The Lady and the Earl

by Clark, Diedre

  “Get up, slime,” a burly, tall mercenary said angrily.

  Connor looked up at the man and smiled to see the blood pouring from the large man’s nose.

  “What are you grinning at?” In anger, he kicked Connor in the gut again. “Pick him up,” he ordered two other men.

  Before Connor could regain his breath, two sets of arms pulled him to his feet.

  “Do you think this is funny? Look at Ramon,” the man ordered, grabbing hold of Connor’s chin and yanking his head toward a body lying on the floor.

  The body looked mangled and beaten. The fall, along with the added weight of other men, had broken the man’s neck and twisted him into a position that did not look possible.

  “Do you think he’s laughing?”

  “Well, no. But it looks like he might be smiling,” Connor answered smartly. The large man smashed his fist into Connor’s jaw, making his head jerk to the side. He might have even fallen if it wasn’t for the two other men holding him up.

  “He was my brother!” the man roared as he landed another punch in Connor’s ribs.

  The other men snickered as he grunted heavily from the blow.

  “Is that all you have?” Connor taunted raggedly only to be rewarded with another punch to the face. The blow knocked Connor senses around a bit, but that didn’t stop his taunts. “Why don’t you cut me loose and see how tough you really are?”

  The man stared at him coldly, contemplating his words. “Cut him loose,” he ordered.

  “But Leon—”

  “Do it!” the man named Leon roared.

  The two men holding Connor cut his bands and released him. Other mercenaries were now entering the large hall to see what all the commotion was.

  “I thought there were only fifty of you,” Connor said, rubbing his sore jaw and eyeing his opponent carefully. There had to be at least twenty men in the hall now with more still coming in, not to mention the twenty or so guards outside.

  “You were poorly informed. There are far more than fifty of us,” Leon snarled.

  “I see. Thank you for correcting me,” Connor replied with a smirk. He hadn’t really expected an answer. He was just stalling in order to gain some of his strength back.

  The two men began circling each other. Leon had blood in his eyes. He was hunched over with his hands out in front of him, looking like a bear ready to maul his prey. Connor stood upright with confidence, staying on the balls of his feet as he stepped lightly to the side. Connor loved a good fight, and he was good. Many opponents had underestimated him in the past. He was tall and lanky, making him look like an easy target. But he was smart in his actions, and he was fast and agile. Usually his speed and quickness made up for his lack in bulk. It should today as well. He just hoped his aching body would cooperate long enough to let him get the advantage.

  The surrounding mercenaries were chanting and hooting for Leon to crush Connor. As though inspired by his comrades, Leon leapt toward his prey. Connor danced to the side and kicked the man hard in the back as he dove past, causing him to tumble to the floor. Leon leapt to his feet quickly, glaring hard at Connor. The crowd booed and jeered at Connor, but he simply smiled pleasantly, waiting for another attack and receiving it. Leon dove once more at Connor and received a right hook to the jaw. He fell to the ground, and Connor kicked him hard in the gut.

  “Ooh!” the crowd responded in unison.

  “Had enough?” Connor asked.

  His calm, pleasant attitude was maddening, and he knew it. It usually aggravated his opponents quite nicely.

  Unexpectedly, the other man yelled ferociously and dove at Connor, taking him to the ground. They wrestled fiercely. Leon jabbed Connor with punches to the ribs and back while Connor tried to throw his own. The group of men surrounding them was going mad. It was so loud in the room they didn’t hear the commotion outside or the call of their leader, Rupert. He was yelling for them to stop, but no one heeded his word. The fighting continued, and the crowd seemed to just get louder.

  Connor could feel his body weakening. He was fast, but Leon was twice as wide and almost as tall as him. He had to do something fast or—

  The front door burst open and a flurry of men charged into the room with swords drawn and pistols aimed to shoot. Shots rang out as pistols were discharged, causing several of the mercenaries to go down. All havoc broke out as fighting followed the unexpected intrusion. Leon didn’t let up, however. He continued to grind Connor’s face into the floor while holding his arms behind his back in a locked position. He was digging in his boot for a knife, something Connor knew he didn’t want the beast to get. He squirmed beneath the weight of the other man, using the last of his energy to buck his body as ferociously as he could. The sudden movement knocked Leon off balance, giving Connor the opportunity to free his arms and heave the giant man off of him. Connor then leapt to his feet and snatched up a sword from a fallen mercenary. As he turned to face Leon, the large man’s thrown knife embedded itself just below Connor’s left collarbone, only inches above his heart. Connor grabbed at the wound in pain and fell to his knees. He yanked the dagger out quickly, cringing from the pain. He swore viciously. He hadn’t anticipated that.

  Leon was now above him, wickedly grinning down at him with a sword drawn. “This is for Ramon,” he hissed at Connor as he raised his sword above his head.

  Connor brought his own sword up and plunged it into Leon’s stomach. The man looked down at him in shock, dropping his weapon and grasping the blade in his belly. He’d thought Connor was done for. In his rage, Connor twisted the embedded sword before yanking it out, dropping Leon to the floor in a heap of blood.

