Free The Unofficial Suitor by Charlotte Louise Dolan

can’t come in. We’re closed. No one ‘ere to look after you. Go on somewhere else. No one ‘ere. Not a staging house. Can’t stay. Go away.”
    The coachman was not one to be put off by lack of welcome. “Look lively, man, and send someone out to help with my horses.”
    “No one ‘ere. That’s what I’m tellin’ you. Wife’s gone to m’daughter’s. First gran’chil’ coming. M’son drove her. No one ‘ere but me. Can’t ‘elp you. Shelebrating. First gran’chil’. Be a boy. Told m’wife. Got to be a boy. Name ‘im after me. Can’t stay. No one ‘ere to cook. Go somewhere else.” He took another hearty swig from his mug and unexpectedly beamed at them. “Goin’ to be a boy.” Then he slid slowly down to the floor and started snoring loudly.
    The coachman swore under his breath, then went back out himself to help the guard take care of the horses, but the other three men seemed unaffected by their strange reception. They calmly stepped over the landlord’s prone body and proceeded into the taproom where without any by-your-leave they proceeded to make themselves at home.
    “I cannot approve of this place.”
    Her step-mother’s petulant voice startled Cassie almost enough to make her blurt out her own misgivings about their lack of finances. Only by exerting the greatest effort was she able to say calmly, “I am afraid the weather has taken the decision as to where we stay out of our hands. I realize these are not the accommodations we were expecting, but we must make the best of the situation.”
    “Very well, if you are so set on it, we will stay, although I will be very surprised if the sheets are not damp. Please have someone show us to our rooms, and then ask the maid to bring us something to eat.”
    Cassie would have been irritated by her step-mother’s haughty attitude if she had not heard the tremble in her voice, and known that this was just Ellen’s way of trying to cope with a situation that was beyond her capabilities. Ellen was sweet and kind-hearted, and Cassie loved her dearly, but unfortunately Ellen had not the least particle of resolution, and she had never been able to handle the slightest adversity. Cassie had, in fact, become quite accustomed to taking care of her step-mother as if she, Cassie, were the mother and Ellen were the child.
    So instead of reminding her that none of them really wanted to stay in this miserable place, but the weather made it impossible for them to go on, Cassie merely said matter-of-factly, “They are a little short of help now, so I will take us upstairs and together we can pick out a suitable room. Then I will see what is available in the way of a meal.”
    There was not much to choose from upstairs—four rooms, each with a double bed, all of them cold and damp with no fires lit. It was a relief, however, to leave her querulous stepmother in the largest of the rooms, with Seffie delegated the impossible task of cheering her up, while Cassie addressed herself to the only slightly less impossible job of securing wood for their fire and food for their stomachs.
    Pausing in the door of the taproom, she evaluated her three potential helpers, the coachman and guard evidently still being occupied with the horses. She had already made up her mind to approach the oldest of the three, in hopes that she was not mistaken in her belief that he possessed at least a modicum of kindness in his make-up.
    Unfortunately, the only one facing the door was the youngest man, who, as soon as he caught sight of her, started smiling in a way that made her thankful she had not yet put off her cloak. She did not need his smile to know any request she might make of him would undoubtedly be interpreted as an invitation to share her bed. On the other hand, unless she actually entered the taproom, which she was loath to do, she could see no way of attracting the attention of the man with whom she did wish to speak.
    The young man chuckled out loud as she hesitated