Part 16 (2/2)
”Oh!--it's you, Mr Lester.” The groom touched his cap.
”That's all right and tight, then. Ma'am.” With another tug of his cap, the groom retreated into the tack room.
Lucinda blinked, then shot a glance at Harry.
”Is it always so ordered? So...” She waved at the loose boxes, each with their half-doors shut.
”So exact?” ”Yes.” Harry looked down at her as she stopped beside him.
”I stable my carriage horses here--you may rest a.s.sured of the quality in that respect.”
”I see.” Deeming all queries on the equine side of business satisfied, Lucinda turned her attention to the inn proper.
Ushered through the main door, she looked with approval on half-panelled walls, well-polished and glowing mellowly. Suns.h.i.+ne reflected from crisply whitewashed walls; stray beams danced across the flagged floor.
Mr Jenkins, the innkeeper, a neat, rotund person of genial when, bustled up.
Harry performed the introductions, then stood patiently by while Lucinda explained her purpose. Unlike Blount, Mr Jenkins was all gratified helpfulness.
Lucinda turned to Harry.
”My business with Mr Jenkins will keep me busy for at least an hour. I wouldn't for the world impose on your kindness, Mr Lester--you've already done so much. And I can hardly come to harm within the inn.”
Harry didn't blink. For her, the Arms played host to a panapoly of dangers--namely his peers. Meeting her innocent gaze with an impenetrable blandness, he waved a languid hand.
”Indeed--but my horses don't run until later.”
Which comment, he noted, brought a flash to her eyes. She hesitated, then, somewhat stiffly, acquiesced, inclining her head before turning back to Mr Jenkins. Wearing patience like a halo, Harry followed his host and his aunt's guest about the old inn, through rambling pa.s.sageways and storerooms, to bedchambers and even to the garrets. They were returning down an upper corridor when a man came blundering out of a room.
Lucinda, opposite the door, started; glimpsing the man from the corner of her eye, she braced herself for a collision. Instead, she was bodily set aside; the chubby young gentleman ran full tilt into a hard shoulder. He bounced off, crumpling against the door frame. ”Out!” Straightening, the man blinked.
”Oh--h.e.l.lo, Lester. Slept in, don't y'know. Can't miss the first race.” He blinked again, a puz? led frown forming in his eyes.
”Thought you'd be at the track by now.”
”Later.” Harry stepped back, revealing Lucinda.
The young man blinked again.
”Oh--ah, yes. Terribly sorry, ma'am--always being told I should look where I'm going. No harm done, I hope?”
Lucinda smiled at the ingenuous apology.
”No-- none.” Thanks to her protector.
”Good-oh! I'd best be on my way, then. See you at the track, Lester
With an awkward bow and a cheery wave, the youthful sprig hurried off.
<script>