Simon the Coldheart by Georgette Heyer

Simon had hardly finished his breakfast next morning when Roger returned, leading his own mare, and accompanied by Gregory, Simon's lieutenant, and six of his most trustworthy men.

At sight of this troop the landlord was thrown into a flutter. It was bad enough to have a prisoner in his loft, but seven great men to house was too much for him. Simon had told him what was expected of him, and although he dared not expostulate, the little man wrung his hands despairingly and screwed up his face into a hundred worried wrinkles. He had had experience of men-at-arms and their ways, and he feared for the peace of his household and the well-being of his cellar. He hinted at these qualms to the impervious Simon, who waved him aside with the curt promise that for any damage these men of Montlice did he should be paid in full. That was all very well, thought the landlord, but it would not recompense him for the loss of his good name and that of his house. However, he was something of a philosopher, and finding that there was no help for it, he trotted away to arrange for the soldiers' accommodation.