The thin man’s eyes widened.His hand faltered on his weapon as the third man drew closer.Finally, he let out a fearful squeak, dropped the dagger, and lit out after his friend.
As Eve watched them escape, a bolt of disappointment streaked through her.She felt she’d been making progress with the two thieves.Offered them redemption.Given them a wee glimpse of hope.In another moment, she might have convinced them to come along to the priory.If they had, she might have been able to change their lives.Helped them to mend their wicked ways.
Now they were back on the road to ruin.Worse, this new outlaw didn’t appear to believe in redemption.
“Haven’t ye read the Scripture,” he purred in a Highland brogue, “a leopard cannot change its spots?”
“Jeremiah,” she replied out of habit.
She narrowed her eyes at him.It was too dark to see beneath the floppy cap he wore.But she could feel his mild derision.This thief she’d never persuade with promises of salvation.She’d have to use another tactic.
He bent down to scoop up the discarded dagger.
She had to think fast before he decided to use it.
“Here,” she said, lifting her hands to her hair.“Take my pearls.They’ll be easier for ye to sell.”
She figured he’d do one of three things.
Settle for the pearls and be on his way.
Refuse the pearls and demand the silver.
Or take the pearlsanddemand the silver.
Instead, using the point of the dagger, he tipped up the front of his cap to study her, revealing a pair of all-too-familiar glittering and puzzled eyes.“God’s blood, m’lady.Who the devilareye?”
Chapter 4
Adam hadn’t meant to reveal himself.And he hadn’t meant to blurt the question out like that.He usually had a more conversational manner.A smoother tongue.He could tease information out of people without asking direct questions.
But this woman—with her impressive disguises and her changeable beauty and those eyes that looked deep into his soul—drained all the subtlety out of him.
“Adam?”she choked out.
The word jarred him.For one terrible instant, he thought she recognized him as a Rivenloch.Then he remembered he’d slipped and told her his real first name.But—damn his memory—he couldn’t recall what last name he’d given her.
“M’lady,” he said with a tip of his cap.He immediately regretted calling her that.In light of her penchant for disguises, it seemed more likely she was not a true lady, but an outlaw.
“Ye followed me,” she accused.
He wondered if her Irish accent was as fake as his Highland one.
“I did,” he said.
“Ye meant to rob me then,” she decided, releasing a disappointed sigh.“So ye’re just a common thief after all.”
“Now hold on.I’m not a—”
“I should have known.”
“Known what?I’m tellin’ ye I’m not a—”
“No better than the men ye chased off.”
“What the…?”
Why was she putting the screws to him?He’d just saved her from those thieves.
