If You Dare - Cole Kresley - Страница 62

• Предыдущая
• 62/68
• Следующая

"We need to discuss some plans with you," Hugh said, all business.

"Well, there's a salon in the front we can go to." Niall pointed out the direction. "By the dismal look on our Court's face, I think he'll be wantin' to avoid the study and the desk."

Hugh raised his eyebrows, and Court scowled.

Niall again slapped Court hard on the back. This time in sympathy. "Lass steal your heart?"

Court surprised himself by answering, "I'll no' be gettin' it back."

Hugh called for Llorente, who reluctantly followed them to the salon, looking dazed with anger. He sat silently and stiffly, appearing uncomfortable in his own home. Court knew no man had ever hated him as much as Llorente. He shrugged.

Once they'd all taken seats, Niall outlined the situation. "Andorra was chaos with people fleeing to high peaks and the deserters battling to escape when the main route to Spain was blocked. We've cleaned the countryside of them, collecting the bounties, but there's a group of about two hundred huddled down around Pascal."

"How many Rechazados are left?" Court asked.

"We took out six in the shootout at the border." Niall looked up to the ceiling, remembering. "Poor MacMungan, the younger one, lost an ear. MacTiernay got shot through his hand. A hole only as big as a beer stein, so it was no' too terrible—"

Hugh interrupted, "Seven more down in addition to that. Niall, we're leaving today to assassinate Pascal and take out the remaining Rechazados for good."

Niall nodded in understanding. "And I suppose you rode here first because you want us to round up the remaining deserters? Make even more money?" He eyed him hard. "Only 'cause you're family." He glanced over at the silent Llorente, frowned, then turned back to Hugh and Court. "So what's brought down the wrath of the MacCarricks?"

Hugh answered, because Court could not. "One of the Rechazados shoved a gun to Annalia's temple and was seconds from killing her right before Court's eyes. Does things."

Niall's face went cold in an instant. "Why did you no' say so? The crew will be furious." He slapped his hands and rubbed them together. "It'll be a slaughter…."

"Well, I've never been greeted quite that way."

Annalia's hand flew to her mouth. She ran for a towel by the basin to wipe the woman's skirts—the only thing she could think of in a situation like this—but heaved again once there.

Olivia chirped over her shoulder, "I told you there was a new Scottish woman."

Lady Fiona asked Olivia, "What is wrong with her?"

"Perhaps she's upset that Mr. MacCarrick has left her like this. She and Mr. MacCarrick, the Courtland one, traveled together—alone—for several weeks. Just the two of them. They became…very close."

What was she babbling about? Maybe Annalia had gotten sick because Courtland's mother just brought into relief something she'd been struggling with since they'd gone. Do you ken that you canna have him…. Why not? When he was all she wanted in the world? She gripped the side of the table, squeezing to get herself under control.

Lady Fiona's voice was halting when she asked, "Are you saying?…"

Annalia turned then and caught Olivia nodding slyly as the woman studied her.

"I'm going to change my skirts," Lady Fiona said, never taking her eyes from Annalia. "Olivia, dear?"

"Yes, Lady Fiona."

"Do not"—she raised her hand in a stopping gesture—"let her go anywhere."

As the strange woman bolted out of the doorway, Olivia called, "As you wish, milady." Her voice was so saccharine, Annalia nearly emptied her stomach once more.

When they were alone, Olivia said, "You need to clean up," then took her shoulder and ran a wet cloth over Annalia's startled face.

She did it hard enough that Annalia asked, "Have you never done this before?"

"Of course, everyone was so kind in Pascal's household, always caring for each other. What do you think?" She handed her a cup. "Rinse your mouth out."

Annalia quickly did.

The woman swept in directly after. "Now, Lady Annalia—"

Olivia interrupted to say, "Pardon me, but she likes to be called simply 'Anna,' since it sounds more Scottish that way. And of course that's what Mr. MacCarrick calls her."

Annalia swung a lowering glare on Olivia.

"Of course, Anna." Lady Fiona looked so pleased, so touched, that Annalia didn't correct her. "So you and my son became close?"

Absurdly, Annalia looked to Olivia to answer. When Olivia nodded, she said, "Yes, Lady Fiona."

"You care for him?"

"Yes." Her eyes began watering. She loved him. So much her heart pained her all the time. She put her nails into her palms to stop herself from crying.

But Lady Fiona's sharp-eyed gaze flickered over her hands. "And it was only you and my son, together for all those weeks on the road?"

Olivia answered for her in a conspiratorial tone, "It's been just her and your son since then as well. He's exceedingly proprietary about her. He hit her brother when he tried to take her from him."

Annalia rubbed her clammy forehead. "What are we really discussing here?" she asked much too tartly.

"Lady Fiona is trying to determine if Courtland MacCarrick was your only lover."

She gasped in shock. "Of course he was!" she blurted, too late realizing what she'd just admitted. She was humiliated, her face flaming in front of Lady Fiona. She turned on Olivia, telling her with her eyes, Rat. Weasel. All low animals… Wait, why was the woman trying to determine that? It wasn't her business. "With respect to you, I must say this is a private matter that I will not discuss."

"But it's no' wholly private." Lady Fiona approached Annalia to stroke the damp hair from her forehead in a maternal gesture. "For this family your baby means so much."

"Que?!"

After swift preparations, the entire band rode out, arriving near Ordino late in the night. Niall's men were to remain outside the city waiting in ready while Court, Hugh, and Llorente slipped in.

The three found a vantage where they could assess the Rechazados' camp—an old stone manor high on a mountain cliff. "If I can find a fracture," Hugh said, scrutinizing it, "I can take the top of the mountain out."

"How are you going to get up there?" Court asked, scanning the mountain from the bottom to its sheer top.

"Scale it. I'd planned to anyway, to make sure only Rechazados were inside."

"Are you going to be able to scale down quickly enough?"

Hugh faced him with a shadow of a grin. "I'm bettin' on yes."

Llorente finally spoke to them to ask, "Do you need one of us to go with you?"

"I work better alone," Hugh said. He always said that.

Hugh slapped Court on the shoulder and said to Llorente, "You have the privilege of protecting them now. Doona hesitate tonight or you'll fail. And if you get my brother killed…" He leaned in toward him. "Just doona get my brother killed."

After slinging his ropes over his shoulder, Hugh carefully stowed his volatile explosives. With a nod, he casually said, "When you hear the bang, then."

Court and Llorente set out after he left and advanced to a smaller town house, not nearly as grand as he'd seen Pascal in last. "If Olivia has led us astray," Court began, "I'll return to England and kill her myself."

Llorente scowled. "She wouldn't lead us astray. See? Why would there be guards otherwise?"

Three guards did front it. "You goin' to be able to take down one?" Court asked.

Llorente pulled out his pistol. "I can do what I need to."

Court shook his head. "No' a chance. It's got to be quiet and quick. Ever slit a man's throat before?"

"Not exactly."

Court's brows drew together with realization. "Kill anybody before? A single deserter?"

He grated, "No."

"Oh, bloody hell, Llorente," Court muttered. "You might've mentioned this earlier."

• Предыдущая
• 62/68
• Следующая