  * * *

  Once Declan was on the second floor, he heard fighting. Had it been going on for a while? He’d been so preoccupied trying to get to Allana; he hadn’t noticed the loud noises until now. Staring down the grand staircase that lead to the first floor, Declan saw chaos among the mercenaries. They were fighting each other, and Connor was in the middle of it, wrestling with a man twice his size. Declan charged down the stairs to assist his friend, fighting like mad to get to Connor before it was too late. Some of the mercenaries fought him while others seemed to assist him. He was thoroughly confused by their actions until he realized not all of them were Lucas’s hired thugs. One man in particular gave Declan this impression. He was tall, with reddish-brown hair and a matching beard both streaked with gray, and he was shouting orders to the new group of men. He made eye contact with Declan, smiling slightly as he parried and stabbed his opponent in the back. This man had to be the leader of the new band of men, and he’d brought his men here to…to what…help? The man fought his way over to Declan, cutting down the man Declan was dueling with from behind.

  “Quick,” he said to Declan. “Lord Hoffman was spotted with your woman through there,” he continued, pointing down a hallway to Declan’s left. “My nephew went after them, but I’m sure he could use your help.”

  Declan stared at him, wanting to ask questions, but knowing there wasn’t time. He glanced in Connor’s direction to see him thrust his sword into the larger man’s gut.

  “Don’t worry about your friend. I will take care of him. Now go,” the man said, urging Declan on his way.

  Declan hesitated before nodding and dashing toward the hallway where Lucas had last been seen. It was the same hallway which led to the kitchen and down to the cellar. Lucas was trying to escape through the underground tunnel, and if Declan wasn’t fast enough, he could lose Allana forever.

  Chapter 39

  Garret Meredith dashed down a different corridor than the one Lucas had taken the woman down. He wanted to cut them off, and with the way she was fighting, Garret was sure he could beat Lucas to the kitchen if he went through the dining room. He was right. He burst into the kitchen to find only the cook and a few other servants there. Quickly, he ushered the women out the back door and waited for Lucas. He didn’t have to wait long before Lucas came crashing through the side door carrying the wom
an on his shoulder. He must have hit her hard this time to make her stop moving. Anger seared Garret’s soul as he thought of this man’s brutality toward women. He had no respect for them; beating this one unconscious and defiling others like Garret’s sister, Josephine. Justice needed to be served.

  * * *

  Lucas stopped short when he spotted the sleek, muscular man standing across the room with his sword drawn.

  “Put the woman down,” the man ordered. He watched Lucas coldly, slowly approaching him like a cat trying to corner his prey. “I have a score to settle with you.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Lucas said dryly. He stepped sideways, not putting Allana down. He didn’t have time to deal with this fool. Declan would be coming any time now, and Lucas did not want to have to kill him since he was his only leverage over Allana.

  The other man stepped with Lucas, keeping his sword poised for action. “I will cut you to shreds if you don’t put her down and defend yourself. And I will do it without hurting the woman.” He sliced his sword across Lucas’s left arm to prove his point.

  Lucas eyed the man dangerously. It looked like he was going to have to fight after all. “Fine,” he said irritably, laying his prize down in a corner. “I have never lost, so prepare to die whoever you are.”

  “We’ve met before, Hoffman. My name is Garret Meredith. You defiled my sister, and left her with child,” the man said icily, lunging at Lucas.

  They both fought with anger and skill, neither gaining any ground on the other. Lucas eyed the man. He did look familiar, but he couldn’t remember when he had met him.

  “Your sister, eh?” Lucas asked as he parried another blow. “I’ve never met a woman who didn’t want what I could offer,” he finished wickedly, receiving several fierce attacks in return.

  “Don’t talk about Josephine that way. She was innocent until you,” the man, Garret, panted. “She was the most beautiful…kind person…You destroyed her life, stripped her of happiness and love!” He was angry and that made him vulnerable. He continued to cut at Lucas viciously, though.

  “Like I said before, I’ve never known a woman…who didn’t want…what I gave her,” Lucas said as he sliced Garret’s arm.

  Garret roared as he lunged at Lucas, successfully cutting Lucas’s back.

  Lucas glowered darkly at the other man. He’d been careless, and now he was bleeding. It was time to end this game. He parried an attack and stabbed his sword into Garret’s right shoulder. He parried again and stabbed Garret’s other shoulder. The other man was breathing heavily, his wounds slowing him down. He lunged at Lucas. Lucas dodged the move and sliced the man across the back. Garret staggered forward a pace or two before slowly turning to face Lucas again. He braced himself against a table and stared at the other man.

  “Why?” he asked. “Why did you do it?”

  “Women love me. What can I say?” Lucas answered casually.

  “No, not Josephine,” Garret said. He groaned in pain. He was bleeding badly.

  “Josephine?” Lucas asked. What were the odds that this could be the same woman who Connor had fallen for? Sophia Murrieta had been her name, yet hadn’t her true name been Josephine? Lucas eyed Garret again. Yes, he remembered him now. He was older and slightly taller than he had been five years ago, and his hair was longer, pulled back in a tie at the base of his neck. But this man was Sophia’s brother. Lucas had run into him once after one of Connor’s fights, a fight Connor had foolishly brought Sophia to.

