‘Then let us confound Satan. What do you suggest?’
Hannah wrinkled her brow and pulled her nose. ‘Charades might cause more ructions. I have it! Hunt the slipper.’
‘I do not see how anyone can try to murder anyone playing that,’ said Lord Harley with a grin.
He retreated to the coffee room, where his suggestion was greeted with cries of delight. ‘What will be the prize?’ asked Old Tom, the coachman.
‘No household duties tomorrow,’ said Lord Harley promptly.
‘The only one who cannot play,’ pointed out Emily, ‘is the one that hides the slipper.’
‘Then let me do it,’ offered the landlord. ‘I can hide it somewheres where I swear none of you will find it.’
Only Captain Seaton, who had rejoined the group, grumbled it was all tomfoolery.
It was decided to use one of the ladies’ slippers, so Lizzie ran upstairs and came back with a pretty red-leather beaded slipper, and handed it to the landlord. He told them to give him half an hour and disappeared.
Captain Seaton sidled up to Lizzie when Lord Harley’s back was turned to him. ‘You’ve been avoiding me,’ he said. ‘You know you are promised to me and a lady never breaks a promise.’
The laughter died out of Lizzie’s face. ‘We will discuss it some other time,’ she said hurriedly and moved away to talk to Mr Hendry, the shabby gentleman who had been one of the two outside passengers.
Emily noticed that even Mr Hendry had a tender look on his face as he talked to Lizzie. He was well enough in his way, she thought, plain and honest-looking and simply dressed and younger than Mr Fletcher, but Emily had set her mind on making a match of it for Lizzie and Mr Fletcher.
The captain waited until they were all busy talking to whisper to Mr Fletcher, ‘You just watch it, you popinjay. Mrs Bisley is going to marry me and so she says, so stop sniffing around her, you churl.’
‘Odd’s fish!’ cried Mr Fletcher, enraged. ‘Cannot you see the lady would like to have none of you?’
‘What’s going on there?’ demanded Lord Harley sharply, and the captain moved away from Mr Fletcher.
The landlord eventually reappeared, rubbing his hands. ‘You’ll never find it,’ he said. ‘Reckon Miss Pym’ll have all her helpers on the morrow.’
They all rushed off to search the rooms. Only Lizzie hesitated. She would have liked to play the game with Mr Fletcher, but felt that by doing so she might be putting Mr Fletcher’s life at risk. The captain had looked so menacing when he had been talking to him. She went off with the delighted Mr Hendry. Emily had somehow expected Lord Harley to pair off with her, but he had gone off with the coachman. She started to search in a half-hearted way and then with more enthusiasm. It was such a small slipper, it could be anywhere. She even took down pint-sized pewter mugs from their hooks in the taproom and looked inside. It was hard work searching. There were so many nooks and crannies in the inn. Then she decided to try her own bedchamber. She turned everything over and looked under the bed and under the blankets, but there was no sign of the slipper. She was very tired. Bursts of laughter from various parts of the inn showed the others were showing no signs of flagging. Emily decided to lie down for just a little. Ten minutes’ rest was all she needed. She lay down on the top of the covers. Her eyes closed almost immediately, and soon she was fast asleep.
Hannah came in a quarter of an hour later and stood in the doorway, looking at the sleeping Emily. She looked very beautiful and innocent in sleep, thought Hannah. Hannah still nursed hopes of a match between Lord Harley and Emily. She turned quickly and went downstairs and searched about, not for the slipper, but for Lord Harley. She found him in the dining-room, looking in a jug on top of the china cupboard.
‘My lord,’ said Hannah. ‘I cannot leave the kitchen for long, for I have some cakes and bread in the oven. Would you be so good as to fetch me my reticule from the Blue Room? It is lying on the armchair by the fireplace.’
‘Certainly, ma’am,’ he said, looking at her thoughtfully. He wondered what she was about. Miss Pym, he knew, was still servant enough to fetch her own reticule. Still, he made his way up to the Blue Room and then stood, as Hannah had recently done, surveying the sleeping Emily.
So that was it. He grinned. There was no more determined matchmaker than a spinster. He would not play her game, although young Miss Freemantle looked very beautiful and appealing. He walked to the armchair and picked up Hannah’s reticule.
She sighed a little and smiled in her sleep. He went to the bed and looked down at her. Her bosom was rising and falling gently. Her skin was very fair, and dark lashes with auburn tips were fanned out on her cheeks.
On a sudden impulse, he sat down on the edge of the bed, leaned down, and kissed her gently on the lips.
Emily was dreaming that Lord Ranger Harley was kissing her. She moved her body sinuously in her sleep and wound her arms around his neck. Startled, Lord Harley kissed her more deeply, pressing his hard lips into her soft beguiling pink ones, feeling her small hands caressing the nape of his neck under his long black hair.
Then her body went rigid and her eyes flew open. He immediately released her. She sat up with her face flaming and dealt him a resounding slap across the cheek.
‘How dare you!’ hissed Emily, her eyes blazing.
‘If you were not enjoying my kiss,’ he said furiously, ‘why did you wind your arms around my neck and kiss me back?’
‘I was dreaming,’ said Emily. ‘I was dreaming of Mr Williams.’
‘If you are in the habit of kissing him like that,’ said Lord Harley, suddenly as furious as she, ‘then I suggest you marry him as soon as possible.’
He turned and strode from the room, carrying Hannah’s reticule. He went straight down to the kitchen. Hannah was bent over the fire, stirring something in a pot.
‘Miss Pym,’ said Lord Harley, handing her the reticule, ‘do not try to arrange a match for me with Miss Freemantle.’
‘I?’ exclaimed Hannah.
‘Yes, you. She made an enchanting picture, lying there like that, as you very well knew. I am not going to marry Miss Freemantle. She is a silly little girl of no attraction whatsoever.’
‘Then,’ said Miss Hannah Pym tartly, ‘I do not know why you are becoming so exercised. The very sight of her must have filled you with loathing.’
‘Pah!’ said Lord Harley and went out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind him.
Up in the Red Room, Lizzie was saying to Mr Hendry, ‘I am so very tired. I do not think I can search anymore.’
‘You are too frail a lady to have to work like a servant in this inn,’ said Mr Hendry. ‘I would that I could protect you from all ills.’
He had odd light-grey eyes that were suddenly intense. Lizzie realized she was standing with her back to the bed and that he was advancing upon her. ‘Why, Mrs Bradley,’ she called, suddenly seeing that fat figure in the passage. ‘Come and join us in the search.’
‘Reckon it won’t do much good, m’dear,’ said Mrs Bradley, but looking curiously from Lizzie to Mr Hendry. ‘Landlord says as how he’ll only give us the one hint. It’s hanging, he says, where leather hangs.’
‘The tack-room?’ suggested Mr Hendry.
Now the landlord had said firmly that the slipper was in the inn, but Mrs Bradley said, ‘There’s a good idea, Mr Hendry. Why don’t you go across to the stables and have a look and Mrs Bisley and I will take a rest.’
Mr Hendry went with obvious reluctance.
‘I don’t know if it’s the money you got or that dainty way of yours, Mrs Bisley, but the men are around you like flies around the jam pot,’ said Mrs Bradley. ‘You should be more like our Miss Emily. She got a good hard streak. Pretty as a picture, but not the type of lady to drive the men romantical.’