A Knight of Honor (16 page)

Her gaze moved on, stopping on Slane, where he stood talking with the innkeeper.
 
She started to look away, but there was something about Slane that drew her gaze back to him.
 
He was quite an imposing figure, taller than the innkeeper by two handbreadths.
 
His strong hands rested on his hips as he spoke, the hard edges of his muscles plainly visible beneath the sheer fabric of his tunic.
 
His blond mane coursed past his shoulders in a shimmering yellow-gold waterfall of hair.
 
As if feeling her gaze on him, Slane turned to her and smiled a soft, pleasant smile.
 
She smiled in return and kept smiling even after he’d turned away.

A morning yawn broke her reverie.
 
I must be more tired than I realize, Taylor mused to herself.
 
That was the only reason she could think of to explain the warmth that flushed into her belly at Slane’s smile.
 
Jared would be ashamed of me, she thought.
 
He had taught her to stay alert, to keep her senses sharp no matter how tired her body felt.
 
It was the only way to survive, to avoid any men her father had sent out after her, and Jared insisted it become as natural to her as taking a breath: Be wary of everyone; trust no one.
 
Now it was second nature to her.
 
Or so she had believed.
 
Yet here she was, feeling muddled by a simple smile from a man she knew little about.
 
Why was she blindly following Slane to his brother’s castle?
 
Because she had nowhere else to go?

Or was it because Jared was gone, because she needed someone on her side when the world seemed so against her?
 
And Slane was the only one who was around.
 
But she knew there was more to it than just that.
 
She liked provoking him.
 
She liked sparring with him.
 
She liked Slane.
 
He was everything she was not.
 
He had everything she did not.
 
And even though he so obviously disapproved of the way she lived her life, every once in a while she would catch him watching her.
 
And there was an amiable look in his eyes, a fond look, a look that made her want to be in his arms.

No.
 
She never wanted to feel that way.

She quickly continued her scan of the inn, turning her thoughts away from Slane.
 
Two men, merchants by the looks of their bejeweled fingers and foppish hats, were watching her from a table near the hearth.
 
Her perusal was interrupted by a large man rising noisily from another table.
 
He pushed his chair back quickly, almost violently, never taking his gaze from Taylor as he left his two companions and approached her.

For a moment, she met his gaze evenly, but there was something disturbingly familiar about this fat man glowering down at her.
 
Slowly, recognition dawned on her face and her body tensed.
 
Taylor looked back at his table to see his two friends watching her with crooked smiles on their lips.

The fat man slammed his hands down onto the table before her.
 
“Sully?”
 
His chortle reverberated through the room.
 
“I knew we’d meet up again someday.”
 
His voice was nasal, marked with an unpleasant wheezing that instantly grated on her nerves.
 
She remembered him all right.

“Hello, Hugh,” she greeted coldly.
 
“It’s been a long time.”

Hugh turned, his gaze sweeping the room.
 
“Where’s Jared?”

“He’s not here,” she told him.

Hugh returned his stare to her, his brows furrowing.
 
“What do you mean he’s not here?
 
You two are inseparable.”

“He’s not here,” she repeated.

Hugh pulled out a chair and seated his bulk in it, grunting as he sat.
 
The chair legs bowed beneath the weight.
 
“That’s a damn shame,” Hugh said softly.
 
“A damn shame.”
 
His breath whistled in and out of his squat nose.

“You still working in flesh, Hugh?” Taylor wondered.

Hugh smiled a grotesque grin, full of missing and decaying teeth.
 
“I prefer to call it pleasure.”

His laugh sent a waft of rotted meat stench her way and Taylor couldn’t help but grimace.

“You and Jared owe me a lot of coin,” Hugh said.
 
“That girl could have brought in a lot for me.”

“She was a child,” Taylor almost snarled.

“Many lords like ‘em young,” Hugh retorted.

Taylor felt her teeth clench.

“Innocent,” Hugh added, reaching across the table to rub his greasy hand up and down her arm.
 
The trilling whistle of his breath set her teeth on edge.
 
“The way I figure it, if you come work for me, I can make up the coin in no time.
 
I bet you’re a wild ride.”

Taylor’s eyes narrowed slightly.
 
“It’s like this, Hugh,” she said calmly.
 
“The world would be a better place if you weren’t in it.
 
And if you don’t take your hand from me this instant, I’m going to have to make the world a better place.”

Hugh stopped stroking her arm, and Taylor was pleased to see the anger in his eyes.
 
He withdrew his hand.
 
“I’m sorry you see it like that.
 
Then I have no choices left.
 
Give me the coin you owe me.”

“I owe you nothing.”

“You killed two of my men that night,” Hugh snarled.

“And I’d kill ten more to keep a child out of your repulsive grip.
 
