A Rogues Proposal (Cynster 4)

After a moment, he said rather woodenly, "Indeed not, ma'am."

At least he'd remembered to address her as ma'am.

"Come, Giles-we must speak to the innkeeper immediately!" Gesturing dramatically toward the inn's main doors, she picked up her skirts and led the way. Her feminine tones, carrying a hint of imminent distress, had caused more than a few heads to turn, but, as she'd anticipated, the inn boys, responding to her dramatic flair, bustled close, eager to be part of whatever scene was to follow; together with the recently christened Giles, they cleared a path for her to the inn door.

Beyond the door lay a wide reception area fronted by a long counter presently manned by three harassed individuals-the innkeeper, his wife, and his brother. The length of the counter was packed with men-Flick could only catch glimpses of those behind it. Between her and the counter ranged a wall of male shoulders.

It had been years since she'd visited The Angel, but Flick recognized the innkeeper and made a beeline for him, giving wordless thanks when his sharp-eyed wife was called to deal with a customer at the counter's other end. The helpful inn boys, seeing that she'd be swamped, sent up a shout, waving her bag high. "Make way for the lady."

Flick could have kissed them.

Gentlemen's heads turned at the mention of a lady; as they took in her dark cloak and veil, those in her path politely stepped back. Between the inn boys and Gillies, she was conducted to the counter; as she fronted it, however, her escort deferentially stepped back, leaving her surrounded by gentlemen.

All of whom were studying her rather speculatively.

The innkeeper blinked at her; his expression one of concern, he asked, "Aye, ma'am?"

Flick took her courage in both hands.

"Kind sir"-her voice hinted at a quaver-"I have just arrived in your fair town only to discover this crowd before me." Setting her bi

g black reticule on the counter before her, she clasped her hands tight about it so the innkeeper could not miss the huge square-cut topaz she wore on one gloved finger. It was not an expensive stone, but it was impressive in size and style; the innkeeper's eyes duly widened. Casting an agitated glance about her, she declared, "I have already travelled far this day-I cannot go further. My horses, too…" She let the words fade, as if the situation threatened to overwhelm her.

Turning back to the innkeeper, looking into his face, she imploringly put out a hand. "Oh, dear sir, please say you have one more room left for me?"

Her plea caused a hush.

The innkeeper pursed his lips. "Hmm." Brow furrowing, he drew his ledger closer and made a great show of scanning his lists of rooms, all of which Flick knew must already be taken.

Tapping his pencil, he glanced up at her. "Just you, is it, ma'am?"

Flick drew a deep breath. "Yes." She made the word sound very small, very weak. "I…" She drew in another breath and clasped her fingers more tightly on the reticule; the facets of the topaz flashed. "I was recently widowed-well, it's been six months, now, I suppose-I've been travelling… for my health, you understand."

She delivered the words in a slightly breathless rush, with what she hoped was just the right degree of feminine fragility. The innkeeper's lips formed a silent Oh, then he nodded and looked down.

Exceedingly glad of her veil, Flick glanced about; the innkeeper's eyes were not the only ones in which calculation gleamed.

"I say, Hodges," one of her neighbors drawled, "you'll have to find a room for the lady-can't possibly send her out into the night."

A deep rumble of assent rose on all sides.

"For the honor of Bury St. Edmunds, if nothing else," some other helpful soul put in.

The innkeeper, who was now scrubbing out and rewriting names on his lists, threw them a distracted frown. That didn't please some of his more arrogant customers. "Aside from the town's honor, what about this house's honor?" Directing a too-smooth smile her way, one rakish buck leaned on the counter. "Surely, Hodges, old chap," he drawled, "you wouldn't want it known that you're the sort of innkeep who turns away helpless widows?"

Flick gritted her teeth and suppressed an impulse to deliver a swift kick to the buck's nearby shin; Hodges was now scowling.

Luckily, he was scowling at the buck. "No need to take that tone, m'lord. I've found the lady a nice room-I hope I know my duty."

He shut his ledger with a snap. Turning, he reached for a key hanging with a full score of others on a board behind the counter. To Flick's consternation, all the gentlemen around her leaned forward, squinting at the board to read the number of her room!

She had, she realized, just saddled herself with a large number of champions, some of whom might be entertaining notions of a reward.

But as the innkeeper turned with a key dangling in his hand, she was too relieved to worry.

"If you'll just come this way, ma'am?" He waved to the end of the counter, to where a wide staircase led upward. Then he turned to the waiting crowd. "You gentlemen won't mind biding your time until I get the lady settled."

It wasn't a question. Grinning behind her veil, Flick glided to the staircase. Hodges, despite being a resident of Bury St. Edmunds, was clearly up to snuff.