“I hope you didn’t pay much for this,” she muttered.
He grinned. “You’re becoming a shrew, love. Considering she wanted to evict us promptly—morality can be so fleeting at times—we’re damned lucky to have it. If you can stomach vinegar, you’ll enjoy the wine.”
The upstairs room at the back of the inn wasn’t much better, Celia discovered, but at least the bed had clean linens and an honest mattress instead of a straw-stuffed sack. It felt awkward, standing in the middle of the small room with no fire in the empty grate, drafts seeping through cracks around the window as she shivered.
“I see we must pay extra for a fire,” Colter observed, and moved to the window to peer out. “At least the view is free. I trust you like pigs.”
“You’re in a fine humor for a man who fled London in the middle of the night,” she said sourly. “I’ve had little enough sleep, but you’ve had none.”
“I’m used to it. Soldiers in the field rarely sleep long or well.”
“Oh, yes, I’d forgotten that you’re a war hero.” She sat on the edge of the bed; it creaked slightly beneath her weight. “You’ve no doubt done more than your share of lying awake plotting your next massacre.”
Colter turned from the window to look at her, and in the gray light through dingy panes, his expression was unreadable. “Yes,” he said softly, “I have. Not just in France, but in the Americas, too.”
Arrested by his tension, she sat with her foot pulled across her knee, the slipper she’d just removed still in her hand. He looked ruthless. The facade of the past days was just that, a thin veneer disguising a man capable of killing and more. How had she forgotten, even for a moment?
That day on the Kentish coast she’d seen the fierce light in his eyes, the reckless deviltry in his face when he had taken a loaded pistol and searched for the men who had shot at them. She had known at once that he was accustomed to danger, thrived on it.
The slipper dropped from her hand and she bent to retrieve it. When she straightened, he was staring out the window again, as trickles of rain made silvery paths on the thick leaded glass.
“Stay inside,” he said without turning to look at her, “and get some rest. I’ll be back later.”
There was no use asking where he was going. He wouldn’t tell her, she knew that.
And God help me, I don’t think I want to know.…
23
A cold rain came down in a fine mist like a cobweb; sticky moisture clung to his hair and face as Colter moved toward the line of stables behind the i
nn. They were as ramshackle as the half-timbered inn, with the same thatched roof. Beneath his coat he carried two pistols stuck into the waist of his trousers, both primed with dry powder.
Detaching from the deeper shadows at the back of the stable, a man he recognized approached across the littered yard, sidestepping steaming piles of horse manure.
“You’ve been followed,” Tyler said abruptly, and jerked his head toward the north. “Bow Street Runners.”
“Are they close?” Colter stepped beneath the overhang of the livery stable.
“Not yet. They will be. These men aren’t the regular Runners, but hired by Leverton.”
“It would be interesting to know how they found us. See what you can learn.”
Nodding, Tyler glanced around the nearly empty yard. He frowned and looked uneasy. “I think I may already know.”
“Mowry.”
Tyler looked startled, but nodded. “He’s the only man I told of your plans.”
“I’ll deal with him later. Was the map found?”
“Her room had been ransacked, and the maid swears she knows nothing about it. Ruthven is finding out what he can, and there’s to be another meeting in a few days. If the log is in their hands, Carlisle might betray himself.”
“Were Celia’s assailants found? No, I didn’t think they would be. I thought I’d killed at least one of them, but the body could have been removed before it was found. Christ, there was no need for Carlisle to attack her. She’d planned to send back the directory the next day, and had just told him so.”
“He gave her the map aboard the Liberty because he knew you were watching him and wanted to get it off the ship. He looked to be unpleasantly surprised to discover that she knew you.” Tyler leaned back against the wall, eyes narrowed in thought. “It could be that he was afraid you’d get to it first and figure out what it means.”
“Maybe. But there’s something about this entire affair that doesn’t quite fit. Celia’s had the map since arriving three months ago. Why wait this long to go after it?”