Page 11 of Bella Darcy is on the Run

"Well, next time ask Him for clean sheets and a goose-feather mattress an' all."

Bella shook her head and turned her attention back to her bowl. For all Clara's lack of deference and less than respectable work history, she crackled with energy and good humour. It was hard to maintain a pique in her company and she found herself relaxing for the first time since they had arrived. She had been foolish to allow Mr Clegg and his vile manners to unsettle her so. The inn was disagreeable, but it was only one night. In the morning they would be gone, and each mile would carry her further towards Cornwall and whatever awaited her there.

She became aware after a few minutes that a gentleman at a nearby table was looking in their direction. Bella glanced away almost immediately, though not before taking in a dark coat and waistcoat, sandy hair brushed neatly back from his forehead and a face that was neither handsome nor plain. He was better presented than most of the men around them, and when their eyes met again he gave a polite inclination of his head. Bella returned it automatically before resuming her supper.

A short while later he rose from his table and approached them. "Forgive me for intruding," he said, his manner easy and pleasant, "but I could not help overhearing that you ladies are travelling south."

Bella looked towards Clara, who had stopped eating and was looking at Bella intently. She appeared to be trying to communicate something with an intricate waggle of her eyebrows, but she could not discern her maid’s meaning. "We are," Bella said carefully.

"I thought as much. I travel these roads often myself and know most of the coaching houses between here and Worcester. You will want to take care which driver you engage in the morning. There are fellows around Birmingham who will happily charge a young lady twice the proper fare if they think she does not know any better."

Bella thought at once of Mr Clegg and the three shillings he had demanded for their miserable chamber. Perhaps this gentleman might actually prove useful after all. "That is useful to know. Thank you."

He smiled, encouraged by her answer, and asked where they were bound. Bella had no intention of mentioning Falmouth to a stranger, and named Gloucester. The gentleman nodded and began explaining that they would most likely travel through Worcester first before asking whether family awaited her there.

"My uncle," Bella said, and immediately regretted giving him another subject to pursue.

"And he permits you to travel without an escort?"

Bella felt her shoulders stiffen. "I am not without an escort. I have my maid. Urgent family business meant I had to travel ahead of my party."

His eyes flicked briefly towards Clara before returning to Bella, and something in his expression made her wish she had answered differently. He now knew for certain they were alone.

"Of course," he said. "Though I confess I am surprised your uncle would allow two young women to travel without an escort."

Bella did not much care for the word allow. "Our arrangements are quite satisfactory," she replied, returning her attention to her supper and hoping he might take this as a dismissal.

He did not. Without warning or invitation, he pulled his chair up to their table and began telling Bella that The Crown was not a suitable establishment for unprotected ladies. On that point, she could scarcely disagree. She was less grateful when he offered to escort them to another inn and still less when he suggested arranging a driver for them in the morning. Bella declined both offers politely and then quite forcefully, but he seemed completely unaffected by either the tone or content of her dismissal.

Clara's foot nudged hers beneath the table, and Bella looked at her helplessly. She was trying her best to deter the man, but she was unsure what else she could do short of causing a scene. "I believe we have detained you long enough, sir," she said, forcing a polite smile. "We should like to finish our supper in peace."

"Nonsense, you have not detained me. We are all fellow travellers here." He reached for the bottle of wine from his own table and poured some into an unused glass before pushing it towards her forcefully, sloshing some of the dark liquid onto the table. "At least allow me to offer you something better than that dreadful tea. Over-steeped to the point of being undrinkable, I should think."

"No, thank you." She slid the glass back towards him before wiping her hands on her napkin. "Sir, I do not mean to be rude, but I must ask you to leave our company. We are not known to you and as you say, we are two women travelling alone. We must be abundantly cautious and it is not a proper time to meet new acquaintances."

For the first time, his smile faltered. "There is no need to be difficult."

He sounded like a petulant toddler who had had his tin soldiers taken away. Bella’s annoyance flared into anger. She detested being called difficult. She had been called difficult when she had not wished to dance, when she had failed to smile prettily at a terrible and vaguely lewd joke and, on one blood-boiling occasion, when she had objected to a gentleman placing his hand rather too low on her back as he guided her through a doorway.

She pushed back her chair and rose quickly. "Clara, we are finished. Let us retire."

Bella had barely risen when the gentleman caught her wrist. For a moment she stared down at his hand, too astonished to react. Nobody had ever presumed to touch her in such a fashion. His grip was not painful, but it was firm enough to keep her beside the table, and when she looked back at him he wore a faintly indulgent smile, as though he was chastising a tiresome child.

"There is no need to make a scene," he said quietly, his voice ice cold now and faintly menacing. "Sit down."

Bella felt panic settle in the pit of her stomach. "Release me. Release me this moment." The words escaped as a hiss.

Clara rose so quickly that her chair scraped noisily across the floor and several heads turned towards them. "My mistress said let go, didn't she? Best do as you're told."

The gentleman barely looked at her. "Mind your place."

Clara's face changed. The easy grin Bella had come to expect disappeared, and when she spoke again her voice was loud enough to carry well beyond their little table. "I know my place well enough. It's right here tellin' you to take your hand off her."

Conversation nearby began to falter. Bella saw several heads turn, but the gentleman's fingers remained firmly around her wrist and he did not so much as acknowledge that Clara had spoken. His attention was fixed hungrily on Bella, and she was close enough to smell the sour alcohol on his breath.

Clara gave a small sigh. "Right then."

Before Bella had any notion of what she intended, Clara reached across the table, caught hold of the gentleman's smallest finger and bent it sharply backwards. He gave an undignified yelp and released Bella at once, his whole body twisting towards Clara as he attempted to retrieve his hand. She twisted it more firmly and addressed him sharply. "It ain’t very gentlemanly, puttin’ your hands on a lady."