Tale As Old As Time

Chapter 4

THOMAS STARED AT THE YOUNG LADY ACROSS HIM as the carriage exited the estate. Outside the perimeter of the Bakewell estate, a herd of cattle fed on hay and walked around the quiet fields. The sun shone brightly above, no clouds in sight, as if it had never rained the past few weeks. The wind was pleasant and rustled the yellowing leaves of the trees that lined the dirt road. Malaya looked and looked; absorbing everything around her. When they entered the village, a number of people walking and talking by the road. Not once did Thomas take his eyes off of the young lady.

"Miss Malaya," Thomas spoke when the carriage halted. He alighted the carriage, and offered her his hand as he stood on the gravel road. Thomas gestured to their surroundings when she didn't move from her seat. "We are in Ashford-in-the-water, but not between Greaves lane and Church street - Mr. Johnson and I couldn't find it on the map."

Malaya furrowed her eyebrows and hesitantly took his hand to step down the carriage. "This doesn't look like Ashford-in-the-water..." She trailed off, slowly spinning to look around.

There was a small pub by the road, a few stone buildings that stood around it, stonewalls that kept the water from the river separate from the road, and the bridge that goes over the water to connect to the other side. The village was sluggish at this time of the day when most of the residents were having their meals.

Malaya stopped as she faced a weathered stone building, the familiarity of it dawning on her. "That's my family's inn. I almost didn't recognize it. Where did the sign go?" She looked behind her and pursed her lips before pushing the door and entering.

Thomas followed her. He didn't want her getting away from him. In his haste, he bumped into her as she stood still by the door. She didn't seem bothered by the gentle collision as she stared at the pub's interior. It was just as Thomas remembered it: welcoming and homely. The faint smell of hashed meat, bread, and cheese greeted Thomas and made his mouth water. They were serving luncheon.

In front of him, Malaya's head moved slightly. Slowly, she intercepted an older woman on her way back to the kitchen. "Hi, pardon me. Have you seen mum or dad?"

The woman looked at her funnily before noticing him. Her eyes widened upon realizing who it was and dropped to a respectful curtsey. "Milord." She greeted politely.

Malaya turned to look at Thomas, who nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. "I am glad to see Ashford Arms back on its feet. Plenty of passersby staying the night and enjoying luncheon." He glanced around the room.

The woman straightened and smoothed her hands over her brown skirt and white apron. "All thanks to your father. God bless his soul," she said, to which Thomas cleared his throat and stiffly nodded as a reply. He avoided Malaya's curious eyes as the woman continued, "Perhaps we could offer you and your lady some luncheon, milord?"

Malaya opened her mouth to speak, but Thomas quickly interjected by introducing them. "Mrs. Williams, this is my sister's good friend, Miss Malaya Valley." He glanced at Malaya, not missing the miserable look on her face when he said her name. Perhaps he shouldn't say her name anymore. He gestured to Mrs. Williams, "Miss Valley, this is Mrs. Williams - she and her husband owns Ashford Arms."

Mrs. Williams offered Malaya a slight curtsey, running her eyes over the latter's figure. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Valley." She spoke in a friendly yet authoritative tone - one that mothers usually take on when speaking with their children.

Malaya gave her a polite smile and mimicked the woman's curtsey. "Pleasure is all mine, Mrs. Williams."

Thomas knew Mrs. Williams was curious about the lady stranger. He didn't want to stay for fear of being found walking around the village and introducing a woman he barely knew, especially when he wasn't sure of Miss Malaya yet. "Perhaps we could come by some other time to properly have luncheon with you and Mr. Williams."