Her abduction, though, had seemed very real. The cart had been real, and that man had been real. It wasn’t Latin he’d been speaking. Still a language she didn’t know. Could ghostly Romans even steal a cart? And why would they? Why would they come for her? Was she a traitor? Guilty of something?
Well, a case could be made for being shallow and frivolous. Maybe even self-absorbed. Guilty of being a silly girl who cared about gowns and jewelry, and having an enviable wedding.
Her arms tightly wrapped around her, she kept walking. At this point, she wasn’t sure whether it wasn’t as cold as it had been, or if she was simply too cold to feel it. Her feet were bruised and sore, the shoes she wore unable to bear such abuse. The sole had become soft and worn, barely protecting her from the pebbles and stones she walked over.
Never in her life had she walked so far. Every part of her hurt. Her palms burned, her knees were raw and scraped, and bruises seemed to be everywhere.
The moon came out through a gap in the clouds as she reached a crossroad. The road she’d walked down had reached this road, which seemed a larger road. Now she didn’t know whether to go left or right.
If she took the wrong turn, she might be walking into wilderness for a long, long stretch. At least until morning. This was a main road, so it had to have some traffic on it come light. Or she might come across some houses where she could seek help. It was possible.
If the hotel was left, that would have to mean the cart would have to take her through the village, and that would be a risk. A cart traveling through the village at night would be noticed, wouldn’t it? Particularly in times where someone was kidnapping people every other day. No, that would be too big a risk. The conclusion had her picking going right and she set off.
Chapter 24
MR. WEBER WAS OUTSIDE WHEN Clemmie finally reached the hotel. It was shortly after dawn, and a guest was preparing to leave.
“My dear Mrs. Rowland,” he said when he saw her and came rushing over. “What’s happened?”
“I was kidnapped,” she started, tears flowing again. His concern had her crying again. “I escaped.”
“Come inside. We must warm you.” With his arm around her, he led her inside, leaving the departing guests to fend for themselves. “The constable will be here this morning, but we must warm you.”
He brought her over to the fire, and the heat burned in its intensity.
“Some hot tea, I think,” he said, indicating to one of the bellboys, who rushed off. “How did this happen?”
“I don’t know. I was walking to my room, and then I woke up on the back of a cart. I was being taken somewhere, but I escaped. They looked for me, the man who’d abducted me, but I hid.
Her fingers were painful. She was so cold that they reacted with pain at the warmth around her now. They were also bloody and dirty, wretched really. Her dress was well beyond repair with mud and dirt, torn in places.
“We must warm you. I will have the boiler fired up early. Please wait here.”
Luckily, there was no one around gawking at her. It was too early for the guests to be up. Still, she also felt unease, because whoever had done this to her was here in the hotel. She’d been attacked walking to her room, and what was to say they wouldn’t try again? They knew they hadn’t been successful.
Mr. Weber returned and Clemmie felt relieved. She felt safe with him, which meant she didn’t believe he was responsible for any of this.
“A little while and you can have a hot bath. That will help.”
The tea arrived and Mr. Weber poured her a cup. The cup felt hot and her fingers shook as she accepted it.
“Someone here has very ill intent,” he said quietly. “It must be one of the people that have been here from the start.”
They had all been ordered to stay, but guests had just left. They hadn’t been people she recognized. “I thought the constable asked people not to leave.”
“Oh, they arrived last night. They only stayed one night. They could not have been responsible.”
“Oh,” Clemmie said. There was logic to that. They couldn’t have had any part in this.
“This is still a hotel,” he said. “Although I can’t say I understand any of this. It is… extraordinary.” He was silent for a moment. There were things he wasn’t saying. From his perspective, he probably wanted the lot of them out of his hotel. “I will call the doctor for you, and I think you should account your experiences to the constable as soon as he arrives. And maybe you should stay in public places until he does,” he finished quietly.
Not even Mr. Weber trusted the safety of his own hotel at the moment. “You must drink your tea,” he continued. “Get some warmth into you. It must have been a frightening time for you.”
For a second, Clemmie debated about telling him about the march of the soldiers she’d heard, but couldn’t find a way to speak about it. The last thing she wanted now was for her only ally to think she was insane—maybe even the source of all this upheaval.
One of the bellboys returned and nodded to Mr. Weber, who turned to her. “It seems the water is sufficiently hot for a bath. It has been poured and I urge you to warm yourself. The chill in you is still a threat.”
Placing the cup down, Clemmie rose as he urged her to. She didn’t particularly feel cold, but that was perhaps more reason to warm herself. Her shoes and dress were both sodden, her feet so cold they were practically numb.
But the last
