Enlightened by Joanna Chambers Page B

Lordship requested a clean tablecloth?” Foster said with unctuous smile.
    Murdo gave the little man a long look, before he confirmed. “I did,” he said. “And that you proceed to burn this one, if you please.” He flicked a disdainful finger at the stained one.
    “Of course,” Foster assured him, and began to remove the silverware from the table before adding casually, “I must apologise for Peggy’s clumsiness.”
    He had guessed it was the girl, David realised, and had come to prod out the truth.
    He had made a grave error.
    “I beg your pardon?” Murdo’s incredulous voice was pure ice.
    Foster stilled in what he was doing and looked up. Seeing the expression on Murdo’s face, he swallowed hard.
    “What exactly do you mean by that comment?” Murdo demanded.
    “I was merely apologising, my lord,” Foster said, licking his lips nervously. “I’ve no doubt the girl caused you to spill the gravy, and I wanted to assure you—”
    “What did she tell you?” Murdo demanded.
    It was plain that Foster took Murdo’s swift question as evidence that his suspicions were warranted—his eyes gleamed with triumph. “Merely that, my lord. That you spilled the gravy and wanted a new tablecloth.”
    “And to add the cost of the ruined one to my bill?”
    “Yes.”
    “Then why are you bothering me?” Murdo roared at him, eyes flashing and nostrils flaring with temper.
    Foster quaked in the face of Murdo’s impressive anger, while Peggy, who stood behind the innkeeper, looked at the floor, biting her lip against a tiny smile.
    “Perhaps,” Murdo went on, “you think to chide me for my clumsiness? Is that it? Are these apologies a backhanded way of giving me a scold?”
    “No! No, my lord! I would not presume to criticise!” the innkeeper babbled.
    “I’ve already said I’ll pay for a new tablecloth. Is that not enough for you?”
    “My lord, it is most generous ,” Foster went on, his expression growing more horrified by the second. “I did not intend to suggest that your spilling gravy was in any way careless.”
    Murdo waved him away impatiently. “Enough of this. Pray, leave us.” He gestured to Peggy. “And you, girl, attend to the table, if you please.” Then, entirely ignoring Foster, he turned to David and began to talk about, of all things, horses.
    Foster slunk away, while Peggy began to clear the remaining dishes to the sideboard. Once the door had closed behind Foster and a minute or two had passed, Murdo turned to the girl again.
    “He didn’t believe you, I take it?”
    She shook her head miserably. “I’m always in trouble with ’im. Always getting me wages docked.”
    “You should find yourself a new position.”
    “I’m saving to get married. Just another year and I’ll be away.”
    “Is that so?”
    Murdo dug into his pocket and brought out a leather purse, beckoning the girl over. Peggy approached apprehensively.
    “Put out your hand,” he said.
    She opened her hand, and he counted five guineas out into her plump palm.
    The girl stared at the gold in her hand, and her other hand crept up to cover her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. “Oh, sir,” she whispered. Then she looked up, horrified. “I mean, my lord!”
    “Put it safely away, somewhere that odious little man won’t find it. We don’t want him to accuse you of stealing, do we? And here—” He drew out one of his cards and handed it to her. “That has my name and direction on it, just in case you have any more difficulties with him before you leave.”
    “Thank you,” she whispered, still staring, awestruck, at the coins.
    “You’d better get this lot cleared up before he comes back looking for you.” Murdo smiled.
    She did as he bid her, wisely slipping the coins into the toe of her shoe first.
    Once she was gone, David said, “That was quite a little scene you acted out with Foster. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you being quite so aristocratic before.”
    “Like that, did you?”
    “I