"Thank you, my man," Captain Rogers tipped him handsomely. "There is no need to wait. When I leave here, I will be able to purchase a coach and four, and the house and grounds to go with it."
"Aye, that"ll be right," the uncouth fellow responded. "You mind your back, sir, and you, Ma"am. There"s queer things go on in Weir"s and not always for the benefit of the players." Touching a finger to his broad-brimmed hat, he whipped on, and the coach jolted over the greasy cobbles.
I stood outside the inn with its gaudily painted sign showing Major Weir, the Captain of the City Guard who was executed for witchcraft and incest.
"Are you all right, Dorothea?" George"s voice was quiet as he touched my arm.
I nodded, nerving myself to step inside. Now that the time had come I was not so sure of my
