used to be four barmaids and four kitchen maids in those days.”
“Good grief, really? So extensive a staff?”
“Six stable hands too,” Edna said, nodding. “You see, the stagecoaches used to stop here to change their horses here on the way to Exeter.”
Mina paused with her fork halfway to her mouth. “I noticed the stables were large,” she admitted. “So, they used to house teams of horses here?”
Edna nodded. “Sometimes as many as twenty-four horses at a time.”
“Why do they not stop here now? The stagecoaches, I mean?”
Edna’s gaze dropped. “Couldn’t say, I’m sure.”
Mina frowned. “The patrons here,” she said hesitantly, remembering the motley assortment gathered there the night she was wed. “Are they village folk?”
Again, Edna looked evasive. “A few maybe,” she said—blandly. “But there’s a tavern set in the heart of the village. The Ship, it’s called. The villagers prefer that one. It’s not so far for them to walk and—er the reputation is more… wholesome.”
“I see,” Mina said thoughtfully. So, The Harlot was frequented by unsavory types. It was no more than she had suspected. “The—er—night I arrived,” she added. “There appeared to be some form of bare-knuckle boxing match taking place in the courtyard.”
Edna pressed her lips together. “Master Nye is a champion from ‘round these parts,” she said with a fleeting look at Mina’s startled face. Edna sighed and shook her head. “He’s fought bouts in Exeter and London too. Prizefighting, they calls it. A nasty, rough business it is and brings a nasty, rough crowd with it.”
Recalling the assortment of people gathered in The Harlot that night, Mina could not help but secretly agree. “If he’s a champion,” Mina said slowly. “Maybe that is why he does not devote more energy in to making this place a successful coaching inn?”
“Mebbe.” Edna did not look convinced.
Mina chewed the last of her mutton and swallowed. “A very tasty gravy, that,” she said. “Do you always serve the battered pudding on the same plate? We always used to have it with gravy as an entrée.”
Edna snorted. “It’s all served on one plate here. Plate, bowl, whatever comes to hand.”
Mina nodded. “Do you have any diners in the small private parlor rooms on a Sunday?”
“Oh yes,” Edna agreed. “All three of ‘em usually. They just has the same as what’s served in the public bar though.” She shrugged. “I try to make sure they all gets matching plates, but that’s as far as it goes.”
“Well, that’s certainly understandable all things considered.” Mina rose to go and fetch the pail from the scullery.
“What you doing of now, Mrs. Nye?” Edna asked in alarm. “You should let your food digest a while by lying on your sofa.”
“I’m going to fill the copper, so we have hot water for the pots and pans.”
Edna jumped out of her chair. “If Master Nye sees you out there working the pump, it’s my head he’ll scalp for it.”
Mina turned in the doorway. “Very well,” she conceded. “Though you’ve still got to go and collect all the plates,” she pointed out.
“I’m used to it,” Edna said dourly. “I’ll fetch the water.” She paused. “If you’re truly not ready to retire to your parlor, then you could grate some soap shavings for doing the dishes.”
“Yes of course,” Mina said and crossed the room to search the cupboards for a grater.
It took two of them an hour, stood side by side at the huge scullery sink to wash the pots and plates. They had to replace the dishwater several times and boil the copper again before they were done. By the time Mina took herself off to bed, she was sure she would sleep like a baby.
Alas, it was not to be. Again, she woke in the early hours to strange noises outside the inn. She lay a moment listening to the rumble and drag across the cobbles. Then she threw back her blankets and crossed to the window. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw two flickering lights amidst the darkness outside, but even as she craned her eyes to focus on them, they went out and all went quiet. She stood there a moment, silent and still, waiting and watching, but nothing happened. Frowning, Mina returned to bed and when rain started pelting against her window an hour later, she finally fell asleep.
8
Mina was brushing crumbs from her skirts after her toast the next morning, when Nye appeared in the doorway of the kitchen and gave her a meaningful look.
“Good morning,” she said brightly.
“Parlor,”