“Ungrateful little wretch,” he said, turning back to check on his coachman’s progress. The inn’s door opened, and the coachman waved them inside. “Come on.”
And then the dratted man grabbed her again and yanked her after him through the inn, up the stairs, and into a room where the innkeeper held a door open. Josie felt like a child’s doll, only not so well pampered.
It was a small, plain room with only a bed, a small table, and a rickety chair. Westman finally released her and then proceeded to prowl the room, checking every corner and eve. She sank down on the chair, prepared for a long stay. He looked as though he had every intention of barricading the doors and window when the search was over.
“I think we’re safe,” she said when he looked under the tiny, low bed for a third time. “No one is here but us.”
“Just making sure.” He turned the bed’s sheets and peered under them. “There might be more of them.”
“More of them? I’m sure there are criminals and vagabonds all over the countryside. We were just unlucky enough to interrupt two of them today. And since we didn’t go after them, they’re free to hurt someone else tomorrow.”
He straightened from his search and looked at her. “Is that what you thought those men were? Vagabonds?”
“Horse thieves, perhaps,” she said, after a minute of thought. “The horses in the paddock were unattended. Maybe they thought to steal them.”
“Or maybe they thought to blow your head off so they wouldn’t have to share the treasure with you.”
Josie gaped at him. “Treasure? What does this have to do with the treasure?”
“Everything. Since I left London—hell, even before that—I had the feeling we were being watched. Followed.”
“You never said anything.”
He pulled a handkerchief from his coat and handed it to her. When she looked at it blankly, he dabbed her cheek with it. She winced at the sting and then allowed his touch.
“I was being paranoid enough without making you suspicious, too,” he said quietly, his breath on her cheek. “And those men. I know you didn’t get a good look at them, but one of them looked familiar. I can’t place it. Something about his face.”
“Westman, really, I don’t think—”
And then something struck her. When the men had shot the first time, and she’d fallen to the grass, one had asked the other, “Did ye hit her?”
Her.
She was still wearing her boy’s clothing and with her hair tucked up in a hat, which she had lost in the scuffle with Westman but which she had been wearing when she first emerged from the carriage, she looked like a young boy. From that distance, the men could not have possibly guessed she was a girl.
Unless they knew who she was
Unless they were searching for her and Westman.
“What is it?” he asked, watching her closely.
Her head snapped up. “We have to go after them. We can’t let them get to the treasure before we do.”
She was up and on her way to the door, but Westman was faster. He stepped in front of it, blocking her way. “Slow down, Miss Impatient. They went through the woods, and they’re armed. Even if we both had pistols and could shoot, I’d want a dozen men before I went off tracking two men who have a hundred places in which to hide, take aim, and fire.”
“But the treasure—”
“Is safe. We have the map. That’s what they’re after. It has to be. Shoot us and steal it, and they’re on their way.”
Josie shook her head. “But no one knows about the treasure. No one knows we found the map.”
Westman stepped back, paced across the floor, and considered. Josie slid away from the door and sat on the bed, watching him pace. “We should make a list of everyone who knows about the treasure and our search,” she said.
“Exactly.” He paused at the edge of the table. “There’s your cousin Miss Brittany and Lord and Lady Valentine. I assume you told them in order to procure their carriage.”
“Yes, but they wouldn’t ever—”
“We’re not blaming anyone. Then your cousin, Lady Madeleine. Does she know?”
