Edith Layton by Gypsy Lover Read Free Book Online

when did you tell him this?”
    “Why just this morning, miss.”
    “But I thought mine was the first coach to arrive today.”
    “So it is,” the innkeeper’s wife said comfortably.“But the young man, he came on horseback, even earlier.”
    Horseback! Meg felt as though she’d been struck in the face with the news. She’d never thought about that. So that was why he’d been a step ahead of her all day yesterday. Well, good. That meant he wasn’t following her. But it also meant that she might just as well save her breath to cool her porridge for this last leg she’d take on the Brighton Road. Except, she reasoned slowly, if he had found out anything, she could discover what it was, too. There was a lot to be said for following the gypsy, actually.
    “And now it turns out the girl was your cousin!” the innkeeper’s wife marveled. “Wonders will never cease. Well, if I find out anything, be sure I’ll send the news on ahead to where you’re bound. Where are you going next, miss?” she asked eagerly.
    “I’m on my way to…” Meg paused. There was a jot too much eagerness in the woman’s tone, a touch too much excitement. “To Brighton,” she said.
    She’d better not trust anyone. Who was to say that the gypsy hadn’t promised the woman payment for information about where she was bound? “Thank you,” she added. “I’ll be stopping where the coach does along the way, so if you hear of anything and can send on information I’ll be grateful.” And surprised, she thought.
    Meg swallowed her tea, and hopped back up into the coach again when the guard signaled it was time to move on. There was a long way to travel before she’d leave the road and strike out on her own. Whenshe found the place where the road diverged and went east and west, she wouldn’t get on the Brighton stage again. There was a junction where passengers could continue on to Brighton or go west along the coast road toward Plymouth. That was where she’d make her move.
    And if she didn’t find a shadow of Rosie in all her travels, in Plymouth or anywhere along the way?
    Meg sighed, closed her eyes and laid her head on the back of her seat as the coach rocked on down the long road. Well, then, she’d have wasted her time and her money. So what? She wouldn’t need either when she was back with the aunts, after all.
     
    The Stoned Crow wasn’t as tidy an inn as the Old Fancy across the street, where the coaches stopped, nor as famous for its menu as the Rose and Bull , a little way from there. But it wasn’t as crowded either, and that suited Meg’s purposes exactly. The fewer people who saw her come and go from this crossroads, the better. She got a room at the top of the stairs, looked out the window, and saw the Brighton coach leave the Old Fancy ’s busy inn yard a half hour later. She planned to get on the next coach headed toward Plymouth at first light.
    But there was dinner to be had first, and a night to get through. Meg went downstairs. The Stoned Crow had a separate taproom and a small dining parlor. The tap was dark, thick with smoke, noisy, and filled with men. The parlor’s air was fresher, but it was half empty. Meg could see why. The bits of carpet on thefloor were threadbare and stained, the floor itself in little better state. A fitful fire was slowly strangling in the sooty hearth, and the tables were battered and dented. But no one from the coach she’d arrived on was here, and that was what mattered most. Meg seated herself and waited to have her dinner.
    But first, as always, as soon she gave the serving woman her order, she asked her usual question.
    “A runaway heiress?” the woman asked with interest when she was done.
    “I didn’t say heiress,” Meg said, “but she might be considered such.” She sighed, accepting the inevitable. “I suppose her fiancé told you that, did he? When did you speak with him?”
    The woman cocked her head to the side. Her hair was untidy, her round face shiny