however, was not one she relished. "You will sit with me, Clara," she said before the girl could move away. It was not strictly proper, but then very little about this journey had been so far, and Bella found she did not care. Clara looked faintly surprised, then pleased, and dropped into the chair opposite as Bella smoothed her skirts beneath her and tried not to notice the grease marks on the table or the brownish stain on the napkin left folded beside her plate.

A young serving girl brought them bowls of mutton stew, a loaf of bread, butter and tea in a badly chipped teapot. Bella eyed the food warily. The stew was very brown and oily and contained small chunks of meat that she was fairly sure she could not have identified as belonging to any particular animal without having been informed. However, she had eaten little since breakfast and hunger soon overcame her better judgement. The food was filling and tasty enough, if quite salty.

"This is rather good," she admitted.

Clara grinned at her over a great hunk of bread. "Told you we'd be alright here, miss. You were clutchin' that locket of yours downstairs like you expected the Lord Himself to come fetch you away."

Bella almost choked on her stew and gave Clara a reproachful look, though she could not entirely suppress a smile. "I was merely asking for a little divine assistance on our journey."