The Guardian

Chapter 5

It was well past midnight by Jack's estimation when they came to Philadelphia. Wherever they arrived at this hour would cause suspicion—except establishments of lesser repute—so he looked for them. The less attention they garnered, the better. When he found an inn that looked promising, he stopped at the door and studied the front of the building, sizing it up.

"Let's see if there are stables around back," Jack said softly and led Charlemagne around the back of the dilapidated structure. He took the opportunity to study the back of the building, as well. There were a few rooms on the second floor. Only one looked to have a lamp burning. A pile of hay was heaped along the back of the building. There was, indeed, a stable located in the darkness, but there did not appear to be a hostler or even a stable boy—or if there was, he was not conscious at that time.

Jack led Charlemagne to the last stall. He curled up his lip in disgust at the smell emanating from the stall. Clearly, the inn did not maintain the stable. If it did, the man responsible was lax at his job. He secured the stall door, then picked up the feed bag hanging from the stall rail. That smelled worse than the stall so he tossed it out of Charlemagne's reach. He'd rather have the horse hungry than sick from whatever rotten and pest-infected feed was in that bag. He grabbed Nora's hand and pulled her out of the stable.

"Here?" she asked, struggling to keep up with him. "This is where you want to stay tonight?"

"The accommodations may not be up to your lofty standards, my love, but Rogan will have his men checking the more reputable establishments."

"Do not call me your love," Nora hissed.

"What else does a loving husband call his adoring wife?" Jack replied.

"This ruse was your idea, sir," Nora reminded him. "You do not need to sound so snide about it."

"On the contrary, my lady, I am ecstatic. In you, I possess such a prize. You, on the other hand, are definitely marrying beneath your station."

"First of all, Mr. Justice, it is not for you to assume that I pass any sort of judgment on your station. I have learned to judge a man on his merits, not his social standing. Secondly, there are likely criminals in there."

"We are running from British soldiers, Lady Eleanor, what is it you think we are assumed to be?"

As they stood outside the door, Nora wrapped her free hand around Jack's forearm. She had been to establishments such as this many times in the last century, but experience did nothing to calm her nerves. As they stepped inside, her eyes adjusted to the poor lighting. The wooden floor was scarred. Lamps were lit along the walls, but they did not do much in the way of providing light. Nora could only assume the types of patrons of this inn did not wish to be seen. There were wooden tables and chairs throughout the room. Men in various qualities of clothing were scattered about the room. There was a rowdy dicing game in session in front of a roaring fire in the mammoth stone hearth.

Nora looked over to the bar area that ran the entire length of the back wall. A balding man stood washing a tankard and eyeing them. Saucy young women worked the room with drinks and food, but Nora highly doubted that was the only service they provided. The conversation quieted as the inn's patrons took in the new arrivals. Nora moved closer to Jack.

Jack wasn't intimidated at all by anything he saw. To him, it was a typical inn of the working class. Of course, he assumed there would be the usual assortment of ne'er do wells, but the card game looked promising. He gave Nora a tug as they started forward. She had secured herself firmly to his side. If anyone found her manner of dress strange, Jack didn't see any evidence of it. Perhaps women wearing men's breaches were common here.