Free The Corinthian by Georgette Heyer Page A

twenty miles, going 'cross country.'
    'Are you proposing to walk twenty miles?' said Sir Richard.
    'Well, I dare say it is not as much. As the crow flies, I expect it is only about ten miles off.'
    'You are not a crow,' said Sir Richard dampingly. 'Nor, I may add, am I. Get up from that portmanteau!'
    She rose obediently. 'I think I could quite well walk twenty miles. Not all at once, of course. What are we going to do?'
    'We are going to retrace our steps along the road until we come to an inn,' replied Sir Richard. 'As I remember, there was one, about a couple of miles back. Nothing would induce me to make one of this afflictive coach-party!'
    'I must own, I am a little tired of them myself,' admitted Pen. 'Only I won't go to a posting-house!'
    'Make yourself easy on that score!' said Sir Richard grimly. 'No respectable posting-house would open its door to us in this guise.'
    This made Pen giggle. She put forward no further opposition, but picked up the cloak-bag, and set out beside Sir Richard in the direction of Chippenham.
    None of the coach-passengers noticed their departure, since all were fully occupied, either in reviling the coachman, or in planning their immediate movements. The bend in the road soon shut them off from sight of the coach, and Sir Richard then said: 'And now you may give me that cloak-bag.'
    'Well, I won't,' said Pen, holding on to it firmly. 'It is not at all heavy, and you have your portmanteau to carry already. Besides, I feel more like a man every moment. What shall we do when we reach the inn?'
    'Order supper.'
    'Yes, and after that?'
    'Go to bed.'
    Pen considered this. 'You don't think we should set forward on our journey at once?'
    'Certainly not. We shall go to bed like Christians, and in the morning we shall hire a conveyance to carry us to Queen Charlton. A private conveyance,' he added.
    'But—'
    'Pen Creed,' said Sir Richard calmly, 'you cast me for the role of bear-leader, and I accepted it. You drew a revolting picture of me which led everyone in that coach to regard me in the light of a persecutor of youth. Now you are reaping the harvest of your own sowing.'
    She laughed. 'Are you going to persecute me?'
    'Horribly!' said Sir Richard.
    She tucked a confiding hand in his arm, and gave a little skip. 'Very well, I will do as you tell me. I'm very glad I met you: we are having a splendid adventure, are we not?'
    Sir Richard's lips twitched. Suddenly he burst out laughing, standing still in the middle of the road, while Pen doubtfully surveyed him.
    'But what is the matter with you?' she asked.
    'Never mind!' he said, his voice still unsteady with mirth. 'Of course we are having a splendid adventure!'
    'Well, I think we are,' she said, stepping out beside him again. 'Piers will be so surprised when he sees me!'
    'I should think he would be,' agreed Sir Richard. 'You are quite sure that you don't regret coining in search of him, I suppose?'
    'Oh yes, quite! Why, Piers is my oldest friend! Didn't I tell you that we made a vow to be married?'
    'I have some recollection of your doing so,' he admitted. 'But I also recollect that you said you hadn't seen him for five years.'
    'No, that is true, but it doesn't signify in the least, I assure you.'
    'I see,' said Sir Richard, keeping his inevitable reflections to himself.
    They had not more than two miles to go before they reached the inn Sir Richard had seen from the window of the coach. It was a very small hostelry, with a weather-beaten sign creaking on its chains, a thatched roof, and only one parlour, besides the common tap-room.
    The landlord, upon hearing of the breakdown of the stage-coach, accepted the travellers' unconventional arrival without surprise. It was growing dark by this time, and it was not until Sir Richard had stepped into the inn, and stood in the light of a hanging lamp, that the landlord was able to obtain a clear view of him. Sir Richard had chosen for the journey a plain coat and serviceable breeches, but the cut of