lucky, three if the weather turns or the roads are bad.’ He regarded her expressionlessly. ‘You think I am being profligate with your money. We have enough to get … to get home and then you will have nothing to worry about.’
Kat looked mutinous as Nick took her arm and steered her firmly towards the inn door. ‘See how you fare trying to get lodgings at a smart inn like this,’ she hissed. ‘You are wearing a coachman’s clothes, driving an old-fashioned coach yourself—we will be lucky to be given a garret if they are busy.’
Being turned away was the least of Nick’s worries at that moment; being welcomed with open arms was more of a threat. ‘House!’ He strode forward into the entrance to intercept a tall, heavily built man who hurried forward, wiping his hands on a voluminous white apron.
‘Excuse me, sir, I was just in the tap and didn’t see you come in.’ He broke off and stared at Nick in the shadowy hall. ‘My …’ His voice trailed away.
‘Your inn was recommended to me,’ Nick said, cutting across the rest of the sentence. He kept his back to Kat and gestured with his hand. The abrupt signal was enough; old Summerhays was no fool. He managed with aplomb to suppress his surprise at seeing a man who had vanished six years ago.
‘I require a room for my sister and her maid and one for myself and my man. Just the one night, if you please, landlord.’
Summerhays nodded briskly, concealing entirely natural speculation about exactly where Nicholas Lydgate might have acquired a sister. ‘Yes, sir. And a private parlour, sir?’
‘Of course.’
The innkeeper turned to summon a boy to take their bags. ‘Here, lad, the two rooms at the side with the parlour, and then get Molly to bring some hot water up for the lady.’
‘You had better go up,’ Nick turned to Kat. ‘I will bespeak some dinner for you.’
Kat paused with one foot on the step. ‘For me? Are you not hungry?’
‘John and I will be going out to dine. I will see you in the morning.’
‘Out? While Jenny and I are cooped up for yet another interminable evening? I want to come too!’
‘That would not be suitable,’ Nick said smoothly, taking her arm again and turning her firmly back to the stairs. ‘Not suitable at all. Now run along, Kat, while I speak to the landlord.’ She might be furious now—she would be even more angry if she overheard the conversation that was about to take place.
‘You …’ Katherine subsided, fuming, and marched upstairs with her chin up and her back rigid. This was not the place to make a scene. Not suitable indeed. They were probably planning to visit some low ale houses or a cock fight. Perhaps even acquire some friendly female companionship.
‘Mr Lydgate’s very forceful, is he not?’ Jenny observed as the door closed on the pot boy.
‘That is not the word I would choose,’ Katherine retorted. ‘Arrogant and overbearing would fit better. How he managed to keep his pride in check and his tongue between his teeth during two years as a trooper I cannot imagine.’ Her voice softened. ‘But he was wonderful when we were held up—so resourceful and quick thinking.’
‘What happened in the coach? You know, when you were hugging him and your dress was half off?’
‘Jenny! It was not half off, simply somewhat low. And I was only embracing him in relief, nothing more. Nothing happened at all in the coach. I put myself to rights and he brooded as though the cat had got his tongue.’
‘Probably worrying about what sort of reception he’s going to get when he reaches home,’ Jenny said sympathetically.
‘If we have enough money to get there after tonight’s extravagances. I suppose the only consolation is that they do not have enough money to get seriously drunk on.’ Katherine unpinned her hair and began to brush it out.
Jenny, who was lifting night things from the valise, looked up with a grin. ‘John took his savings out from under the floorboard in the kitchen before we left. They’ve enough to give themselves sore heads in the morning, I’ll be bound.’
Whatever the state of the men’s heads come breakfast time, Katherine’s was throbbing with the effects of a restless night and worry. It would be simply too feeble to give way to all the anxieties racking her; she had too much self-control to take out her feelings on her maid and her husband appeared set on staying well out of her way.
When she emerged, blinking irritably, into the morning sunlight after breakfast, it was to find the luggage strapped on and John just giving Jenny a hand to climb up on to the box.
‘Jenny! What are you doing?’
‘I thought I’d have some fresh air again, Miss Katherine, if that’s all right with you,’ the maid responded with a wink and a jerk of her head towards the door where Nick could just be glimpsed paying their shot. ‘I enjoyed it yesterday.’
‘Oh! Oh, well, all right Jenny. You are looking a little pale.’
Footsteps behind her approached and halted at the sight of John and Jenny already on the box. Katherine bit her lip to suppress her laughter and waited.
‘I will drive, John.’
‘Begging your pardon sir, but I get sick in the stomach if I travel in a closed coach. Always have to sit on top when I take the stage, sir. Miss Katherine wouldn’t like it, sir. And Jenny’s got a headache again, like yesterday.’
Katherine could feel the icy stare behind her and watched appreciatively as John looked bland and Jenny gazed round the yard, apparently entranced by what the stable boys were up to.
‘Very well.’ Katherine stepped up to the coach and waited modestly to be handed into it. She kept her eyes down to hide the amusement in them and waited for what Nick would say next.
Nothing, appeared to be the answer. She flickered an upward glance through her lashes and saw him regarding the passing street scene from under lowered brows. Her amusement died as irritation returned.
‘Why are you avoiding me?’ she asked abruptly.
That seized his attention at least. The dark eyes fixed hers and she saw a flash of anger in their depths. ‘I am not avoiding you, Kat. I could not leave John to drive day after day.’
‘And you could not be bothered to speak to me in the evenings?’
‘Bothered?’ Nick’s face cleared and he leaned over and took both her hands in his. Her pulse fluttered and raced. ‘It was not that, Kat; I am sorry if it seemed so. I have been … preoccupied and not good company. And you looked tired.’
As he said it, Nick realised that telling any woman that she looked tired was not a remark likely to pacify her. The hands he had trapped in his stiffened, her chin rose and the pansy-brown eyes hardened.
‘I can assure you that I have felt nothing more than the usual slight fatigue to be expected after sitting for hours on end in an uncomfortable coach. Certainly nothing that would have prevented me holding a conversation.’
Rebuked, he fell back on part of the truth. ‘This is an unconventional journey, I thought it wiser to keep my distance during it. After all, you are a well-bred young lady; I imagine that a long journey in the enforced company of a man would not be to your liking. Especially as we have been staying in inns that are not of the first respectability.’ Except last night. That had been a risk. Kat was going to find out the truth soon; he acknowledged that he was not looking forward to her realisation of just what she had married into.
‘You are my husband,’ she pointed out, her eyes downcast. Nick regarded her narrowly, unable to read her mood.
‘For a few weeks only,’ he reminded her and was unprepared for the flash of anger in her eyes as she looked up.
‘So what you really mean, and are tactfully circling round, is that it is better