A Knight of Honor (33 page)

Slane shook his head, drawing himself up.
 
“I gave my word to Richard to see her safely to him.”

Elizabeth sighed, wrapping her arms around him.
 
“Oh, Slane.”

Where once Slane’s body would have relaxed in his future wife’s arms, it now only stiffened.

M
oments later, Slane bid Elizabeth good night and softly closed her door.
 
He turned to his room across the hall, but his gaze was caught by another door.
 
Taylor’s door.
 
He stared hard at the wooden barrier, wishing that the door would fade away so he could see her sleeping peacefully behind it.
 
Finally, he turned to his room.

“Slane?”

The voice spun him around.

“Are you all right?” John asked.

Slane nodded, running a hand over his brow.
 
“Just tired.”

John nodded.
 
“I suppose it has been rather a trying journey,” he said.
 
He stared thoughtfully at Taylor’s door for a moment.
 
“She’s nothing like I expected.”

Slane dropped his hand from his brow.
 
“What do you mean?”
 
He felt a surge of defensiveness rise inside him.

“I don’t know,” John continued.
 
“I never expected to find her a mercenary.
 
Maybe an alewife or a seamstress, but not a mercenary.
 
A woman who fights with a sword...”

Slane forced the protectiveness from him and nodded.
 
“It was a shock to us all.”
 
He slapped John’s shoulder.
 
“At least I found her.”
 
He moved to take a step past his friend, but John’s whisper stopped him.

“There’s a man downstairs.
 
He entered a few moments ago.
 
I think he’s a mercenary.”

Instantly Slane moved past John and descended the stairs.
 
Was it one of the mercenaries Richard had sent?
 
Slane cursed the reward his brother had offered for the return of Taylor.

He saw the man as soon as he cleared the second floor.
 
He was warming himself by the fire, his brown hair brushing his shoulders.
 
His leather armor was worn and barely reflected the light of the flames.
 
The man glanced over his shoulder and Slane recognized him immediately.
 
Colm Duffy -- one of the men Richard had hired to find Taylor.

Colm rose as Slane approached.
 
“Lord Donovan,” Colm greeted, holding his hand out to him.

Slane clasped his forearm.
 
“Duffy,” he said and studied Colm’s face.
 
But the pale blue eyes gave away nothing.

“What are you doing here, m’lord?” Colm wondered.

“You’ve tracked her here, haven’t you?”

Colm dropped Slane’s arm.
 
“It’s true then.”
 
He rubbed the back of his neck.
 
“Damn.
 
That reward money would have come in handy.”

“She is under my protection now,” Slane said firmly.

Colm spread his hands before him.
 
“You’ll get no argument from me, but how’d you find her?
 
I’ve been tracking her for weeks now.”

“She came to me,” Slane said evasively.

“Is it true she’s injured?” Colm asked.

Slane gave him a sharp look.
 
Then he caught a movement out of the corner of his eye and shifted his gaze to see the innkeeper duck out of the room.
 
Damn fool, he thought.
 
He’s got a mouth bigger than an abyss.
 
Slane nodded in answer to Colm’s question.

“You can’t stay here,” Colm whispered.
 
“It’s too dangerous.”

“I can’t move her,” Slane replied, turning his back to Colm to stare into the flickering flames.
 
“Not yet.”

“Corydon’s men are all over.
 
And they have no interest in any reward.
 
They just want her dead.
 
You can’t stay here.”

Slane’s jaw clenched tight.
 
It could be a week before she was able to travel.
 
And every day would lead Corydon closer and closer to them.
 
“I have no choice, right now.”

“I’m glad I don’t have to make that decision,” Colm murmured, turning back to the fire.
 
“I’m not spending but the night and I’ll be on my way.”

“Where are you headed?” Slane wondered.

“Not sure yet.
 
I suppose wherever there’s pay to be made,” Colm answered.
 
He glanced up the stairs, then back at Slane.
 
“Is it true your betrothed is here, too?”

Slane nodded.

“M’lord, if the Sullivan woman is hurt, she has no choice but to stay.
 
But lady Elizabeth should not be here.”

As long as she was trapped at the inn with them, Elizabeth’s life was in as much danger as Taylor’s.
 
