A Knight of Honor (8 page)

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Authors: Laurel O'Donnell

BOOK: A Knight of Honor
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“S
omeone must pay for all of this!” the innkeeper shouted, spreading his hands wide to indicate the broken tables and smashed mugs and spilled food scattered over the floor.
 
“Look at my inn!
 
Who will return here to drink?”

Slane ignored him, rubbing his cut lip.
 
He and Jared had made quick work of the rat-faced man’s companions.
 
Three of them had quickly fled; the burly man still lay unconscious on the floor.
 
The one hit Slane had taken on his jaw was the first, last, and only blow that came anywhere near touching him.
 
Now he lifted his head and cast a glance at Jared, who still stood guard at the door, waiting for Sully’s return.

Jared paced the doorway like a father worried about his daughter.
 
Slane could see the tense muscles along Jared’s shoulder blades as he clenched and released his fists.
 
Once he jerked forward as if to pursue Taylor, but then pulled back, resigned to let her deal with Irwin alone.
 
Jared caught Slane’s gaze and shook his head.
 
Slane was sure now of their relationship.
 
If they had been lovers, Jared would have gone out after her.

“How am I to do business?
 
Where are my customers to eat?” the innkeeper was going on.

Slane was tired of hearing the man complain.
 
His head was pounding from the blow.
 
“It will be taken care of,” he snapped impatiently.
 
The innkeeper withdrew at Slane’s harsh tone.
 
For some reason, Slane felt uneasy.
 
He wasn’t sure if it was because Sully hadn’t returned yet or because they had found the ring but not the girl he sought.
 
He groaned softly and raked his hands through his hair.
 
God’s blood! he thought.
 
Perhaps she isn’t even alive anymore.

Slane’s thoughts turned to Sully.
 
She should have been back by now.
 
He looked at Jared, who was straining to see down the darkening street.
 
Outside, thick sheets of rain cut off any visibility beyond a few feet.
 
Slane could hear the heavy splashes on the roof and just outside the open door.
 
Despite her battered face, she appeared to be able to take care of herself, he reminded himself.
 
But she was rash and impulsive; what if something had happened to her?

Slane rose and stepped over a fallen man to place a comforting hand on Jared’s shoulder.
 
“She’ll be back,” Slane assured.

Jared sighed, keeping his gaze on the street “I’ll give her a few more minutes and then I’m going out after her.”

“You’ll never find her in this rain,” Slane said, dropping his hand.
 
Despite his pessimism, Slane knew he would help Jared find Sully.
 
Even in this torrential downpour.
 
Part of this was his fault after all.
 
He leaned against the wall and fingered the pouch Jared had taken, then turned it over to empty the contents into his palm.
 
Four shillings and the ring fell into his hand.
 
Slane snorted.
 
What good was the ring if the Sullivan girl was not wearing it?
 
He tossed the four shillings onto the body at his feet.
 
They disappeared into the folds of the burly man’s shirt.

Jared picked up a fallen chair from the floor and righted it.
 
He sat down heavily, shaking his head.

A worried father, Slane thought.

Silence descended on the room like a cloak.
 
Slane caught the innkeeper peering at him from around a corner, but the man quickly ducked back into hiding when he met Slane’s gaze.

“I can’t leave you two anywhere.”

Slane looked up at the cheery voice to see Sully sloshing in through the open front door, her clothing soaked through to her skin, her hair dripping with the heavy rain’s wrath.

“Look at the mess you made.”

A strange feeling of relief engulfed Slane at the sight of her bruised and battered face.
 
And he noticed with satisfaction there were no new marks.

Jared shot out of his chair.
 
“Are you all right?”

Sully nodded.

“And Irwin?
 
Is he...?”

“He won’t bother us again,” she promised gravely.
 
Her gaze swung to Slane.
 
“Well, did you get what you were after?”

Slane grasped the ring by two fingers, holding it up so she could see it.

Taylor strolled over to him and snatched the ring from his hand, inspecting it.

When she shifted her gaze to Slane, he saw the sparkle of triumph in the one green eye that was not swollen.
 
Slane grabbed Taylor’s wet forearm, leading her away from the prying ears of the innkeeper to a still standing table near the flaming hearth.

Taylor quickly pulled out of his grasp, moving away from the fire.
 
Slane glanced quizzically at her, then followed her to a table well away from the warmth of the flames.
 
He took a seat opposite her.
 
“First, a word of thanks for helping me find the ring.”

Taylor shrugged slightly and opened her mouth as if to speak, but Slane hurried on.
 
“How did you know who had it?” he asked.

