Hiding Rose (Saved By Desire 5)

“I can’t go back to live with my parents. Not now. But then, I don’t need to,” she sighed. “My parents won’t care. Even if they do, I am going to be miles away. Besides, I am a woman of means. I don’t need their permission to live any more. I can do this. I can make decisions for myself now. It can’t be any worse than being at Chadwick’s mercy.”

If I can face that and survive I can face anything she mused.

The only seemingly insurmountable hurdle she knew she had no way around at the moment was that she had absolutely no money with which to purchase anything. Therefore, she had no way of buying a post chaise ticket anywhere. Nor could she purchase food, or another change of clothing, or any accommodation for that matter. The money she had in the bank in Bude might as well not exist given all the use it was to her right now. She had to find a way to get hold of it.

“Think like Barnaby,” she murmured aloud as she tried to put herself in his shoes.

He would purloin whatever he needed somehow, and arrange recompense as soon as he was able. Could she do that too? She hated the thought of what would happen to her if she got caught. If someone did see her and haul her in front of the magistrate she could hardly admit that she was helping herself to something that didn’t belong to her to avoid someone in a government organisation. But, if someone did see her and she had to face the ignomy of being sent to gaol, she could send word to Barnaby or the War Office. They would send someone to retrieve her, wouldn’t they?

“I can only hope they wouldn’t send Barnaby,” she sighed. The last thing she wanted to do was face him again.

“I can’t stay so I have to go,” she declared after several moments of thoughtful silence. “I must. But where am I to go?”

She watched houses roll past the window and frowned when she realised they were slowing down. Leaning forward, she peered out of the window. They were in a town; a rather large town.

“It will have a coaching office here,” she muttered as she studied the row of shops lining the main street. “Food. Drink. Accommodation. Everything a person could want.”

Rose had no idea how much a ticket south would be but if she could get to Bude, she could go to the bank and get her hands on her money. She could decide where to go and what to do from there.

“Bude it is then,” she mused, quickly blocking out the niggling doubts that urged her to stay with Barnaby’s colleagues.

Before she could change her mind, Rose tapped on the roof of the carriage.

“Are you alright?” Reg called down to her.

Rose slid the window down.

“No, I feel sick. Can we stop somewhere? I need to get out of this carriage for a while. My head is spinning.” She hated having to lie to them. They were only there to keep her safe, but she had to do this.

Sitting back in the seat she waited patiently for the men to pull the carriage into the large yard of a coaching inn and alighted with a theatrical sigh of relief.

“I am sorry to put you to so much trouble but I feel so queasy. I just need to take some air for a little while, and maybe visit the ladies’ retiring room and then I will be fine.” The look of concern on the men’s faces almost undid her, but she squared her shoulders and disappeared inside without a backward look.

Once in the ladies retiring room, Rose pondered what to do next. She was empty handed and had nothing with which to even purchase a drink. Nor could she figure out a way to get her hands on some money. What could she do now? She hated to admit defeat when she had only managed to achieve only a few feet of freedom but had no idea what to do. When no inspiration was forthcoming, she knew she couldn’t do this by herself. She had no wherewithal to fall upon to even consider what her options were. Her life before Barnaby had truly been closeted and had left her with little experience to fall upon. There was no option but to go outside, climb back into the carriage, and have her life taken completely out of her hands – again.

When she reached the busy tap room, Rose’s departure was delayed by an elderly lady holding several small, yapping dogs. She watched as the woman crooned soothingly to her spoilt pooches and then snapped brisk orders to a harried looking maid and the inn keeper as she attempted to bustle her amble girth, and the dogs, out of the tavern doorway. The ensuing melee was noisy, boisterous, and resulted in the woman pushing her way forcefully through the door, dragging her bag, dogs, and the inn keeper behind her.

In the chaotic confusion, Rose watched something flutter to the ground and bent down to pick it up as the woman stalked regally across the yard to her waiting coach. Aware that the woman hadn’t noticed she had dropped the small square strip of paper, Rose held it aloft with the intention of calling her, but then looked down at what she was holding.

“It’s a ticket,” she whispered aloud. “It’s a ticket south.”

Her stomach flipped. She looked up at a flurry of movement beside her.

“Please?” she asked of the inn keeper as he ran back into the tavern. “When does this coach depart?”

“About now, but you had best be quick,” the inn keeper warned her.

Rose raced out of the inn, hesitating only briefly to glance over at Reg and Ben, who were deep in conversation on the other side of the yard.

“Inside,” the coachman ordered her when he had checked her ticket.

Rose quickly clambered aboard and had no sooner shut the door than the carriage lumbered into motion. Shaking with trepidation at what lay before her, Rose watched the yard of the coaching inn disappear.

“What the Hell do you mean you have lost her?” Barnaby bellowed, his face puce with rage. Panic suffused him as he glared hatefully at a sheepish looking Reg.

“We asked the inn keeper where she was and searched the place but she had gone. There was nobody else around, we checked,” Reg reported.

“She can’t have just bloody disappeared,” Barnaby snarled.