Page 106 of A Castaway in Cornwall
Laura and Alex stepped inside, the maid shoved his damp shirt, coat, and knapsack atop the crate, and then closed the panel, shutting them inside the compartment, just as the front door below opened.
In a loud, long-suffering manner, the innkeeper said, “Very well, if you insist on searching the house again, be quick about it.”
In the darkness, Alexander slid a protective arm around Laura’s waist, and she leaned against him, her soft hair against his bare chest. Could she feel his racing heart? He took a steadying breath and prayed they wouldn’t be discovered.
Through a thin crack in the panels, they saw the maid tidy one bed, then stuff a pillow beneath her dressing gown and climb into the other.
The chamber door burst open, and the three men charged inside.
“Wha—!” the woman screeched in alarm, sitting up as best she could with her enlarged middle. “What’ee doin’ in my room? Have’ee come to murder me in my bed? Get out this instant, or I shall scream. Out, out, I tell’ee. If’ee make my poor child come early, that innocent life will be on yer heads and the heads of yer own children!”
The officer held up a palm. “Calm down, madam, calm down. We are only searching for an escaped prisoner of war.”
“Are’ee blind, sirs? I am no prisoner, not even a man. Out, out, I tell’ee!”
With a quick look under the bed, the men sheepishly left the chamber, and continued their search of the inn. Half an hour later, they left the premises with nothing to show for their efforts.
When all was quiet again, the maid whispered for them to wait and slipped from the room. She returned shortly to open the panel for them.
“I’ve brought some warm milk to help’ee sleep,” she said, as though nothing so very out of the ordinary had just occurred.
“Th-thank you,” Laura managed.
“We are obliged to you,” Alex added.
The maid nodded. “Good night, sir. Madam. I’ll be back in the morning.” And she let herself out without another word.
In the morning, Alex was up and out of the room before Laura awakened. Thoughtful of him to give her privacy to dress. The same maid came in with warm water, sent up by “yer mister.”
When Laura asked the time, she was surprised to find the hour so advanced. She brushed her tangled hair and washed in the heavenly warm water. Again Rennet helped with her lacings and fastenings. In hindsight it had been very foolish of her not to bring only front-fastening gowns. Today she wore her own dress, rolled up Miss Chegwin’s black one, and shoved it into the bag with the few other things she had packed. When she looked in the mirror, she saw that she looked more like her own self again.
“Thank you again for hiding us last night,” Laura said. “That was quite a performance.”
Rennet smiled. “Do’ee think so? I always wanted to be an actress on Drury Lane, but Pa said it weren’t proper. I said, ‘Better’n cleaning chamber pots all my livelong day,’ but, oh well, here I be.”
“You are a talented actress.”
The maid dimpled. “Thank’ee, ma’am. That makes me very happy to hear.”
When Rennet left, Alex returned with bread, butter, and cups of hot strong tea for them both. Laura could have kissed him.
After they had eaten, she removed a few coins from her reticule and extended them. “For the room.”
He shook his head. “No need. I have my earnings from the salvaging work.”
“Save that for the journey.”
“It would not be gentlemanly to allow you to pay my way.”
“The money is from the sale of the jeweled salamander. Not mine, really. In fact, I would feel better about spending it on returning another treasure rather than on myself.”
“A treasure now, am I? Better than flotsam, I suppose.” He winked.
Her face warmed in embarrassment, but she saw that herwords had pleased as well as amused him, so she could not regret saying them.
They packed their few remaining things and went downstairs.
Finding the publican alone, Laura said, “Thank you, sir, for your ... discretion ... last night.”
