they craved some level of familiarity, so she could perhaps be using it as a stop gap. Plus this particular coach travelled to that town. It was an educated guess and he could only hope he was right.
“I was raised in a family of sisters and I’m afraid that my protective instincts caused me to act in a way that was perhaps not entirely proper. But now that you are safe and happy to remain alone, I shall leave you to it. Have a pleasant trip, Miss.”
He turned on his heel and walked toward the inn, all the while hoping that his gamble would pay off.
He’d taken more steps than he was happy about when she finally called out.
“Wait.”
Just one word, more command than request, but she was used to ordering people about, he supposed.
Jacob ensured there was no trace of triumph on his face before he turned back around.
Chapter Five
Harriet didn’t know if she was making a mistake or not, but the truth was that the encounter with the drunk had scared the wits out of her and this man, though he seemed rather arrogant, also seemed rather capable.
He’d mentioned sisters, too, which somewhat put her mind at ease. Even if it shouldn’t.
And truth be told, she trusted him.
She didn’t know if it was those big shoulders of his that looked as though they could carry the weight of the world.
Maybe it was just that she felt completely and utterly lost and wanted so badly to lean on someone, just for a moment.
He could be worse than the drunk, for goodness sake! Yet she didn’t think so.
Wondering at her own sanity, Harriet called out and braced herself for a look of smug triumph.
Yet when Mr. Lauer turned around, his expression was as friendly and polite as ever.
“P-perhaps I might enjoy some tea,” she said grudgingly.
His smile was a thing of beauty, but Harriet could not allow herself to notice such things. She needed to keep her wits about her.
“Excellent, allow me then. Miss?” He bent and plucked up her bags again as though they weighed nothing.
Harriet was about to give him her name when she stopped.
Good heavens! She didn’t know what to call herself!
All of her careful planning, and she hadn’t come up with a pseudonym.
Though she hadn’t actually been planning on speaking to anyone, in her defence. Lonely, perhaps. But preferable to being sent away or having to endure the company of Althea Furberg.
His raised brow indicated that he found her hesitation odd.
“Harriet,” she blurted. “Harriet – er – Royal.”
She almost cringed as the embarrassing name popped into her head. Apparently subterfuge wasn’t one of her strong suits.
Still, it was done now and couldn’t be taken back.
She thought that she detected a hint of amusement in his blue eyes as she introduced herself, but when she looked again, his expression was nothing more than friendly and polite.
“Shall we, Miss Royal?”
Still wondering if she was making a huge mistake, Harriet nevertheless nodded and followed him to the entrance of the bustling inn.
When he hefted one of her bags to the other arm, holding them both in an easy grip whilst pushing open the door for her, Harriet couldn’t help but admire his strength and his manners. Perhaps he wasn’t as arrogant as he had first appeared.
As she stepped inside, she glanced around the room, fascinated but not entirely comfortable with the tableau before her.
The din of conversation was interrupted frequently with raucous male laughter. The savoury smell of cooking meat battled with the smell of ale and sweat, interspersed every now and then with the cloying perfume of serving girls who flitted from table to table carrying tankard-laden trays whilst swatting away roving hands.
The entire thing was a spectacle, and one she’d never witnessed before.
The feel of a hand on the small of her back startled her, and she turned to see Mr. Lauer smiling down at her.
“Wait here a moment.” He leaned in to speak in her ear, and Harriet almost grew dizzy inhaling the sandalwood and spice scent surrounding him. “I’ll be right back.”
The gooseflesh that broke out on her skin just from the man’s proximity was ridiculous, and Harriet spent the few moments that he was away giving herself a stern talking to about it.
Dragging in a mouthful of not entirely pleasant air, she watched him speak swiftly to who she assumed was the proprietor and give him a handful of coin.
Within seconds he was back and picking up her bags once more, the portly landlord