“I know a lot of things,” she said evasively.

Slane grunted.
 
“He took it from you, didn’t he?” He watched the unease spread across her face.
 
Then she straightened, as if readying herself for something.
 
But for what?
 
To battle him?
 
“I will let you keep it if you tell me one thing.”

Her posture didn’t relax; she remained as stiff as a board.

He leaned closer to her to whisper, “Who did you steal the ring from?”

Something flashed over her face.
 
Slane couldn’t tell if it was fear or anger.

“Where is she?
 
Did you kill her?” he continued.

Her eyes narrowed to thin slits.
 
“I’m wounded, Slane,” she said in a clipped tone.
 
“Really, I am.
 
I’m not in the habit of stealing.”
 
She shook her head, her long, wet locks waving about her shoulders.
 
“Furthermore, I don’t kill women.
 
That is unless they deserve it.”
 
Drops of rain fell from her wet clothing as she rose before him, planting her hands on her slim hips.
 
“You disappoint me, Slane.”
 
She took his hand and opened it, depositing the ring in his palm.
 
“Give us our payment and we’ll be gone.”

Slane set the ring back down on the table, pointing to it.
 
“How did you happen to be in possession of this when that Irwin took it from you?”

“I’m afraid the time for questions is over,” she said.
 
“And so is our employment.
 
If you’ll just hand over our payment...”

Slane frowned, cursing the irrationality of females.
 
He searched her eyes as if trying to find the answers there, then snatched the ring and placed it in a leather pouch at his waist.
 
With a muttered curse, he reached into his coin pouch to pay her.

 

 

***

 

 

Slane removed the pouches from his belt and tossed them onto the table beside the bed.
 
He shook his head.
 
He wasn’t quite sure where to pick up the trail of the Sullivan woman.
 
Jared and Sully had been his best chance.

He removed his sword and belt and was preparing to take off his tunic when a knock sounded on his door.
 
Slane growled in frustration and impatience, then moved to the door.

The innkeeper stood there, wringing his hands.
 
“There is a man downstairs asking to speak with you.”

“Fine,” Slane said and followed the stocky fellow down the stairs.
 
When they came to the common room, Slane’s eyes scanned the area, but no one seemed to be looking for him.
 
He turned to the innkeeper.

“He must have left,” the innkeeper said, shrugging.

“What did he look like?” Slane asked.

The innkeeper shrugged.
 
“Tall, dark hair.
 
Slim.”

Didn’t sound familiar.
 
“Well, if he comes back, tell him to wait until morning,” Slane said and stalked back up the stairs.

Once back in his room, he removed his tunic and fell onto the straw bed.
 
He wondered briefly who would be looking for him here.
 
Had John sent him word about Elizabeth?
 
Or was there news from Castle Donovan?
 
He shrugged the questions away and his weary mind immediately focused on Sully.
 
There was something about her...
 
He couldn’t quite put his finger on it.
 
She was like no one he had ever met before.

Intelligent, brave, impulsive.
 
But she was also defiant, headstrong, and impetuous.

He reached over to the table beside the bed and grabbed the pouch that held the ring.
 
It crunched.

Scowling in confusion, Slane pulled the pouch open.
 
It was empty save for a piece of parchment.
 
The beginnings of outrage ate at the borders of his mind.
 
His jaw clenched tight as he pulled the parchment out and unfolded it.

 

Lord Slane,

Thank you for helping me retrieve my mother’s ring.

Sully

 

Awash in amazement, Slane could only stare at the note.
 
But then his hands began to tremble with anger as he slowly crumpled the note in a clenched fist.

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE
 

 

 

 

“Y
ou shouldn’t have told him.”
 
Jared practically had to shout over the din of the falling rain.

“I couldn’t resist knocking his arrogance down a notch.
 
Can you believe he thought I killed myself?” Taylor hooted.

“He’ll be looking for you now,” Jared reminded her, as their horses struggled down the dark, muddy road.
 
“Before, he had no idea who you were.”

Taylor shrugged slightly.
 
“It should be no problem keeping ahead of him.
 
He doesn’t know the towns and people like we do.
 
Besides, he’s no tracker.
 
Why do you think he had to hire us?”

Jared grunted his disapproval, wiping the steady stream of rain from his eyes.
 
“It’s dangerous to ride at night like this, Sully,” he said.
 
“I don’t like it.”

“We’ve done it before,” she said.
 
“The only thing I don’t like is this rain.”
 
She glanced up at the black, black night, which hid the moon and stars, and she blinked away the raindrops splashing in her eyes.

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