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She pulled a face but held her tongue for a fraction of a moment, thinking his command allowed her some leeway. “Understood,” she told him.
“Good girl. Off with you, now.” He patted her calf and then pulled her skirt around her boot.
She looked back as she weaved her way out of the woods. How had he found her? Had he tracked her? Why? Well, it didn’t matter why, because it was a devilishly good thing that he had.
~ Nine ~
IT WAS A frustrating business, the matter of finding and securing help. No one moved fast enough for Felicia.
Breathless, she had asked the stableboy to walk her horse and to remove Whiley’s remaining front shoe. Then she ran to the back entrance of the inn and found Hodgings in the kitchen.
In clipped and disjointed sentences, she poured out her morning’s escapade but found only one thing seemed to get Hodgings on the move.
“Whot is all this ye say?” Hodgings said after her diatribe.
“Help, you must fetch help. Glen Ashton says—”
“Well, why didn’t ye say so? Mr. Ashton needs the magistrate, does he? Right then,” said the innkeeper.
As he took off, she went upstairs to Scott, whom she found sitting up in bed. She plopped onto the corner of the bed and gave him a full rendition of this latest affair.
He scowled at her and said, “Dash it, Felicia … I should be in on this.”
“Well, no sense scowling over what can’t be helped.” She sighed. “You haven’t touched your lunch.”
“I direct you to look at it and tell me, if you can, what it is?”
Momentarily diverted, she inspected his tray and pulled a grimace. “Ugh. I don’t know what it is, but I am certain is must be good for you.”
“No, it isn’t,” Scott answered roundly.
“Yes, but it is what the doctor ordered, I am sure,” she answered doubtfully.
“Is it, by God!” he said with some disgust. “Well, take it away and have them send me up some sirloin.”
“You know, I rather agree with you. I think you would be better off with some real food.” She took up his tray, went into the hallway, found a chambermaid, and asked her to kindly bring Mr. Hanover some meat and bread.
She returned to him and answering his questions regarding her adventure. When she was done, he considered her for a long moment and inquired, “A child, you say? How old do you think she is?”
Felicia puzzled over this. “I don’t know. I can’t be certain she is a child, actually. She could be a young woman …? She is rather tall, I did see that, or at least I thought she was. It was difficult to get a good look through the trees.”
“Flip, how do you know this isn’t all a hum?”
“Why, Scott. You know me better than that.” She frowned at him. “Why would I make up anything so ridiculous?”
“No, not made up but perhaps misunderstood?”
“If that gruel were still here, I would plaster your face with it,” she returned.
“You would try,” he countered pugnaciously, at which they both laughed.
She then sighed however and said, “What is taking them so long?”
At that, a knock sounded at the partially opened door and a serving girl stuck in her head to say, “Sir awaits ye below, miss.”
“Right,” Felicia said, getting to her feet. She went and dropped a kiss on Scott’s forehead and said, “Enjoy your sirloin when it gets here.”
“Be careful, Flip,” Scott cautioned. “Don’t get your neck stretched.”
