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If that wasn’t bad enough, she was also quite sure the entire undertaking was more than a bit touched with mortal danger.
That her brother could have asked her to do this for him, only displayed his unclear focus and desperation.
She had always thought herself a bright and modern woman, ready to do her part to promote change—political change. This undertaking was quite beneath those ideals.
If all that wasn’t enough, she admitted that she was scared out of her mind about what she was going to do.
Earlier, when she had completed her disguise, she had taken a quick look in the long mirror. She thought that she very well could pass for a lad of fourteen or so. Now, she wasn’t so sure.
She had, however, quite made up her mind that no one would believe she was Vern, as he had told her to pretend she was him. Thus, she created a fictional male relative and meant to play the part. She would say her cousin Vern had sent her with a message and that was all she knew, nothing more and she would escape as fast as she could.
That, she had decided, might work.
Star pulled the wool cap low over her eyes and adjusted the hood of her cloak like a shroud over her head, cap and all, before she had taken to horse. No chance acquaintance of Vern’s must recognize her as she rode the open road at night. She could only pray that no one would be about and on the open road.
She had searched her mind for an alternative solution, but as mad as this undertaking appeared to be, it also appeared to be the only immediate solution.
Vern believed he was in danger. He said that this man Farley would kill him if he walked into an unexpected situation. He had said he gave Farley misinformation and had to set it right. How had he gotten mixed up with such a nefarious crew?
She knew the stories about the criminal elements that hovered in Romney Marsh. There simply was nothing for it. She had to do this for Vern.
Thus, here she was, with Rye spread out before her.
Drizzle soaked her face and she could feel the weight of her wet cloak on her shoulders. “What in all that is sane, am I actually doing?” She patted her horse’s neck and asked, “Do you know the answer to that? For I do not.”
Even for her, this was rash. She had always been impulsive and independent, but this, this was so wicked.
So many things could go wrong at the night’s end. She had never done anything so reckless and while she enjoyed breaking the rules, like riding astride in breeches, this was quite gravely out of her domain. This wasn’t breaking the rules. This was shattering them beyond repair.
However, she wasn’t doing this for fun. No, indeed. She was not at all enjoying herself. She had to get this done for her brother, who she should, yet couldn’t blame, not entirely. She had adored her father, but had not been blind to his faults. Gaming for one. Indeed he had needed no other for that one single fault had nearly cost them all and now after his death, threatened them still.
Poor Vern. What a burden her father had left him. How could Vern set things right when their hole was so deep and they hadn’t a rope to hold onto? How could Vern take an estate that had been borrowed against for years, an estate with accumulated interest to repay and set everything in order? It had made her brother desperate and of course, desperation clouded his vision. She couldn’t—wouldn’t blame him.
Star squared her shoulders beneath the wadding she had stuffed into her brother’s coat, draped the damp black cloak around her body and gave her horse yet another pat. Her wet kid gloves clung to her fingers and she was beginning to feel the cool night air.
Right, she told herself. Onward, for there was no sense delaying what was apparently the inevitable.
She squeezed her horse’s flanks and he moved forward. It didn’t take long before she was skirting the edge of town over cobbled backstreets to get to the Mermaid Inn, unnoticed.
If she could just get in and out with no one the wiser—if she could just get to the awful brute of a man her brother had described and called Farley—perhaps she could manage. Perhaps with a bit of luck, she could just give the Farley man a message and make good her escape, with no one the wiser. At least then, she would have staved the fiends off and kept Vern safe from harm.
She saw the big bold sign depicting the notorious tavern. The Mermaid Inn was only a short distance ahead. Even with all her resolve, her nerves began to quake. Her mind began to race and she had to steel herself to buck up and keep going.
Star braced herself as she reached the main courtyard, nimbly jumped off and made her way to the back of the inn. She found there a stone courtyard, only dimly lit with one torch. Perfect, she thought. The more I stay to the shadows, the better my chance of doing the deed with no one the wiser.
She tethered her horse to the hitching post and looked around. The livery boys worked the front courtyard and for the time being, she had gone undetected. Zounds! She thought, so far Vern, it appears, that we are safe.
She stood beneath the shelter of the wide roofed portico, the door latch in her hand and took a long gulp of air when a sound at her back startled her and she turned to find a grinning and grimy urchin looking up at her.
“Did ye not hear me, sir? Would ye be wanting yer horse stabled then?”
“No, thank you,” she said in the deepest voice she could manage as she threw him a coin she could ill afford to part with. “I’ll be but a moment and would like to keep him here…right here.”
“Aye then,” the lad said pleased enough to have the coin he held up to the light.
/> Star swallowed again and entered the busy inn from its back entrance and stood unsure where to go next.
This is dreadful, she thought. She looked around and saw that the corridor led toward many rooms with wide archways. She could hear from the raucous laughter and the squeals of some of the barmaids that everyone was already having a very good time.