Get out of here now before I have to slit your throat.
 
You make me sick.”

Hugh shot upward, overturning the table in his angered rush to get to his feet.
 
His hand went to the dagger stuck into the sash at his waist, but Taylor was ready for him.
 
Her sword was already freed and pointed at Hugh’s rotund belly.

“What seems to be the problem?”

Taylor recognized the familiar voice and swiveled her eyes to see Slane standing at her side.

“This doesn’t concern you,” Hugh spat.
 
“So back off.”
 
His shrill breathing seemed to grow louder with each passing moment.

Slane cast Taylor a cursory glance.
 
“It does concern me.
 
You see, the lady is with me.”

“Lady?”
 
Hugh glanced at his men.
 
“You fellows see a lady anywhere near here?”

His men laughed snidely.

Taylor didn’t respond to his goading, keeping the tip of her sword a mere inch from his jutting belly, the distaste for the huge man towering over her clearly etched into every line of her face.

Hugh turned his attention to Slane.
 
“She stole something that was mine.
 
She owes me quite a bit of coin.”

Slane dipped his hand into the pouch at his waist.

Taylor pushed herself to her feet instantly, pressing her hand over Slane’s to still his movement.
 
“He gets no coin,” she said quietly.

“Then you die,” Hugh replied.

“That remains to be seen,” Taylor snapped back.

“This can all be negotiated,” Slane said.
 
“There’s no need for fighting.”

Hugh glared at Taylor, his eyes red and burning with rage and wronged pride.
 
Finally, he looked at Slane, his gaze sweeping his body as if summing him up.
 
“Yes,” he said after a long moment.
 
“I believe we men can work this all out.”
 
His breath wheezed in and out.

Hugh swung an arm up around Slane’s shoulders as if they had been friends all their lives.
 
Taylor felt her teeth clench.
 
She felt bile rise in her throat.
 
She wanted to slap Hugh’s arm off of Slane’s shoulder.

Just as she began to lower her sword, she saw Hugh’s hand dip to his sash.
 
The dull edge of his dagger gleamed from his waist as his hand slithered down to it.
 
Taylor rushed forward, instinctively tightening her hold on her weapon.

Hugh’s hand closed over the dagger’s handle and he pulled it from his sash.
 
But he never had a chance to raise it before Taylor’s weapon cut deep into his wrist.
 
Hugh dropped the weapon, howling in pain, clutching his bleeding wrist.

Slane turned furious, shocked eyes to Taylor.
 
She stood at the ready, half expecting Hugh’s friends to join the battle, but they remained seated at the table, watching the events play out without making a move.

“The witch cut me!” Hugh protested, his voice thick with pain.

“You did that for revenge!” Slane accused Taylor.
 
“And when his back was turned.”

Amazed at Slane’s verbal attack, Taylor opened her mouth to defend herself.
 
But slowly, she closed it.
 
She didn’t need to explain her actions to anyone.
 
Jared would certainly never have questioned her judgment.
 
But Slane was not Jared.
 
Taylor thrust her blade back into its sheath.
 
Her hands were clenched so tight they ached.
 
The thickheaded fool!
 
She couldn’t believe he took Hugh’s side over hers!

Taylor lifted her chin, refusing to acknowledge the ache in her soul.
 
That’s how he sees me, she thought.
 
As no better than Hugh.
 
And why the hell should I set him straight?
 
Why should I?

“Why did you do it?” Slane asked.

She whirled to face him, her angry eyes lashing him with a thousand rebukes.
 
She faced him furiously for the beat of a heart.
 
At just that moment, the sun shone in through one of the inn’s windows, capturing his sapphire eyes in its glow.
 
She was furious with him, yes.
 
Furious with him for being so damned self-righteous.
 
Furious with him for being so damned noble.
 
Furious with him for being the most handsome man she had ever seen.
 
But she was more furious with herself for caring what he thought of her, for letting him get close enough to make her this angry.

She brought her steaming anger under control and faced him with a cold calm.
 
“I guess I did it for revenge,” she snapped before whirling away from him and storming outside.

Slane watched her move away.
 
Then he looked down at the floor, where Hugh’s dagger blinked up at him in the glowing light of the sun.

***

They traveled the entire day, pausing only twice to rest the horses Slane had purchased in Sudbury.
 
As the sun set, they came upon an inn.
 
Buried in the middle of the forest, the building was more like a two-story cottage than an inn.
 
They tethered the horses in the pen, where a stable boy promised to care for them.

Slane stepped through the dimly lit doorway.
 
Taylor followed and immediately ordered an ale.
 
The tall, lanky innkeeper’s gaze swept her; then he snorted in disapproval before turning away from her, only to reappear seconds later with an ale.