Page 20 of Pleasantly Pursued
But I had begun it, so I would see it finished.
“I’m not a man prone to enjoying vegetables, but these potatoes have been seasoned well.” I reached for the fork to spear a potato and Thea slapped my hand away.
“Enough.”
Victory swooped through me, but I kept a placid expression on my face. “Enough?”
“Yes. I know what you are trying to do.”
“Is it working?”
A flicker of a smile danced on the corner of her mouth, but she suppressed it well. I would likely not have noticed it had I not been searching ardently for any sign that she was breaking. “No. But I will take the plate and eat it if only to make you stop. No one appreciates listening to another person eat with such enthusiasm.”
So itwasworking,
“On the contrary,” I said lightly, glad to see her lift the roll and take a bite. “I enjoy nothing more when seated at dinner than to listen to others enjoy their food.”
She gave me a disbelieving arch of an eyebrow.
“Truly,” I said, leaning back in the chair to the sound of an ominous creak and resting my ankle on the opposite knee. “It is even better when the food is described.”
“Like this warm, buttery potato?”
“Yes.”
“Or this”—she cut a bite of ham and laid it on her tongue—“dry, cold ham.”
I fought a smile. “Even better. I do not have to eat anything because I have the pleasure of listening to it described to me. It’s lovely.”
She shook her head, obviously aware of my jest and equally willing to let the conversation cease here. “It is a wonder you have so many friends when you have such strange table manners.”
“The trend of describing your dinner is catching on. You will see.”
She went quiet, focusing on eating her meal, and when her plate was cleared, I moved my gaze to rest on the ever-darkening window. “There is to be a fight tomorrow.”
“That is why the other inn was full,” she said, understanding.
“Yes, and why this one is crawling with gentlemen. You would do best not to leave the room at all.”
She nodded. “Is there anyone I would know?”
“Frederick Keller?”
She shook her head.
“Then you are likely safe. I knew no one else.” I glanced at her flowy shirt and tight breeches. They were tighter than they ought to be, but a boy would wear them this way. I only noticed the definition of her curves because I knew she was a woman—though I did my utmostnotto notice them.
“This room has no extra blankets,” she said, standing and moving to the window. She looked out over High Street. “I almost went to inquire with the innkeeper, but I didn’t want to put my hair up again.”
“They’ll not have any, I’m sure. Not with the crowd downstairs. More men were arriving when I left the taproom.”
Thea nodded, then looked to the bed. “I will take the mattress. You may have the blanket.”
If it could even be called such. It was so thin as to be more of a sheet. The hard planked floor beneath my feet was unyielding, and I thought maybe the stables with Charlie did sound like the better option tonight, though it would be freezing. At least in here we had a dying fire.
Thea looked from the bed to the empty plate. “It is such a wide bed,” she said, not meeting my gaze. “I’m certain it was designed to hold an entire family.”
“More than likely. I would have guessed the same of the bed from the inn last night as well.” A family, a group of friends, or a handful of strangers. I had been offered a room with strangers more times than I could count on various journeys, and while others I knew would share beds or rooms with strangers to save a few coins, I could never bring myself to do it, even with the outrageous expense of a private room. I held my breath and her gaze, wondering at the implication of her statement.