He paid no regard to her warning, though she knew well enough he understood the severity of such actions. He wasn’t a foolish man, but then wise men could be pushed to foolishness when feeling helpless. And right now, she knew Burke felt helpless to assist his brother. She felt his pain and empathized, for she had been there once herself.
“I’m not sure,” she said, feeling helpless herself with the situation. “Nothing new has been found and we seem to have hit a dead end.”
“One thing I discovered that is the same in all cultures is that people love to gossip. It seems in this case no one dares open his or her mouth. Which means they fear to, so it would lead me to believe that the person who holds my brother prisoner has the power to make people fear him. Who would be the logical candidate for that?”
Storm admired his intelligence. He was much like her in thinking things through and reaching a conclusion that made sense, though he wasn’t as patient as she was.
“Logic would follow that it would be the Earl of Balford. His connection to the king is known. He asks and gets what he wants,” Storm informed him.
“Then we can go with the idea that Cullen stole something irreplaceable from the earl and he now seeks revenge.”
“It would be reasonable to surmise and a new starting point for us.”
Burke rubbed his chin. “Everything has a price, even a priceless object. Perhaps Cullen tried to sell the object, in which case, where would he go to do that?”
“It depends on the object,” Storm said, a crack of thunder making her jump.
“Afraid of storms, Storm?” Burke smiled. “Is that your true name or do you hide your real identity?
“It is who I am now,” she said, not wanting to recall her birth name, not wanting memories to haunt her. Stormy nights had always proved disastrous for her.
Burke leaned his arms on the table. “Tell me how Storm was born.”
She would tell him, but only so much. “She was born out of necessity. I was unable to tend the farm myself and so I lost it and found myself homeless.”
“There was no one who would help you?” he asked.
That he sounded offended reminded her he was a caring man. She enjoyed gazing on his handsome, rugged features. There was strength in his square jaw and chiseled cheekbones, and though his lips were narrow, they were potent. His kisses attested to that.
She nodded. “Of course, but the price was too steep.”
“Damn,” he said, and pounded the table with his fist. “Men took advantage of you in your time of mourning?”
“What better time to do it? I had nothing. They offered food, a roof over my head.”
“Yet you refused.”
“There were times I thought myself a fool for my decision,” she admitted on a soft laugh. “But I knew it was the only decision I could have made. Besides, I began meeting other people in the same predicament and we joined forces. We began to forage on the landlords’ precious estates and steal from wealthy travelers along the roads. One rescue led to another, then another. That started my career as an outlaw.”
“And that’s when Storm was born.”
“Exactly. I arrived on a stormy night, an avenging angel to free the innocent, and I will probably leave this world on a stormy night defending the innocent.”
He reached out and grabbed hold of her hand. “You will not.”
“It isn’t your decision.”
“You will not sacrifice yourself senselessly.”
She yanked her hand away and stood, nearly tumbling the chair over. “Perhaps you should tell that to Henry or Peter, that what I did for them was senseless.”
Burke stood slowly. “I did not mean—”
“What you said? It was clear to me.” She folded her arms firmly across her chest, waiting for him to explain, though why she would even give him a chance to redeem himself was beyond her.
He approached her with cautious steps. “There will always be the less fortunate, those who need defending. Every society has them.”
“And there will always be those who choose to defend them.”
