Twenty-Nine
She awoke with a start. She was breathing too quickly and her heart was pounding.
“Beatrice, wake up. Make no sound.”
Joshua’s urgent voice was a low, dark whisper in her ear. She became aware of his hand on her arm. It was his touch that had jolted her awake. She opened her eyes and saw that he was bending low over the bed. But he was not looking down at her. His attention was fixed on the window that overlooked the street.
Her first thought was that the world around her had gone strangely still and silent. There was an unnatural hush in the atmosphere. She was vaguely aware that it had stopped raining.
Her second thought was that she was astonished to discover that she had fallen asleep in the first place. After the evening meal, which had been served in the inn’s private dining room, she had climbed the stairs with Joshua. She had requested a spare sheet from the innkeeper’s wife. When it had been sent up to the room she had draped it around the washstand, attaching two corners to wall hooks, to provide some privacy. Joshua had made no comment.
She had anticipated spending the night lying wide awake on one side of the bed until dawn. The only articles of clothing she had removed were her wet overcoat, her hat and her boots. She had set everything to dry in front of the small fire on the hearth.
Joshua had arranged his own, much heavier boots, his long black overcoat and his hat next to her things. She had been aware of a sensual intimacy in the atmosphere as they went about the task of arranging their damp garments. As if we were a pair of lovers caught in the rain, she thought.
She had firmly reminded herself that they were in reality a pair of professional investigators who had been caught in the rain.
When they had at last turned down the lamp, Joshua had made no attempt to use the far side of the bed. Instead he had settled into the room’s only chair and contemplated the night.
Now he was standing over her, watching the window with the focused attention of the hunter.
“What’s wrong?” she whispered.
“I’m not sure yet,” he said. “Possibly nothing at all. But a moment ago I saw someone strike a light in a doorway across the street.”
“No honest person would have a reason to be hanging about in a convenient doorway at this hour of the night. You think someone is watching this inn, don’t you?”
“It’s a possibility.” Joshua moved away from the bed. “I’m going outside to take a look. I want you to stay here and I want you to keep your stocking pistol in your hand until I return. Do you understand?”
“Yes, of course, I understand.” She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The action hiked up her skirts. She removed the small weapon from the holster strapped to her leg. “Please be very, very careful, sir.”
“You have my word on it.” He went to the now smoldering fire to collect his coat. “Lock the door behind me.”
“I will.”
“Do not open it for anyone except me.”
“No,” she said.
She stood and followed him to the door. He let himself out into the hall. She closed the door very quietly and slid the bolt into place.
She waited there, listening intently for a moment. She thought she heard the faint thump of his cane in the hall but she could not be certain.
In spite of his old injury, Joshua could move very quietly when he chose.