The constant tension Slane felt in his shoulders suddenly renewed its intensity, tightening his muscles until they were as taut as a freshly strung bow.

“I’d be willing to see your lady safely to Castle Donovan for only a few gold pieces,” Colm suggested.

Slane’s body stiffened.
 
He knew escorting Elizabeth was his responsibility.
 
He should be the one to see his future wife safely to his brother’s castle.
 
But he couldn’t.
 
Not with Taylor lying hurt.
 
He couldn’t do two things at once.
 
And Taylor needed his protection more.
 
She was the one Corydon was after.
 
She was the one Corydon wanted to kill.

Elizabeth should not be where the danger was.
 
Two men could offer Elizabeth the protection she needed to travel safely to Castle Donovan.
 
John and Colm.
 
He would send John with Elizabeth and pay Colm to accompany them.
 
She would be safe that way.
 
No harm would befall her.
 
And he would see her again when he and Taylor reached Castle Donovan.

He nodded his head in acquiescence, not at all surprised at how easy the answer had come.

***

Slane leaned against the wall just outside Taylor’s door.
 
He knew she wouldn’t leave through the window.
 
She had to know that her wound would start bleeding if she tried to hang from a rope.
 
No, he thought.
 
She’s stubborn, but not stupid.

The shadows of the hallway would keep him hidden long enough to see her face as she emerged from her room.
 
She would come this way.
 
He was sure of it.

He had waited all night and was beginning to wonder if she had played him for the fool when he heard the creak of a door.
 
His head snapped up and he saw a shadowy figure emerge from her room.

He sighed and straightened, preparing himself for the confrontation.
 
He waited until she started down the hallway before moving silently up behind her.

Suddenly, she whirled on him, halting his movement.
 
Those fabulous green eyes were slitted, but he couldn’t help but stare into them as if he were caught in a spell.
 
Then something glinted in the torchlight and he dropped his gaze to see a dagger, the tip pointing at his stomach.

“You’re up rather late tonight, eh, Slane?”
 
Her voice was rich and soft.

“What are you planning to do with that?”

She turned the blade over in her palm.
 
“No one makes me stay where I don’t want to.
 
And I got the distinct impression that you weren’t going to let me leave.”

“You think to run me through with that?” he demanded in disbelief.

“I don’t need to run you through to disable you,” she replied.

Slane thought he heard sadness in her voice, but he couldn’t be sure.
 
Anger surged within him.
 
“You would have to do more than run me through to disable me,” he retorted.

“Don’t make this difficult,” she said, taking a step backward.

“I can’t let you leave,” he said, his voice rising a little.

“I don’t think you have much choice.”
 
She took a step down the stairs.

Slane surged forward, catching her wrist in his hand.
 
They stood that way for a moment, glaring into each other’s eyes.
 
“It will get you nowhere to leave.
 
Face your destiny.”

“My destiny is not to see my father,” Taylor said.

“At least talk to him,” Slane urged.

“I don’t think so.”
 
She attempted to yank her arm away.

Slane held it tightly.
 
“It’s the only way you’ll be free of this.
 
Do you think –”

She brought her foot down hard on his foot.
 
Pain exploded up his leg, but he did not release her wrist.
 
On the contrary, his grip tightened until he saw agony glitter in her eyes, and she opened her hand, dropping the dagger to the floor.

Her eyes danced with anger and determination.
 
Slane knew she would try to flee again and again.
 
And he couldn’t watch her every moment.
 
The more he held her, the more she fought to be free.

Slowly, he released her wrist.

Shock made her eyes round.
 
She backed up one step, then another, never taking her eyes from him.

Slane watched her back away.
 
What was he thinking?
 
He couldn’t let her go!
 
But he couldn’t hold her either.
 
There had to be a way.

Another step.

He wanted to cry out to her.
 
He wanted to beg her to stay.
 
If she walked out that door, he was sure the next time he saw her she wouldn’t be capable of drawing a breath.

Another step.

He felt despair burn in his chest.
 
He remembered when he first laid eyes on her.
 
Her face might have been bruised, yet her spirit was indomitable.
 
It always had been.

Another step.

But Slane was sure she couldn’t get through this.
 
Not alone.
 
Not with Corydon and the mercenaries after her.
 
Thanks to him, they knew who she was now.
 
They knew her face.

Another step.