Page 70 of The Duke of Kisses
“No, but that’s a splendid idea,” she said. “I just like to have even numbers—it’s a silly thing my brain focuses upon.”
“What card game are we to play?” David approached the long dining table, where bottles of port and sherry stood near the center. He poured himself a glass of port before taking a seat.
“Loo,” Mrs. Tabor, a dark-haired woman near David’s age, answered.
“We’re playing for pennies,” Mr. Tabor said.
“I tried to make things more interesting,” Mrs. Oglethorpe said with resignation. “However, no one wanted to increase the wagering.”
“Would you like to deal, my lord?” one of the Misters Keeling asked David.
“No, you go ahead.” David sipped his port and dug out some pennies from his coat pocket.
As Mr. Keeling shuffled the cards, the door to the exterior opened. Everyone turned their attention to the new arrival, except David.
“Pardon me, is the innkeeper about?”
The sound of the familiar feminine voice drew David out of his chair. Fanny’s eyes registered recognition as she stepped into the common room, followed by her maid.
“Fan—Miss Snowden.” David bowed, catching himself before he betrayed their intimacy.
Her cheeks were flushed, and she seemed rather harried, which filled him with concern. “I’m in need of a room for the evening.”
Hell and the devil.What had happened with her bloody parents? David wished they weren’t standing in the midst of so many strangers.
“I’ll fetch him,” Mr. Tabor said, rising.
“I don’t think there are any more rooms available,” Mrs. Oglethorpe said. She smiled at Fanny. “But you’re welcome to stay with me.”
All David could think was that he wanted Fanny with him. Yesterday had been a tantalizing glimpse of what it would mean to have her as his wife, and he was eager for their future to arrive.
Fanny shot a look toward David before smiling weakly at the widow. “Thank you.”
The innkeeper, Mr. Lyle, came into the common room, his gaze lighting on Fanny. “Good evening. Miss Snowden, isn’t it? Your father made that table for me.” He gestured toward where everyone sat.
“I’m in need of a room for this evening, Mr. Lyle.”
Lyle frowned. “I’m afraid I’m full for the night,” he said with regret. “You could try the Raven at the other end of town, but that’s…” He shook his head. “No, I can’t let you go there. We’ll find room. There’s a small chamber in the attic. It’s more of a storage closet, really, and we’ll have to make up a pallet on the floor, but it’s only for one night.”
“My maid is with me too,” Fanny said, gesturing to the woman behind her.
“She can stay with me,” Mrs. Oglethorpe repeated. “And we can make the pallet in my room for her maid.”
“That’s very kind of you,” Fanny said, again darting a glance toward David.
If he was interpreting her correctly, she was expressing her disappointment at not being able to speak with him. Or at least signaling that she wanted to. Good, he wanted to know what in the devil she was doing here.
“Do you have a coach?” the innkeeper asked.
“Yes, my coachman and footman have taken it to the mews.”
The innkeeper nodded. “I’ll instruct them to take your baggage to Mrs. Oglethorpe’s room, and I’ll set up your maid’s pallet. Would you care to come along, and I’ll show you upstairs?”
“Let her stay and have a drink,” Mrs. Oglethorpe said. “You’re awfully pale, dear. Sit with us for a spell and play loo.”
“I don’t know how to play loo,” Fanny said. “But I daresay a glass of port would be welcome.”
The maid whispered in Fanny’s ear, and Fanny nodded. “My maid will go up with you, Mr. Lyle,” Fanny said.
