A Scotsman's Promise

Chapter 24 (part 2)

"I wouldn't unpack," Calen told Micara, not needing to explain himself because of the obvious state of the room. Cara nodded in agreement; none of her belongings would be touching any part of this room.

"I'll go see to our supper, we wouldn't want our friendly innkeeper to misplace our meals as he did our payment. I'll wait for ye downstairs if ye want to freshen up or rest a bit."

Cara nodded again. She doubted she would be able to rest at all in this room, but she did want the opportunity to scrub the travel grime from her face.

A loud noise met their ears when Calen opened the door, followed by an angry voice. It sounded as though the previous occupant of their room had been informed of his eviction. Cara gave Calen an apprehensive look.

"I'm sure it will be fine," he assured her unconvincingly.

Cara was sure of no such thing, but she did not argue with him as he left, closing the door tightly behind him.

Cara felt unprotected standing alone in the strange room. She was uneasy about the whole situation. She would have preferred the hard ground beside the river, but now that she had been banned from her aunt's house, it seemed that the Two Crowns Inn was the only lodging Trenton could provide for her.

She went to the washstand by the wall, trying to shake off her discomfort. There was a piece of mirror in the back of the stand; it was dirty and had a crack that ran down its middle. As Micara looked at her reflection she understood what Calen had meant at Aunt Gladys'. She hardly recognized herself. Her once milk white skin was now bronzed and smudged with dirt. Her hair, though it had been washed the previous day, was wild and unkempt. Even her clothes were dusty and travel worn. She had never looked so uncivilized in all her life. She would not have been caught dead like this in Dryden. No wonder Aunt Gladys' maid had turned her away. Her own father would not have let her in looking the way she did right now.

She only allowed herself a moment of despair on behalf of her looks before trying to make herself presentable. There was water in the ewer on the washstand that had probably been recently brought in by the man who had been staying in the room, for unlike the rest of the inn, it was clean. She scrubbed her face, neck, and hands till they glowed a rosy red and dried them on her petticoat, rather than chance the provided towel. Her hair was a tangled mess, but a few determined brush strokes sorted that out quickly.

Had the state of the inn been any better than her state of dress, she would have changed, but Calen was already waiting for her, so she let it be and left the room. She fought the urge to skitter back inside when a man clomped up the stairs towards her. He carried the carpet bag that had been laying on the floor in her room.

Cara remained frozen outside the doorway as the man neared. He scowled when he saw her, his dark brows lowering menacingly over his hard brown eyes. He continued towards her. Cara's heart stuttered and she could not breathe.

He stopped one room away from her and after one last glare, went inside.

When he was gone and she could move again, Cara tiptoed down the hall, giving the man's door a wide berth. She descended the stairs as quickly as possible, searching frantically for Calen. Her heart beat wildly as she located him and fled to the safety his presence offered.

He was sitting at a table with two plates of the same food they had seen one of the men eating when they arrived. Cara forced herself to slow as she approached him, trying to regain a calm composure. Calen noticed her pallor nevertheless.

"Wh' tis it?" he asked, ready to rise against any danger.

Cara's mind scrambled and a lie popped out of her mouth without her permission, "Something furry gave me a start."