Octavian kept her close as they made their way through the crowd, but as they neared the one of the refreshment stands, Octavian realized the line was impossibly long. “We’ll be standing her into the night. Anyway, I’m not just thirsty but hungry, too. Shall we grab a meal at the inn before I meet with Laird Armstrong?”
“All right. Yes, let’s get out of this crush.”
The day was not particularly warm, but no one felt the light chill in the air because there were too many bodies in close proximity producing sweat and heat. Nor could he and Syd avoid the odors carried on the breeze since they were standing downwind of the ale tent and the animal pens.
He now led her back to the inn where they were staying for tonight, as well. It was too close to the fairgrounds for his liking, but there was not a spare room to be had elsewhere in Melrose or within twenty miles of the town. They were fortunate that a sudden departure had opened the room for them.
Bribes were not uncommon when rooms were this scarce, but the innkeeper appeared to be an honest man and did not charge them extra. As Syd was quick to point out upon their arrival, no one would dare cheat him since he was the brother of the Duke of Huntsford. “Yer brother is known in these parts, Captain Thorne. He’s an excellent man. Excellent. Ye just call upon me for anything ye or yer wife need. Aye, His Grace is an excellent man.”
Octavian grumbled a bit as the man had gushed about Ambrose. Yes, he was a good brother and marvelous man. But he and Julius had worked hard to stand on their own and make something of themselves. However, in instances such as this, he knew better than to allow his pride to stand in the way. There was nothing wrong with occasionally taking advantage of the privileges afforded because of one’s connections.
The inn, being in such close proximity to the fairgrounds and having an excellent common room, was packed to the rafters. “Blast, let me see if there is a private dining room to be had. Wait here, Syd. I’ll be right back.”
Although she had mighty opinions, she herself was not all that big and could not possibly make her way through a throng as tightly packed as this one was.
She surveyed the room and nodded. “All right. Hurry back.”
“I will, love.” He left her standing at the entrance and brusquely shouldered his way through the mob of diners, many of whom were already unruly and drunk. The wooden floorboards were slippery in some places and sticky in others from all the ale sloshed onto them.
Octavian marveled at the ability of the inn’s maids to avoid the outstretched hands and crude advances of several louts who tried to pinch their bottoms or draw them onto their laps as the maids sailed past them. These ladies managed to smoothly dart and dodge between these men while carrying large trays piled high with food for their hungry guests.
This was how he hoped these newly designed navy warships would maneuver at sea, swiftly able to change course, shifting left or right with ease, and agile enough to sail between enemy ships and blast them with their cannons.
He laughed at the idea of comparing these able maids to first rate battleships. The designs for those ships had been in the works for years. They were now drawn and ready to be realized. He was to spend the next few years traveling from shipyard to shipyard to oversee their construction.
He shook out of the thought.
The immediate problem was getting food for him and Syd, and obtaining a quiet place for them to dine.
The harried innkeeper had little time for him just now, but a few coins placed in his gnarled fingers quickly did the trick. There was only one dish served to the crowd, a hearty stew with bits of whatever meat and vegetables remained in the inn’s larder. “We’ve been so busy because of the fair,” the innkeeper explained, “that our kitchen ran out of our usual fare hours ago.”
“Bring us whatever you have,” he said, shouting to be heard above the noise. “And drinks, too. Ale for me and cider for my wife.”
He then tossed the man another coin before shoving his way through the crowd to return to Syd. His heart shot into his throat when he reached the entrance to the common room and could not find her. “Syd! Syd!”
Calling her name was useless since noisy crowds were everywhere inside and out in front of the inn. He walked down the street in search of her. People chattered, musicians played, couples were dancing. He asked a few older ladies seated on a bench if they had seen Syd walk by.
“No, captain.”
He returned to the inn, his path interrupted by drunks who were roaring with laughter, and a few others who were fighting among themselves. Fortunately, they were too wasted to actually land any solid blows against each other, and one of them passed out at his feet.
Things would only get worse as night fell.
Where was Syd?
He tore up to their room, but she wasn’t there.
He ran back downstairs and finally saw her in the small yard behind the inn, surrounded by a group of angry Scots. “Botheration, what did you do now, Syd?” he muttered and hastened outside. The group surrounding her were all men, and some of them had drawn their dirks. “Lord, give me strength,” he prayed under his breath and walked out.
That giant chip Syd carried on her shoulder was going to get her into serious trouble one of these days.
He hoped today was not the day.
Blessed saints.
What had she said to get these Scots so riled?
CHAPTER 15
