He thanked her and, against his desire to race upstairs and make sure Bridget was well after her ordeal, he took a seat in the common room—where he could be seen by all.
Hopefully, Ambrose and his women would soon depart for their rooms and leave him free to visit with Bridget. Until then, he was stuck right here where his presence would be noted. He waved at the innkeeper to bring him an ale, which he then nursed for almost an hour.
Finally, Ambrose directed his family up the stairs to the bedchambers floor. It had almost seemed a contest between him and the family, seeing who would depart the room first.
The innkeeper’s wife, who told him her name was Mrs. Trenton, had reported to him a while ago that Bridget was sleeping soundly on the bed in room number four and seemed to be just fine.
Room number four. He didn’t know whether Mrs. Trenton told him the number on purpose, or accidentally, but after arranging for a room for himself, he strode up the stairs and went directly to room four.
The door was unlocked, most likely because Bridget had not yet awakened from her drugged state. The room was dark and chilly. The low fire in the grate did not give off much heat. No candle was left burning, so he made his way across the room to the bed carefully, so as not to trip and make enough noise for the entire inn to be up and staring at him again.
Bridget lay curled up on the bed, most likely cold. He touched her forehead. “Bridget?”
She stirred and opened her eyes. “Cam.” She sat up and looked around. “Where am I? The last thing I remember was Lord Davenport dragging me into an inn. Is this it? How did you get here?”
Cam lit the candle on the table next to the bed and sat alongside her. “Too many questions at once, sweeting. First of all, how do you feel?”
“My mouth is very dry, and my head hurts, but otherwise I am well.” Her eyes grew wide. “Did Davenport…”
“I don’t think he did more than make the stupid decision to kidnap you with the idea of ruining you so there would be no choice but for you to marry him. However—”
“I will not marry that man!”
Cam cleared his throat. “If he had done something improper while you were under the influence of the drug he gave you, you would know. You would feel…” Lord, he hated having this conversation, but he needed answers. “You would feel some soreness between your legs.”
Despite the dim light from the lone candle, he clearly saw her face flush bright red. “No.” She shook her head, then groaned at the movement. “No. I don’t feel any different.”
Cam let out a sigh of relief. At least that was not an additional problem they would have to contend with.
“To answer your questions, I went to my sister’s townhouse earlier today to relate to you the meeting I had with Davenport. After he’d left me yesterday, I was under the impression he was about to close up his house and leave the country. I even gave him enough funds to purchase a ticket and set himself up elsewhere.”
Bridget snorted. “That was quite generous of you.”
“Foolish, also. I never dreamed he would use the money to kidnap you.” He shook his head. “Now he faces kidnapping charges, and I will also demand payment of the debts I hold for him. Debtor’s prison is the best he can hope for.”
Cam ran his finger down her cheek. “My sister’s butler informed me that Davenport had taken you for a ride in the park, and I knew immediately what he had planned. I only wish I had thought of it before he did it.”
“Well, I am glad it is over.”
He closed his eyes and winced. “I am afraid it is not over, sweetheart. You are in a mess.”
“Why?”
“Lord and Lady Ambrose, along with their daughters, witnessed the entire debacle downstairs, including the announcement by Davenport that you were headed to Gretna Green. They also saw the condition you were in, and even though I assured them you had been drugged for nefarious purposes, they believed you were drunk.”
“Drunk!”
He nodded.
“Do you think they will talk about it?”
Cam snorted. “There is no doubt in my mind.”
“Will it be a problem?” Bridget chewed her lip.
“A major problem.”
“Hmm. Now what?”