“I have no doubt in my mind that you are equal to the task.” Mrs. Parks smiled back.

“Ah, here is my maid and footman. Let us make an impression.” Eleanor gathered her dignity around her like a shield as Turner helped her down the coach stairs. Another footman assisted her companion, and the head outrider ran to the door and opened it, bowing as she strode in.

A tall, thin man of middling years with a shock of brown hair mixed with gray waiting next to a desk bowed.

Behind her, Turner said, “Lady Eleanor Carpenter. Sister to the Marquis and Marchioness of Kenilworth.”

“Name’s Claiborne.” The landlord bowed again. “I received a letter from his lordship asking us to set aside rooms for you.”

She inclined her head and gave him a polite smile. “We will require one additional room for a family. A mother and three children had some trouble, and I have taken them up.”

A shadow passed across the landlord’s face as he looked in the direction of what must have been the common room, and for a moment he hesitated. “Yes, my lady.”

“Good.” Resisting the pull to glance in the same direction, she raised her chin slightly. “They will require baths, meals, and a doctor. Mr. Whitmer”—she indicated the outrider with her hand—“will assist you if need be.”

“Thank you, my lady.” Mr. Claiborne gathered several keys and slid a look toward the common room again. “If you will follow me, I’ll take you to your chambers.”

“Turner,” Eleanor whispered. “Something is wrong. Get the family and take them around to the back.”

“Straightaway, my lady.”

“I’ll have Whitmer wait for you.”

Turner nodded and backed toward the main door. Eleanor’s brain whirled with the possibility of danger. She had heard about the things that had happened to her sisters and Dotty, but Eleanor had never really expected to experience them herself. She followed the landlord up the stairs. The first thing she must do is assess from where the problem was coming. That should be relatively simple. Someone was obviously in the common room looking for a family. He was not the woman’s husband. Who was he, and why did he pose a danger? Her footman would be happy to attempt to find out, but Whitmer wasn’t wearing livery and Turner was.

The landlord showed Eleanor her rooms. Jobert, who was carrying a satchel, immediately entered.

“I have beds for your coachmen over the stables,” Mr. Claiborne said.

Eleanor nodded. “Our ladies’ maids will sleep in Mrs. Parks’s and my respective chambers. I trust you have trundle beds for them?”

“We do, my lady.” Between their rooms and the backstairs, he unlocked the door to another chamber. “Here is one big enough for a family.”