I did not have long to take in all this for he was clearly astonished to see me. I was about to shut the door of my cupboard room when he burst out: “Who are you and what are you doing up here?”
I raised my eyebrows to express my surprise.
He went on impatiently, “What are you doing on this landing? I have paid for the use of it, and have particularly asked that there should be no intruders.”
“I,” I replied haughtily, “have paid for this room … such as it is, and let me tell you, sir, I deeply resent your manner.”
He said: “You … have paid for a room here!”
“If you can call it a room,” I said. “I have taken this … this … space for the night, understanding that you and your party have taken the rest of the rooms.”
“How long have you been here?”
“I fail to see that that is any concern of yours.”
He walked past me and went downstairs. I heard him calling for the innkeeper.
I stood where I was, listening.
“You rogue. What do you mean by this? Did I or did I not pay you for the use of your rooms this night and was it not on the understanding that I and my party were not to be disturbed?”
“My lord … my lord … the lady has only this small room. It could be of no use to you. That was why I did not mention it. The lady comes frequently. I could not turn her away, my lord.”
“Did I not tell you that I have a very sick man up there?”
“My lord … the lady understands. She will be very quiet.”
“I have expressly commanded …”
I went downstairs and swept past them, for they were standing at the foot of the stairs.
I said: “Your sick friend will be more disturbed by all the noise that you are making than he possibly can by my presence on that floor.”
Then I went into the dining room.
I was aware of him looking after me. He turned and went back upstairs.
The innkeeper’s wife was in the dining room. She was clearly disturbed by all the fuss that was going on and tried to pretend that she was not.
The sucking pig would be served at once, she told me, and I said I was ready for it. She brought it herself. It was succulent and appetising and there was cold venison pie with a mulled wine to wash it down with. This was followed by apples and pears and biscuits flavoured with tansy and some herbs which I could not recognise.
It was when I was eating the biscuits that the man entered the dining room.
He came to my table and said: “I wish to apologise for my behaviour.”
I inclined my head to imply that an apology was needed.
“I was so anxious about my friend.”
“I gathered that,” I answered.
“He is a very sick man and is so easily disturbed.”
“I promise I shall not disturb him.”
I had an opportunity now to look at his face. It was an interesting one. He was deeply bronzed, and his peruke was dark but I imagined beneath it his hair would be fair; his eyes were light brown, almost golden, and he had strongly marked dark brows. It was a strong face—a deep cleft in the chin and full lips—sensuous lips, I decided, which could be cruel; there was a merriment in his eyes which contrasted with the mouth. His was a disturbing personality; or perhaps, as Beau had hinted, I enjoyed the company of the opposite sex in what he had called a normal, healthy way.
I wished I could stop remembering what Beau had said and comparing everyone with him. My interest in this man was because there was something about him which reminded me of Beau.
“May I sit down?” he said.
“This is the general dining room, I believe. And I am about to go.”
“You understand my discomfiture when I discovered that others were close by my sick friend.”
“Others? You mean when you discovered I was.”
He leaned his elbows on the table and studied me intently. I saw the admiration in his eyes and I had to admit that I was gratified.
“You are a very beautiful young lady,” he said. “I am surprised that you are allowed to travel alone.”
“This is hardly to the point,” I said coldly, then feeling it might be unwise to let him think I was alone added: “I am not travelling alone. I have grooms with me. They, alas, have had to find accommodation elsewhere. I make this journey frequently, but this is the first time something unfortunate like this has happened.”
“Please do not think of it as unfortunate. I was angry, I admit. Now I rejoice that I have been given this opportunity to make your acquaintance. May I know your name?”
I hesitated. I could understand his annoyance and he was clearly a quick-tempered man. He was doing his best to apologise now and I did not want to appear ungracious.
“It is Carlotta Main. What is yours?”
I saw that he was surprised. He repeated: “Carlotta Main. You belong to the Eversleigh family.”
“You know my family?”
“I know of them. Lord Eversleigh is your …”
“He is my grandmother’s son by her first marriage.”
“I see. And Leigh.”
“He is my stepfather. We are a rather complicated family.”
“And a military one. I believe the great General Tolworthy was a connection.”
“That’s so. It seems that I am no stranger to you. I wonder if I have heard of your family. What is your name?”
“It is … John Field.”
“No. I have never heard of any Fields.”
“Unexplored pastures,” he said with a hint of humour. “I wish we had met in happier circumstances.”
“And I wish that you get your friend safely to London.”
“Thank you. He needs skilled attention quickly. It is a great anxiety …”
I realized that he was apologising again and I stood up. I felt I should retire. There was something too bold and disturbing in his looks. He studied me too intently, and having had some experience of such matters I was well aware that he was assessing me and for what purpose. He was too like Beau for my comfort, and Beau had taught me so much about the ways of men.
The more I was close to this one, the more uneasy I became.
He stood up with me. He bowed and I went out of the dining room. I took a candle from the table in the hall and started up.
I met the innkeeper’s wife on the stairs with the serving maid. They were carrying food up the landing. It was evidently being served in one of those four rooms. So this John Field had come into the dining room just to apologise to me.
I went into my room and was relieved to see that there was a key. I turned it in the lock and felt safe.