Garrow’s face turned ugly, and he came after his wife with clenched hands.
Aline stepped in front of the child.
“Damme, you will learn who is master!” Garrow snarled.
Harry leapt down the stairs, his first intention merely to protect Meg if necessary. However, he reached the foot of the stairs just as Garrow lurched past, and some devilment made him stick out his foot.
Garrow tripped over it and sprawled his length on the floor. Quick as thought, Harry stepped over him and smacked his groggily raised head hard onto the board. He stopped moving.
“Oh, well done, Harry!” Meg exclaimed unexpectedly. “What a perfectly dreadful man!” Then she flushed and turned to Aline. “I beg your pardon, ma’am, but indeed he was uncivil, and I hope you don’t mind too much that he—er…fell.”
The lady smiled dazzlingly. “Not in the least. We are eternally grateful.” At last, she looked directly at Harry. “Well, well, the dashing Captain Harry to the rescue. What a stunning coincidence. At least for poor Garrow.”
Since she held out one languid hand to him, there was little he could do but go to her and bow over her fingers. Meg watched the proceedings, suddenly wary. As she should have been, for no one was supposed to know they were here.
“Mrs. Garrow, I apprehend?” He made it a question.
The lady sighed. “I know. A mistake, but what can one do? He is much more amiable when sober. Allow me to present my son, Basil, the child of my previous sadly departed husband.”
Basil grinned at him and pointed to the unmoving Garrow. “Is he asleep there?”
Garrow emitted a huge snore as though in response.
“Yes,” Harry said.
“Silly man,” Basil pronounced. Then his hand crept back into his mother’s. “He won’t wake up, will he?”
“Not until he’s better,” Aline said. She regarded Harry. “How long do you think?”
“Who knows?” Harry replied. “But if I might make a suggestion, we should carry him up to one of the bedchambers and lock him in until he sleeps it off.”
“Excellent idea,” Aline approved. “I shall tell him he merely fell over his own feet and struck his head.”
“If I were you,” Meg said frankly, “I would not be here when he wakes. Take your coach and your little boy and let him fend for himself.”
Aline stared at her, then laughed. “Do you know, I believe I might? Captain, introduce me to your charming companion. Is this Lady Harry?”
Since Mrs. Travis had hurried through from the back with her husband and a male servant, Harry said hastily, “Indeed. Meg, this is Mrs. Garrow, whom I first met in Spain some years ago.”
“Join us for breakfast,” Meg invited.
Harry cast her a quick glance of warning, but he could hardly withdraw the invitation. It was like Meg to look after people, and she had no way of knowing the dangers presented by Aline Garrow.
“Give me a hand here,” he said cheerfully to the innkeeper, bending to Garrow. “Put him in my chamber unless you have one further back from your guests. I’d lock him in if I were you, just in case he comes to. Don’t let him out until he’s slept it off.”
“I’ll be arrested!” the innkeeper objected, taking Garrow’s feet. “I can’t go around imprisoning people!”
Hefting Garrow between them, they began to carry him upstairs.
“Unlock the door while he’s asleep. He’s in no state to remember any of this clearly. Any word of my curricle?”
*
Meg swept the beautiful Mrs. Garrow and her child into the parlor and settled them at the table where Mrs. Travis had already laid out cold beef, bread, and coffee.
“We cannot eat your breakfast, my lady!” Mrs. Garrow protested.
Was that the faintest hint of French in her accent? “Mrs. Travis will bring more,” Meg assured her. “You must both be starving if you have traveled all night. Do you like coffee, Mrs. Garrow? Or shall I send for tea?”
“Coffee is just the thing.” Mrs. Garrow accepted the cup and saucer from Meg with a quick smile and sipped gratefully before setting it down beside her and helping Basil to bread and butter and a little beef. “You are very kind to strangers.”
“No friend of Harry’s is a stranger,” Meg said lightly. “So, you met in Spain?”
“Our paths crossed once or twice. He dances divinely, as you know!”
Meg blinked. Divinely was not the word she would have used, though, of course, he had been a fun and lively partner on the few occasions they had met as adults at balls.
“Though I admit I did not expect quite such—um… enthusiastic assistance,” Mrs. Garrow added.
“I hope,” Meg said, trying to pick her words with care, “such occurrences are not usual in your life.”
Mrs. Garrow smiled and shook her head. “Basil and I fell asleep in the coach. I didn’t realize he was drinking until it was too late. I insisted on coming here, off the beaten track, as it were, to avoid embarrassment. I did not want him around my son in that condition, let alone making…advances.”
Meg flushed slightly, mostly with indignation, for although the lady was vague and just a little affected in her speech and mannerisms, there was a quiet truth in her last statement.
“Most of the time,” Mrs. Garrow said, “I take excellent care of myself and my son. It seems I relaxed too far, but thanks to you and your husband, I shall come about.”
Mrs. Travis came in then with dishes of bacon and eggs, and Harry strolled in behind her.
“He woke up and mumbled,” Harry informed Mrs. Garrow once they were alone. “And went straight back to sleep.”
“Good. You are my hero once more, Captain.”
Again, Meg felt that twinge which felt horribly like jealousy—of a shared past she knew nothing about. A suspected intimacy she did not like at all.
“Not at all,” Harry said politely. “I’ve always wanted to see Garrow fall flat on his face.”
“Why?” Meg asked.
“Don’t like the fellow,” Harry replied frankly.
Meg frowned at him. “Should you say so in front of his wife?”
“Probably not,” Harry admitted, though without obvious sorrow. “I hope you will hold me excused, ma’am.”
“Excused and lauded,” Mrs. Garrow said at once. She appeared to have little loyalty to her husband. In the circumstances, this was not, perhaps, surprising, but it bothered Meg. The lady’s gaze moved between them. “But tell me, what brings you to such an out-of-the-way inn?”
“It’s a shortcut,” Harry explained. “Or at least it was meant to be before the wretched roads damaged our wheel.”
“How annoying! You mean you are trapped here?”
“Only for another few hours.” Harry glanced at Meg. “The wheel is not yet ready.”
“Then I may return your kindness and offer you seats in my carriage,” Mrs. Garrow said in apparent delight. “There is plenty of room without my husband.”
“How good you are,” Meg said at once. “But we could not take you out of your way.”
“Well, I could at least take you to the next posting inn, where you might hire a chaise,” Mrs. Garrow offered. “But where are you bound? We were on our way to Calvert Court, though since I am not acquainted with her ladyship…” She broke off, intercepting Meg’s startled glance at Harry. “What is it?”