A single tear slid down her cheek,butthatwas all she would shed. She didn’t bother wiping it away, for therim of her straw bonnet hid her face well enough, and even though the room was starting to grow crowded as the day wore on, she had been blessedly ignoreduntil that point, fading back into the wallpaper like she always had.
Suddenly, a demanding,deep voice separated itself from the rest of the murmured travelers around her. Curious, she glanced up and saw a tall manat the bar,speaking to the man behind the counter.He was dressed as a commonerinsimple, brown trousers and a matching jacket with dull black boots. His sandy-blond hair was tousled from the wind. She wasn’t sure why he might have interested her, for he appeared as any other traveler she might have encountered at the White Horse that afternoon. But then, perhaps it was the fact his tonewasalmosthostilein his conversation with the innkeeper.Ashis voice roseon a threateninggrowl, she clearly heard him say, “Don’t lie to me!Iwastoldtheycame throughhere earlier today!”
Whenhe pounded a fist on the wood, Isabella jumped.Theracketinside the inndissipatedasmuch of the activity came to a halt andseveral heads turned to watch the scene being playing out. As if performing an act on stage, the man reached across the counter and grabbed the barkeep’s cravat in one fist, twisting it until hiseyes bulged for lack of air. “I know you’re scared tospeak out against a gentleman of the nobility, but rest assured—” He shoved his face inches away from his captive. “—you’ll fear much more from methanyour miserable lifeif I don’t find Lord Wistenberry.”
Isabella’s heart stopped in her chest. But it wasn’t until the innkeeper’s face turnedpalefrom a lack of oxygen thatheturned in her direction and nodded fiercely.
The stranger also turned. Isabella began to tremble, andoddly,not justfrom fright,as she was pinned with a single, dark stare,his lefteye covered by a menacing, black eye-patch.
He didn’t take his eye off her as he released the man behind the counter. But the moment he took a step toward her, she rose to her feet. He paused, his lips quirking slightly in the corners as if hecould tellshe was about to flee—andwaslooking forward to the chase.
Isabella didn’t wait to see anything more. She turned and weaved her way as quickly as possible through the crowd.She didn’t look behind her to see if the stranger followed. She didn’t have to, because shehad no doubtthat he was. She couldfeelhim stalking her like apredatortrailing the scent of blood fromitswoundedprey.
Every breath she took threatened to consume her with panic, but she tamped it down and concentrated on moving forward. She forced herself to put one foot in front of the other, until shearrived atthe side door of the inn.When she had her hand safely on the doorknob, she turnedtosee where her pursuer was. She choked on air, for he wasbuta few feet away, his dark eye gleaming as that earlier smile slid into a dangerous grin.
Isabella pushed open the door and shoved itclosedbehind her, looking around for somethingshe could useto wedge it shut from the outside.
From out of nowhere,someone grabbed her from behind and pressed a cloth to her nose.
She clawed at her assailant, struggling to break free, but apleasant scent drifted to her nostrils with every breath, and her eyelids sagged as her head became light.She tried to scream, but all she accomplished was taking in more of thesweet fragrance. Sheblinked several times,her strength waning and her limbs growing heavy. It wouldn’t be long before she was unconscious.
As she slumped against her captor, the door burst open. Groggily, she watched as the stranger strode toward them. She thought perhaps they were in league together, but then he withdrew a pistol from the waistband of his trousers and directed it at a point behind her. “Release the lady or pay with your life.”
“If it ain’t th’ traitor from th’Clara Belle,” the man holding her sneered.
“Aye,” the stranger concurred. “And if you don’t wish to meet the same fate as Spallingand your cohort inside, then I suggest you do as I say.”
Instead of releasing her,the man’sgrip tightened, although the cloth over her nose eased somewhat, so that she was able togaspin a slight bit of oxygen. She closed her eyes in relief, but her head was still spinning.
“I don’t think so, One-Eye. This ledy has a price on’er head. Ye think I’m jus’ gonna give her over t’ ye tha’ easy?”
Isabella’s forehead creased.Did he just say…?But surely he was mistaken. No one would wanther. Even her own husband had left her.
She forced her eyes back open,although the darkness wanted to pull her down into its depths. “Iknewit wouldn’t be easy.” The stranger cocked the pistol, the eye that was revealed narrowing menacingly. “But neither will I take no for an answer.”
She heard the sound of a matching click of a hammer. “Then it appears ye an’ I are at an impasse.”
Isabellaknewshe had to dosomething. She didn’t know why, but the thought of seeing the stranger fall to his death made her chest ache.
With all of the energy she could muster, she stumbled backward into her captor. Her momentum set him off balance,and he uttered a curse right before the pistol was discharged to the side, missing its mark completely.
The momenthis grip lessened,Isabella pushed away from him. Her visionwas blurry,her legs unsteady,asshestumbledaway from the turmoil.Sheheard the sounds of a scuffle behind her, but she didn’tdarelook back.
Keep moving.She kept repeatingthe wordsto herself, even when she fell to her knees and continued to claw her way forward. Every move she made was foggy and disoriented, and she feared that she wouldn’t remain conscious for much longer, but shewouldn’t give up.
Butwhile her determination was strong, her body refused to cooperate. Her arms started to tremble with her weight,andshe realized she wasfaltering.She collapsed onto thehard ground and realized thateverything had fallensilentaround her. She fearedforwho had wonthe battle, not sure if she was comfortable witheitheroutcome, butneither could shego anyfarther.The sunlight on her face waswarm and inviting, her everythought lethargic and displaced as she closed her eyes.
The last thing she heard was the chirp of a birdin the distanceas the drug closedin and eclipsedeverything else.
***
Ridgeshook his hand after that last punch. While it had sent the lady’s captor into dreamland, he wouldn’t be surprised if he’d broken a bone or two. Then again, it wouldn’t be the first time, nor would it likely be the last.As a seasoned agent for the Home Office, he’d had his share of fisticuffs. And worse.
But instead of going down that same, dark path, he walked overto Lady Wistenberry andbent downnear her still form.Heknewhe hadn’t made the best first impression by wearing his eye patch, for the fear in her eyes had been unmistakable. He noticed her breathingwas set into an even rhythm, and he decided it was probably for the best that the ether had takeneffect;otherwise,he’dlikelyhave an overset woman on his hands.
He reached out and untied the bonnetbeneathher chinthengently removedit from her head. When herbrilliantcopper-red hair was revealed, he swallowed hard. He’d seen many beautiful ladies in his lifetime, butshewas in a class all of her own.He lightly touched herpalecheek andsomething clenched in his chestwhenhe found it to beas soft as it appeared. His gaze dippeddownto her pink, full lips, which lookedperfectly kissable…
“Making the ladies swoon again, Claymoore?” Adryvoice drawled from behind himand he stiffened.“Are you sodull that you can’t keep them interested in you long enough to stay awake?”
