If You Dare - Cole Kresley - Страница 58

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"Retribution?" Hugh asked.

"A thousand times."

"I'll ride with you."

Court shook his head. "I already owe you more than my life."

"We leave at dawn," Hugh said, ignoring the last.

Erskine called down in a high, panicked voice that a bath was waiting.

Court vaguely heard Llorente speaking. Not her husband. Must let her go. Can't care for her.

He faced Llorente, felt his teeth bared, heard the other woman snap, "Don't be stupid, Llorente! He won't hurt her."

Court had started for the stairs when Anna finally spoke, "I'll be fine. I am usually stronger during these things." Her voice was faltering, her words sounding hollow.

During these things. If she'd died, he would have meted out death and torment as they'd never known.

"Why is everyone acting so strangely?" Anna asked.

Olivia said, "Everyone is acting strangely because your pupils are the size of tea saucers, you're covered in blood, and you have gun oil smeared on your temple. You're also deep in shock."

"Oh," she answered in a small voice. "Courtland, put me down, or I'll become embarrassed. You've never reacted like this before."

Before.

Llorente yelled something from below, apparently restrained by Hugh. Monster, brutal, killer, blamed. The last thing Court heard was Hugh telling him, "You're lucky Court didn't snap your neck out there." Llorente was. The impulse had been there.

In her room, he set her on the foot of the bed, helping her sit up as he undressed her. He'd done this a hundred times, yet he could scarcely get the first button undone. He ripped at her dress—surprising how easily the fabric parted—until he'd stripped her. Lifting her in his arms, he set her in the bath, then knelt beside her.

Cupping warm water over her shoulders, he asked, "Anna, are you all right?" He didn't recognize his own voice.

"Of course." She was looking straight ahead. Her eyes wouldn't adjust. So bright in this room, and her pupils wouldn't recede. When he determined she could sit up by herself, he rushed to the lamp to turn it down, then strode back beside her.

He took a cloth and brushed at the blood on her face and neck, scrubbed her wee hands. "There's a good lass," he bit out as he washed her hair. The oil at her temple didn't want to come clean, and he couldn't rub much harder.

She would already have a bruise from the barrel. He shuddered violently.

"Courtland? You must try to be patient with Aleix." Her voice sounded confused. "He is not like my fierce Scot. The fighting is new to him, and he thinks he'll lose me as he lost Mariette and the little baby girl. I am his last family."

"Mo cridhe, you know I will do anythin' you ask of me." He put his forehead against her shoulder.

"I do know that," she said softly.

He felt her relaxing, then tensing as she fought sleep, so he rinsed her hair and body, then placed her on her feet to dry her. A cursory glance around the room revealed a nightgown and some of Court's clothes laid out for them. He dressed her in the gown before bundling her in the bed under several blankets.

The sight of his clean clothes reminded him that he had blood on himself as well. Fearing she'd be alarmed later, he stripped and rinsed with the remaining buckets of water. He swiftly dressed then pulled a chair over so he could sit beside her.

"I don't know why I'm so sleepy." She reached out her hand for his. "I've been so tired lately." He took it, put his elbows on his knees, and leaned forward to press his face down against her palm. When she slept, he didn't let it go.

Llorente walked in shortly after. Court glanced up without interest, vaguely noticing he'd broken at least Llorente's nose.

"I want to see my sister." His voice was thick, from either emotion or injuries.

Hugh came striding in directly after him, most likely to protect Llorente.

"Hugh, relax, I will no' hurt him any longer," he said, but he eyed Llorente crossing to the other side of the bed to study her face.

Apparently assured, Hugh said, "We need to plan. Ethan wants to speak with you. I can stay with her."

"Tell him to come here. I'll no' leave her." Court noted his hand had tightened on hers.

"He's with Olivia."

"Bring her as well, then, but I'm no' leaving."

Hugh glanced at Anna. "We will no' disturb her?"

"No, she will no' wake."

When Hugh left the room, Llorente said, "And you would know that because you've been sleeping with her?"

"Aye." He defied Llorente to say something about it now.

The look in his eyes must have dissuaded Llorente from that subject, becaused he asked, "Are you certain she wasn't injured?"

"She's bruised. She's in shock. No more."

Hugh and Ethan returned with a table and chairs, Olivia following. Erskine brought the coffee service and then exited without a word.

Court reluctantly relinquished Anna's hand and tucked it under the blanket. After he tugged the cover higher to her chin, he strode over to sit.

Llorente pulled a chair, uninvited, to the table, studying them. He would have to be wondering how Hugh could shoot like that, would have to be wondering about Ethan's lethal demeanor and how he'd received his twisting scar. Though Court knew Llorente was baffled by all this as well as Court and Anna's relationship, he wisely asked nothing.

Court began, "Ethan, I need you to stay here with her." He caught Ethan's eyes, showing him how much he was entrusting to him.

"Aye. I'll bring in some men as well," Ethan said.

"If we doona come back, you must take Anna to Carrickliffe among the clan. Make them swear to her."

"It's done."

"And what of Olivia?" Llorente asked. "She must stay with Annalia."

Court swung a glance at him. "You can take care of Olivia."

"If you're hunting the Rechazados, I'm going as well." He ran a sleeve over his still bleeding lip.

"You stay here," Court said.

"That's my land and my people. I need to be there if you're going in."

"He's right, Court," Hugh said. "He'll just follow us down anyway."

Court shrugged. "You'll get in the way of what I'm after only once."

Llorente narrowed his eyes at that, then said, "And Olivia?" He didn't understand what he was asking for.

Hugh said, "Ethan, just agree to it. They'll need to be together."

Ethan hesitated for several seconds, then inclined his head. And with that, a man considered wicked by so many—often rightly so—would now risk his life for both of them. "Court, what do you know about the order?"

Court leaned forward, struggling to become cold, to focus on what they had to do. "They prefer to stay as a unified corps, dispatching smaller groups. If we could get close enough to where they camp, we could take them out at one time."

"There will just be new ones enlisted," Llorente said.

Court shook his head. "If you take out all of them, who's to pass on their orders?"

Hugh added, "I've read about them as well"—read about them, no doubt, in a thick dossier with the instructions "engage at will." "Even if you canna take them all, if you eliminate their leader, it's like cutting the head off a snake."

"But it won't matter if Pascal lives," Llorente pointed out. "He'll keep sending men. He's got an army of deserters wanting to rise in the ranks."

"Then we have to kill them to a man," Court answered, obviously surprising Llorente. Court gave him a look of disgust. "Did you possibly conceive that I would leave a single man alive who would hurt her?"

"You're talking about the Rechazados, the deserters and Pascal. In one campaign?"

"Aye."

Llorente nodded slowly. "We'll need more men."

Hugh said, "No' for the Rechazados, if they camp together and if we have the right…gear." Explosives. "So we'd need men only for the deserters. Court, can you contact your crew?"

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