The door closed behind her and a sudden silence fell as Lily and Edward were left alone.
After a moment he said, “I sent a message to your brother. He’ll receive it tomorrow, in the morning if the messenger makes good time.”
“Thank you. He—well, all of them must be so worried.”
“We’ve done the best we can.” His gaze skimmed her. “That bath has done you good. You look quite fetching in that dress, and the color suits you. You’ll feel even better once you’ve eaten, I’m sure.”
Lily agreed. She surveyed the table. It was a veritable feast. As well as the faggots there was mutton pie, the crust light and golden and smelling heavenly. It was served with mashed potatoes, carrots glazed with butter and a little grated nutmeg, and a dish of stewed greens. Also on the table was thick, crusty fresh baked bread, butter and honey.
He filled her glass with the barley water, picked up the jug of ale and waved at her to start. “No need to wait. A good ale takes a while to pour, so you go ahead.”
She said a quick grace under her breath then buttered a slice of bread. It was fresh and smelled delicious. She bit into it and chewed slowly. Bliss.
“Will you try one of the faggots? They’re an old Yorkshire country dish, very good.”
“I’ll try a bit,” she said cautiously. “You seem to know a little about this part of the world. Are you from Yorkshire?”
He cut a slice off one of the faggots and placed it on her plate. “Gravy?”
“Just a little, please.” She took a cautious bite. “Oh, it’s very tasty.”
He placed the rest of the meatball on her plate, then cut her a generous slice of the pie. Tender chunks of meat and rich gravy spilled from the flaky golden crust. He passed her the dish of greens, the carrots and the potatoes, ensuring she’d been served before filling his own plate.
“That was wonderful,” she said when she’d cleaned her plate. She leaned back with a happy sigh. “I hadn’t realized I was so hungry.”
“Long time since you ate, I expect.” He polished off the rest of the pie and buttered a fourth slice of bread. He’d eaten nearly three times as much as she had and yet somehow, he still looked as lean and hungry as a wolf.
She took a deep breath. “Mr. Galbraith, would you lend me some money, please?” She’d made her decision while she was taking her bath. And before that, while she was lying trussed like a goose in the cavity under Mr. Nixon’s seat, she’d vowed to become more independent.
He looked up frowning. “Money? What for?”
“To pay for a coach ticket back to London.”
He returned his attention to his dinner. “You’re not returning to London on the mail coach.” He said it as if she had no choice, no say in the matter.
“Yes,” she said firmly. “I am.” She’d already experienced the worst coach trip she could imagine. The Royal Mail could not be so difficult. People traveled on it all the time. “I’ll take Betty with me, if that makes you feel better. I’m sure her mother would allow it if we paid her well enough, and Betty and I would chaperone each other. It would be quite respectable. As long as you will lend me the money for the ticket. Naturally my brother will repay you.”
“Well, he won’t, because I’m not lending you a penny.” He snorted as if the very idea of her traveling on the Mail were ridiculous. “I’m returning you to your brother’s care and that’s the end of it.” He sounded quite cross, as if she’d offended him in some way.
But she was not a package to be delivered. “Mr. Galbraith—Edward, I’m extremely grateful to you for rescuing me and taking such good care of me while I was . . . indisposed, but I’m in a much better case now, and there is truly no need to put yourself out for me.”
“I’m not.”
She gave a frustrated sigh. “If I were a total stranger, would you change your plans and turn back to London in order to return me to my family?”
He barely even considered her question. “But you’re not a stranger, you’re Cal Rutherford’s sister and I owe it to our friendship to protect you, just as I would expect him to protect my sister in a similar situation.”
“Do you have a sister?” she asked, momentarily distracted by the idea of him with sisters. On the few occasions she’d seen him, she’d gained the impression he was very alone.
“No. No siblings at all,” he added, anticipating her next question.
“Sad for your parents.”
“They’re both dead,” he said indifferently.
“Mine are too, but I have Cal and Emm and Rose and George. And the aunts,” she said on a soft surge of emotion. She’d always taken family for granted.
There was a short silence. The fire crackled. Outside in the distance an owl hooted.
She straightened her spine and returned to the matter under dispute. “Whatever you think my brother might expect, I can see no reason why your plans should be ruined simply because I landed myself and my mess in your lap.”
“My plans weren’t ruined.”
“But you were traveling north for some reason, I presume.”
He shrugged. “A house party. Nothing important.”
“But your friends will be disappointed when you don’t show up, won’t they?”
He gave her a flat look. “They’re not my friends.”
“They’re not? Then why would you—?” She broke off. “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.”
A knock sounded on the door and the innkeeper’s daughter entered with a covered dish, followed by her brother carefully carrying a jug. “Gooseberry pudding with custard,” she announced. “Put it there, Jimmy—careful, it’s hot.”
Ned was not displeased to have their conversation interrupted. The house party he’d planned to attend was nothing special, just something to do, a way of passing the time.
And how lame was that? Was this what his life had come to, finding the least disagreeable way to
