Chapter Twenty-Four
November 19th, 1808
Bristol
They reached Bristol shortly after dusk. The Swan was a larger establishment than the Plough, and considerably smarter. The bedchambers were well-appointed, the private parlor tasteful rather than cozy, and the meal laid on the table included not only soup, a roasted chicken, and a vegetable pudding, but a dish of tongue with red currant sauce, and a syllabub.
Letty sat and surveyed the food spread before them, and then lifted her gaze to Reid’s face. He was examining the meal, his expression impassive. After a moment, he looked up.
In Basingstoke, and during those first days at Whiteoaks, she’d thought she and Reid had almost become friends. The incident at the stream and its aftermath yesterday had altered that. A huge gulf seemed to h
