Just not in your house. That much was abundantly clear. So she couldn’t stay but neither could she go. Her back ached from the jarring carriage ride she had already endured and she was tired beyond reason. Then there was the fact that she didn’t have a house to return to in London. Her previous residence had belonged to the Duke of St. Ives, and they had since parted ways.
She looked to Blake to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t said a word, but the set of his mouth and his crossed arms said he didn’t like the situation any more than she did.
“There must be somewhere else I can stay? A hotel or boarding house?” She didn’t mean for it to sound as though the inn was beneath her, but the thought of the laughing men in the tap and Blake’s hostility was enough to almost make her ask if she could sleep in Matthew’s barn.
“Not for miles,” Matthew shook his head and looked to Blake. “Can you make up a room?”
“If she says please.”
Sophia gritted her teeth until her head pounded. Seems there was little choice for any of them. She released her breath and forced a smile. “Please?”
“There.” Matthew grinned. “I knew we could work it out.”
* * *
As the afternoon waned, Sophia bathed and dressed in a wrinkled but clean gown and still she fumed.
She ran a silver-backed brush through her hair again and again in front of the banked fire, as her stomach growled. Refreshments hadn’t been offered and Blake hadn’t come to apologize. It was the latter that had her on her feet in front of the looking glass, pinning the hair from her face with quick, angry movements.
If he thought she was going to hide away and be ignored until her sister-in-law had her baby, then Blake had better think again.
Sliding the last pin into place to secure one errant black curl, Sophia drew a deep breath against her worries of pitchforks and cruel laughter and opened the door. She expected to do battle in the hall, yet there was not a soul around. Her steps were slow but sure as she made her way down the stairs and into the taproom.
With an hour until supper, the tap was relatively empty, the laughing group from earlier nowhere to be seen. Heads lifted, bored faces stared for a moment, curiosity quickly replacing tedium. She met their gazes one by one with what she hoped looked like confidence, inclined her head and started for a table in the farthest, darkest corner of the room. A cold shiver worked its way down her spine, but she ignored it. Even in her own mind she wouldn’t admit fear and dread made her feel more vulnerable than she had in years.
“You shouldn’t be down here,” Dominic, the young man who had earlier filled her bath, told her from the bar.
She’d wondered how long it would take for him to notice her presence. “I’m thirsty and hungry, where else would I go?”
“Blake won’t like it,” he said with a nervous glance in the direction of the other occupants.
Aware of their audience, she bit her tongue against anger and smiled sweetly. “If he’d offered sustenance in my room, I would have accepted.”
“I’ll bring a tray up. Please, you can’t be down here.”
Sophia narrowed her eyes. “And why not?”
“It’s not for ladies, miss.”
“Then we shall count ourselves lucky that I’m no lady.”
Dominic stared at her for a full minute as he fidgeted with a linen towel before rounding the bar toward her.
“I’ll buy her a drink, lad.” One of the men finally spoke up before Dominic could form a suitable reply to her insult of herself.
Sophia swiveled in her seat to face him and worked hard to school her features to calm politeness. “No, thank you, good sir, I’ll get my own.”
“His coin not good enough fer ya?” Another joined in the conversation as he rose to his muddy feet.
Dominic groaned.
“Thank you, but I pay my own way.”
“Was just bein’ nice, lass,” the third man grumbled.
“And I thank you,” she nodded in their individual directions. “But since I am now a guest here, I believe my food is already paid for.”
With nods of agreement from the men and only one slight brow rise from Dominic, she went ahead and ordered. “I’ll have watered ale and whatever food you have, and then I’ll leave.”
“Ale?”
Sophia rather liked the taste. “Yes please.”
“We only have cold stew from lunch and dinner won’t