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As she brought the fish to the table and bent to lay it down, Hannah appeared at the foot of the stairs, signaling Lucy to come. Lucy nodded to Hannah and took her eye off the flashy gentleman. At the touch of his hand to her bottom, she jerked. Her platter tilted, and the pike slid from its nest of greens into the lap of the clergyman’s wife.

There was an awful pause. Then the lady shrieked and jumped to her feet, dumping the fish to the floor, where it cast an accusing eye up at Lucy.

“You clumsy girl. You’ve ruined my gown.” The woman held up her skirt with the wide wet imprint of the pike, like a dark grin pasted across her lap.

“I beg your pardon.”

“You may be sure I’ll report this episode to the coach company. I will be compensated.”

Lucy drew herself up. “How much do you require?”

The guard entered and called for the passengers. The others stopped eating and began to gather cloaks and bundles, but the clergyman’s wife dabbed at her ruined gown with a napkin.

“My dear,” said the clergyman. “Come....”

“George, be quiet. I will be compensated for my gown before I take a step toward that stage.”

“But the stage will go on without us. You won’t want to stay the night in this inn.”

“Certainly not.”

The bench sitters began to murmur. “B’aint the thing to let Mrs. Vell go.”

“Nothin’ good can come of such a change.”

Lucy retrieved her cash box and drew out a stack of Bank of England notes. The bench sitters hushed. There wasn’t a person in the room who did not respect those notes. “How much?”

The woman’s eyes narrowed. “Six pounds.”

A low whistle came from the benches.

Lucy produced the notes without a blink. “Sign this receipt.” She offered the woman a pen and paper, and the woman signed with a flourish.

“Don’t think you’ve heard the end of this, girl.” She swept out of the common room with her husband trailing after her.

Lucy stared at the pike. She had thought it would be easy to take charge. She felt the bench sitters watching, and judging. She could hear the continued murmur of commentary. She drew a steadying breath. First things first. The pike.

Queenie, the opportunist, padded over on silent feet, crouched down, and began to lick the pike’s imprint from the floor. Lucy shooed the cat away and knelt on the flagstones with the empty platter. She slid a pair of serving spoons under the fish to lift it. The malevolent pike promptly broke into three pieces. She emptied the spoons full of broken fish onto the platter and started again while Queenie mewed and circled around behind her. An inconvenient ache made itself known low in Lucy’s back. She resisted the urge to press her fish-coated hand against the place.

“Trouble, Miss Holbrook?” said a familiar voice.

“Nothing I can’t handle, Captain Clare,” she said without looking up.

His hand gripped her arm and lifted her from the floor. “Blodget, get your mistress some help,” he ordered, his voice quiet but commanding.

“You...” she said, trying to frame some resistance to his interfering ways.

“I know. I’m giving orders again, and I will until you start giving some yourself.”

He led her to Adam’s bench, sat her down, and stood over her while Frank and Hannah dealt with the fish.

“Sorry about yer fish, miss,” Hannah said as she passed with the pike’s remains on her way to the kitchen. “It’s all that gentleman’s fault, too. He skipped, miss. That’s wot I was trying to tell ye. I’m sorry.”

“Not your fault, Hannah,” Lucy replied. “Save some fish for Queenie.”

She looked up at Harry Clare. “Satisfied?”

“It’s a start.”