Chapter 6

Leopold did not go back to sleep even though he had closed his eyes.

Why had Bethany frowned when she looked over his body? Did she find something displeasing?

He sat up and looked over at her. Bethany lay curled on her side, hands tucked beneath her cheek and blanket covering her.

She should have a bed, not be sleeping on the settee. She should inquire if there was another room available. Though he liked having here her, he just didn't like that she slept on the settee while he had the bed.

He should be on the settee and not her and would tell her when she woke.

"Do you need something?" she asked without opening her eyes.

"I am sorry if I disturbed you." How had she known he was awake?

Bethany then opened her eyes and stretched before sitting up. She still wore the same traveling dress that she had been wearing when her driver discovered him in the middle of the road. Her trunk was by the door so she could change if she wished. There was a screen before the chamber pot if she wanted privacy.

Now it was his turn to frown. Had she even used the chamber pot since they arrived?

Of course, it wasn't something he could ask, but Leopold was beginning to realize how much his being attacked had inconvenienced Bethany and vowed to make it up to her somehow. Though, it was likely she would not let him since she did not even like him. Yet, she was kind enough to remain with him until he recovered.

Bethany was a much better person than he was.

"I will bring you breakfast."

"You should not be doing such chores."

"As my servants are off delivering messages and gathering clothing, either I go for breakfast, or we starve."

He would make her allow him to make up for the inconvenience, whether she liked it or not.

"Where is your maid?"

"I gave her permission to spend the holiday with her family. My uncle has more than enough servants if I need assistance."

She was in need of assistance now, not that Leopold would mention such to her as he would not embarrass her. He also liked her mussed appearance. The traveling dress was wrinkled for having slept in it three nights in a row and each side of her golden hair had been braided and pulled away from her face and tied with a now limp ribbon behind her head with the rest of her hair tumbling down her back.

Bethany stood, shook out her gown then frowned. Lastly, she blew out a sigh. "I shall return."

After Bethany saw to her most urgent concerns in the necessary behind the inn, she requested a tray brought to the chamber. She'd not allowed a servant from the inn to enter the chamber since they had first arrived, but she didn't want to remain in the common room where people dined, or even in the taproom for a tray of foodstuffs to be given to her.

Not only had she been horrified at her appearance when she caught her reflection in the mirror, but the whispers from the others gathered at tables disturbed her.

How could anyone know who she was or the guest recuperating above stairs?

Except, Claybrook was a duke, a title that invited speculation and gossip.

As she turned to return up the stairs a man stepped into her path. Bethany quickly stepped backward.

"I understand you are the one seeing to the care of the Duke of Claybrook."

She would not answer a stranger's question. Anonymity was necessary in this situation, or she risked being ruined.

"Lady Bethany, this is the Constable Merryweather," the maid offered as she came forward.

Bethany didn't think this hamlet was large enough to employ a constable. They did not even have a shop that provided clothing for the male residents.

"From Gravesend," he added as if he had read her thoughts.

She took in the information but said nothing as she was not going to confirm that Claybrook was here.

"A few of our less respectable Gravesend residents attempted to sell a Cabriolet," he offered. "These two could not even buy an ale to share, but turned up in fine, though ill-fitting clothing, which drew suspicion, and I was asked by the magistrate to discover how they came by such a vehicle, which led me here."

"What did you do with the men?" she asked.

"Nothing, as of yet. We have no proof that they didn't find the cabriolet, horse and clothing abandoned in the wood as they claimed."

Bethany nearly snorted. "As if such would be left behind."

"Unless the owner died," the constable commented, and she supposed that was a possibility.

"Is the Duke of Claybrook here and might I have a word with him?" the constable asked.

"I will take you up to him. I am about to deliver his morning meal," the maid answered.

"You will do no such thing," Bethany argued and took the tray from the girl. "If you will excuse me."

She turned her back and marched up the stairs. She would not say a word to the constable, nor did she wish the comely maid to be in the chamber with Claybrook while he was naked in bed.