Travel hopefully in life.

"Mam means well," Mary says as they go, "she really does. She's just a bit up to high doh about, well, everything really." She huffs a small, embarrassed chuckle.

"It's no trouble," Alan is quick to assure her. "It comes as a pleasant change, to tell it true. The journey has been none too kind, so far. We'll gladly suffer a bit of fuss well intended."

Mary turns just far enough to peer over her shoulder, faint pink rising in her cheeks as she smiles gratefully at Alan and says, "You're a man of great patience to say so."

Davie's fair tempted to roll his eyes. The last thing they need while they're trying to escape notice is a pretty young maid tripping over her skirts after Alan, but he can't say he blames her. Even looking like he's been dragged through every thicket of heather and gorse from here to Inverness, Alan Breck Stewart cuts a dashing figure.

Mary steps onto the landing and leads them most of the way down another hall, to a door two from the end.

"We've only the one room available, I'm afraid," she says, rifling through the keys on her ring until she finds the one she's looking for and sticks in the lock. "We were beset upon by tradesmen only last night. Some sort of gathering in Dalkeith, I take it." She gives the key a twist and swings the door open, stepping to the side so Alan and Davie can shuffle by.

The room is humble by civilized standards, just a pair of narrow straw mattresses on low frames and a mirrored cabinet for washing, but it's miles better than most of the places they've stayed these last weeks.

Mary stands in the doorway for a moment, tangling her fingers together as she explains, "It's 6 pence for the room, and then another shilling apiece if ye'll be wanting a hot meal. If ye've clothes in need of washing, we've a cart to the laundress every morning and afternoon. Just leave yer things in the basket behind the door and set it in the hall. There's a basin on the cabinet for washing, and I expect Mam'll send Jamie up with a fresh bucket for ye presently."

"Thank you most kindly, Mistress Mary," Alan says. He sweeps a shallow bow, because Alan has never met an opportunity to grandstand that he didn't embrace wholeheartedly, and offers her a smile. This time, Davie does roll his eyes. "We're in your debt."

"Oh," Mary flushes prettily, waving a hand, "not at all, Mister, uh…" She trails off, face flaring redder as she realizes she never asked their names.

"Thompson," Alan provides without hesitation. He steps over to Davie and clasps a hand to his shoulder, adding, "And this is my dear friend, Mr. Shaw."

Davie cuts Alan a sharp look out of the corner of his eye and Alan has the audacity to wink at him, the gallus bastard.

"Well, Mr. Thompson, Mr. Shaw," Mary says, curtsying at them each in turn, "if ye'll be needing anything in the meantime, ye only need pop down to the kitchen." She favors Alan with one more smile, eyes sparkling, and swings the door shut on a polite, "I'll give ye leave, then."

Davie waits another beat to ensure she's well out of earshot and then reaches over and shoves Alan, who stumbles away, laughing.

1. AU where Davie joins the church instead of looking into the stuff about his mysterious uncle and is deployed to the Highlands as a missionary catechist on behalf of the Scottish Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge who has a down and dirty affair with an Alan Breck Stewart who's in town recruiting. I'd have to fudge timelines a bit, probably having the stuff with Davie's parents happening when he's 16/17 as in the book but keeping the play setting of him and Alan meeting around 19 and 25, respectively. Anyway it would require way too much research, so it'll never happen, but just for the musing of those who might be interested. (Also I'm not up to resolving the issues between someone working on behalf of the Reformed Church and a local attempting to hang onto his own religion, but whatever. Handwavey historical romance with heavy religious overtones, I throw myself upon thy mercy.)