Radcliffe
every so often. Then Beth excused herself and said she was going to rest. Radcliffe decided that the girl had a
very delicate constitution if she must rest so often, but said nothing.
Charlie, on the other hand, watched her sister go with a sigh. Beth expected her to wait until Radcliffe was asleep, steal his pistol, then go to her. But she was beginning to dislike the idea. Radcliffe was… nice, and he had gone out of his way to help them. The idea of stealing his pistol, whether she left jewels in exchange for it or not, just did not sit well with her.
She glanced down at her ale and grimaced. On the other hand, they had to get to Cousin Ralphy, and having heard how Radcliffe's sister had died, she absolutely would not set out without a weapon. The perils of the road were suddenly very believable.
Pushing her ale away, Charlie stood and muttered that she had to tell Beth something, then hurried up to her sister's room.
"I cannot steal his pistol," she announced, stepping inside and closing the door.
"Good." Beth finished stepping out of her gown and laid it across a chair by the bed, oblivious to Charlie's sudden frown.
"What do you mean, 'good'?"
"He is nice," Beth announced firmly, releasing her hair to fall in long waves around her shoulders. "And it would be stealing whether we left a bracelet or not."
Sighing, Charlie sank onto the side of the bed. "I know. Now what do we do?"
"You shall think of something," Beth said complacently, and Charlie was suddenly
angry. It had always been that way. Were they in trouble and in need of a plan, Charlie was expected to come up with it and get them out of the hot water. Oddly enough, it had never bothered her before, but now it did. Before she could comment, Beth mused, "It is a shame that we are not in a town or something. We could simply buy one then."
Charlie stared at her blankly for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Good idea."
Pausing in the act of crawling into bed, Beth glanced at her blankly. "What?"
"I shall see if the innkeeper has a flintlock. He is sure to have one. I shall buy it off him."
"What if he does not want to sell it?"
Charlie shrugged and walked to the door. "I shall offer him so much that he will not be able to refuse." She paused, raising a hand to silence Beth as she listened to footsteps come up the stairs. The door to the room she had shared with Radcliffe opened and closed, and Charlie smiled slightly. It meant that she could talk to the innkeeper without worrying that Radcliffe might overhear.
"Wake me if he sells it to you," Beth whispered as Charlie opened the door. Nodding, she closed the door behind her and headed below.
----
Chapter Three
« ^ »
The innkeeper was a burly, rough-voiced man. Charlie took a seat at a table, accepted the ale the man brought over, then sipped at it as she considered how to approach him on the subject of a pistol. After a moment, she glanced about the room, empty but for her and the keeper, and waved him over.
"Is there something else you'd like, m'lord?"
"Company, if you do not mind, sir. Have a seat."
Eyes widening, the keeper hesitated a moment, then went to fetch a fresh pitcher and mug for himself. Returning, he took a seat across from Charlie, refilled her drink, then poured himself one and they drank in companionable silence for a while.
"I hear it can be dangerous on the roads," she commented finally.
"Aye." The innkeeper nodded solemnly. "I wouldn't worry none though, m'lord, what with His Lordship wit' ye. He handles hisself well."
Charlie nodded. "He was teaching me to shoot today."
The innkeeper grinned. He had seen the two of them out in the field. "Ye'll learn," he said sympathetically.
Charlie glanced up, then smiled wryly. "Aye."
Leaning forward, the innkeeper refilled her drink, and Charlie glanced down in surprise. She had not realized that she had been drinking so quickly. Determining to slow down her consumption, she asked, "Have you got a pistol?"
"Oh, aye.
every so often. Then Beth excused herself and said she was going to rest. Radcliffe decided that the girl had a
very delicate constitution if she must rest so often, but said nothing.
Charlie, on the other hand, watched her sister go with a sigh. Beth expected her to wait until Radcliffe was asleep, steal his pistol, then go to her. But she was beginning to dislike the idea. Radcliffe was… nice, and he had gone out of his way to help them. The idea of stealing his pistol, whether she left jewels in exchange for it or not, just did not sit well with her.
She glanced down at her ale and grimaced. On the other hand, they had to get to Cousin Ralphy, and having heard how Radcliffe's sister had died, she absolutely would not set out without a weapon. The perils of the road were suddenly very believable.
Pushing her ale away, Charlie stood and muttered that she had to tell Beth something, then hurried up to her sister's room.
"I cannot steal his pistol," she announced, stepping inside and closing the door.
"Good." Beth finished stepping out of her gown and laid it across a chair by the bed, oblivious to Charlie's sudden frown.
"What do you mean, 'good'?"
"He is nice," Beth announced firmly, releasing her hair to fall in long waves around her shoulders. "And it would be stealing whether we left a bracelet or not."
Sighing, Charlie sank onto the side of the bed. "I know. Now what do we do?"
"You shall think of something," Beth said complacently, and Charlie was suddenly
angry. It had always been that way. Were they in trouble and in need of a plan, Charlie was expected to come up with it and get them out of the hot water. Oddly enough, it had never bothered her before, but now it did. Before she could comment, Beth mused, "It is a shame that we are not in a town or something. We could simply buy one then."
Charlie stared at her blankly for a moment, then suddenly smiled. "Good idea."
Pausing in the act of crawling into bed, Beth glanced at her blankly. "What?"
"I shall see if the innkeeper has a flintlock. He is sure to have one. I shall buy it off him."
"What if he does not want to sell it?"
Charlie shrugged and walked to the door. "I shall offer him so much that he will not be able to refuse." She paused, raising a hand to silence Beth as she listened to footsteps come up the stairs. The door to the room she had shared with Radcliffe opened and closed, and Charlie smiled slightly. It meant that she could talk to the innkeeper without worrying that Radcliffe might overhear.
"Wake me if he sells it to you," Beth whispered as Charlie opened the door. Nodding, she closed the door behind her and headed below.
----
Chapter Three
« ^ »
The innkeeper was a burly, rough-voiced man. Charlie took a seat at a table, accepted the ale the man brought over, then sipped at it as she considered how to approach him on the subject of a pistol. After a moment, she glanced about the room, empty but for her and the keeper, and waved him over.
"Is there something else you'd like, m'lord?"
"Company, if you do not mind, sir. Have a seat."
Eyes widening, the keeper hesitated a moment, then went to fetch a fresh pitcher and mug for himself. Returning, he took a seat across from Charlie, refilled her drink, then poured himself one and they drank in companionable silence for a while.
"I hear it can be dangerous on the roads," she commented finally.
"Aye." The innkeeper nodded solemnly. "I wouldn't worry none though, m'lord, what with His Lordship wit' ye. He handles hisself well."
Charlie nodded. "He was teaching me to shoot today."
The innkeeper grinned. He had seen the two of them out in the field. "Ye'll learn," he said sympathetically.
Charlie glanced up, then smiled wryly. "Aye."
Leaning forward, the innkeeper refilled her drink, and Charlie glanced down in surprise. She had not realized that she had been drinking so quickly. Determining to slow down her consumption, she asked, "Have you got a pistol?"
"Oh, aye.
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