Claire couldn't help but palm her cheek, looking to Quentin and not the lout. Her brows lifted toward her hair line as worry lines briefly appeared. She was not going to back away now, but good lord. She opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she realized that she literally had nothing to say. For the first time in her damned life, she was cowed enough to be speechless, having witnessed the drunkard in his natural state and having felt that dim little bit of hope ease out of her like a sad little fart. He was going to lead them in some merry chase. If he ruined her adventure, why... she would ease the tip of her boot firmly up his bottom.