Page 28 of The Duke of Ruin
Diana watched as they spoke for a few minutes and then Simon handed him money. Relief collapsed her shoulders, and she realized she’d been holding her breath. “There’s a room for us?” she asked when Simon returned.
“The last one, as it happens.”
“But what if more travelers arrive? Perhaps we’ll have to take someone into our room, like the Ogdens did in Coventry.” She fought the blush that started up her neck.
“We needn’t worry about that. Our lodging is a rather small room on the uppermost floor. In fact, the rest of the chambers up there belong to the innkeeper and his family. He wanted to make sure we didn’t mind cramped quarters. I assured him we were grateful foranyquarters.”
Diana couldn’t disagree, but she did wonder what “cramped” meant. She hoped the bed was large enough for them to have space between them at least.
“Shall we go and see?” Simon asked. “Dinner won’t be for a while yet.”
She nodded, and he excused himself to dart outside. She turned and went to the window. Simon made his way to the stables, where Tinley had undoubtedly taken care of their team of horses. When Simon returned, he had their luggage. They climbed two flights of stairs to a landing where the top of Simon’s head barely cleared the low ceiling. He gestured toward a door on the left. “There, I think.”
She tried the latch, and it opened into a small, dim, cold room. She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.
Simon set their cases inside and went to the compact fireplace. “Let me get the fire going.”
Diana took stock of the space while he worked. It was their smallest lodging yet, with a rather narrow bed opposite the fireplace and a single chair in the corner between the hearth and one of two tiny windows.
“Oh, it’s so dark in here!” A woman walked in—Diana had neglected to close the door—carrying a lantern and a basket of wood. “Here’s more wood for you, and some light.” She took the basket to Simon and set it on the hearth, then went to place the lantern on the small table in the corner next to the bed. Turning to Diana, she smiled. “I’m Mrs. Woodlawn. Welcome to The Happy Cat.”
Diana hadn’t paid attention to the sign in the yard. “I like the name you chose for your inn.”
“We have several cats—all of them happy. I suppose we should have called it The Happy Cats.” She laughed softly. “Don’t be surprised if one of them tries to sleep with you. Most folks don’t mind, especially on a cold night like tonight. They’re nice little warmers.” She frowned at the bed. “Let me go fetch you another blanket or two. We don’t often have guests up here, and you’re going to need more covering than that.” She turned and left, closing the door behind her.
Diana went to one of the windows and peered outside. It was nearly dark, but the lamp in the yard illuminated the white ground as well as the snow descending in fat white clumps. “I can’t believe how much it’s snowing. I’ve never seen such big flakes.” She squinted. “Or maybe that’s a bunch of flakes stuck together.” She began to worry about how long they might be trapped here.
Turning from the window, she went to the hearth, where Simon had started a nice fire. She held her hands out to the warmth that it was just starting to generate.
He stood and brushed his hands on his breeches as he went to the window closest to the fireplace. His exhalation made her turn partially toward him.
“It doesn’t look good, does it?” she asked. “What if we can’t leave tomorrow?”
“There isn’t much we can do if that happens. At least we’re here and not stuck out there with no place to stay.”
Yes, that was a blessing. But that didn’t mean she had to be happy about staying here. “I will hope for a speedy thaw.”
He rejoined her at the fire, peering at her askance. “I own I’m looking forward to the cat on the bed. Do you like cats?” His mouth tilted up. “Kitty?”
She laughed softly at her alias. “I suppose I should.” She threw a glance at the too-small bed and wondered if the cat would be kind enough to act as a barrier. “I’ve never had one.” Her father always had a pack of large hounds. The animals showed their allegiance to him and him alone, which was the way he preferred it.
Simon arched a brow at her. “Indeed? Not even in the kitchen to chase the mice away?”
“I don’t know. I was never allowed in the kitchen.”
“Never? Not even to sneak a cake?”
She’d tried once, when she was five, but that had earned her a week of nothing but bread and broth, and she hadn’t been allowed cakes for a month. “My parents didn’t like me spending time with the retainers.” That was true enough. Long-buried memories rose to the front of her mind, and she flinched.
“Cold?” Simon asked, apparently noticing her movement.
“Y-yes. Warming up, though.” She shoved the thoughts away, annoyed that her parents and her upbringing had intruded on her so much. She longed to focus on the future, to hopefully put her past behind her and maybe be like the cats here…happy.
“Good.”
A rap on the door was followed by Mrs. Woodlawn greeting them again. “I’ve brought extra blankets.” She set them on the bed. “I’ll make sure one of my boys tends your fire while you’re downstairs for dinner. That is, if you’re coming down for dinner?”
Simon’s stomach growled, causing Diana to stifle a smile. He was always ravenous when they arrived at their evening destination. “Goodness yes, why wouldn’t we?”