  “I remember her now,” Lucas said quietly. “She was a young, beautiful thing with black hair and big brown eyes that could melt most men’s hearts.”

  Garret simply looked at Lucas with sadness in his eyes. He staggered forward, but had to stop for breath.

  “I hate to break this to you, boy. But you have the wrong man,” Lucas admitted. “You should be dueling Connor Tananguard, not me.”

  “No…Connor was honorable. He loved her,” Garret panted. He lunged at Lucas weakly.

  Lucas knocked the sword free of the other man’s hands and shoved him to the ground. “Connor was just like me. He was using her. He never loved her.”

  “No, he did. He wed her,” Garret said, rolling onto his back. He tried to sit up, cringing and only making it to his elbows.

  Lucas looked at Garret in shock. “Impossible.”

  Garret’s eyebrows went up. “You never knew? I thought you were his closest friend.” He laughed feebly. He had made it to his knees.

  “I am his closest friend,” Lucas spat.

  “Then why did he not tell you? Why didn’t he ask you to witness the marriage? Instead he asked me and one of my men.” Garret shook his head. “You took him from her by bedding her. They would still be together if not for you.”

  “No,” Lucas shook his head in denial. “You lie.”

  “You’re pathetic.” Garret spit at Lucas’s feet.

  Lucas lunged at the man, but instead of stabbing his sword into his gut as he should have done, he punched him as hard as he could, sending the wounded man sprawling to the side.

  Lucas walked slowly over to Garret. “I could kill you now, you know. Instead, I shall let you die slowly and painfully, bleeding onto my kitchen floor until there is nothing left.”

  “You will pay,” Garret whispered weakly. “I know you will.”

  “Maybe. But not today, my friend, not today,” Lucas said, smiling coldly. He spit to the side in hate then walked over to Allana. He sheathed his sword and picked her up before heading to the cellar and to freedom.

  * * *

  Declan sprinted through the hall and into the kitchen. The place was a wreck with pots and pans thrown everywhere and dishes shattered on the floor. Declan walked purposefully toward the storage room door, hoping to catch Lucas before he made it to the woods. A hand reached up and grabbed Declan’s leg. A man lay wounded on the floor, and Declan had almost walked right by him.

  “Please,” the man said. “Please, kill him. He doesn’t deserve to live,” he moaned.

  “Hold on, friend,” Declan said, bending down to assist him. “Help is on the way.”

  “No, don’t,” the man said, stopping Declan from wrapping his wound. “Just help me stand. I can take care of myself from there.”

  Declan grasped the man’s hand and pulled him to his feet.

  The man leaned heavily against a table. “Thank you. Now you must go. Lucas has been gone only a few moments.”

  Declan nodded. “I will get him,” he said.

  “I know,” the man replied. He tried to take a step forward and groaned in pain. “Damned bastard!”

  “Hold on, friend. If you die, I will never forgive myself,” Declan growled, helping the man steady himself.

  The man laughed feebly. “I’ll not die today if I can help it. Leave me. Save your woman. Bring justice to us all.”

  Declan nodded. He would do just that. He shook the other man’s hand in farewell then turned abruptly and darted to the cellar door. Lucas was going to pay.

  Chapter 40

  Connor sat next to his dead opponent for several moments trying to gather enough energy to stand. His shoulder throbbed from the knife wound, and he could feel blood soaking his shirt. The fighting around him was dying down as the intruding band of men rounded up the remainder of Rupert’s men. Connor groaned as he tried to stand, falling back down to his knees, breathing hard. His body had been through a beating, and he was feeling the consequences. If he could just take a moment to catch his breath—the tip of a sword jabbed him in the back.

  Not another one, Connor thought. He was exhausted and growing weaker with each passing moment. He was losing too much blood.

  “Stand slowly, please,” a male voice said.

  Taking a deep breath, Connor obeyed and struggled to his feet, turning to look at his new opponent.

  “Lower your sword, Erik. That’s Tananguard’s son,” another man interrupted, causing the man named Erik to lower his sword.

  Connor looked at the
newcomer in surprise. “How do you know who I am?”

  “I’ve known your father for some time and had the privilege of rescuing his wife earlier today. She told me everything. Don’t worry. She and Maggie are safe. Right now we need to get to your father, and then I will explain whatever else you wish to know,” the man said, frowning as he eyed Connor strangely. “Do you have any idea where Hoffman might be storing him?”

  “I saw them haul him off in that direction,” Connor said, pointing to the south hallway. Why is he looking at me like that? he wondered irritably. The look on the man’s face was maddening. It seemed he was analyzing the younger man, trying to decide where he had seen him before.

  “You have curly hair,” the man said quietly, his eyes darkening.

  “Yes. And…?” Why did his hair matter at a time like this?

  “Lucas does not. Interesting…hmm.”

  “Is there a purpose to this observation?” Connor asked dryly.

  The other man shook his head. “I suppose not. Can you walk?”

  “I think so, but may I have the privilege of your name first?” Connor asked.

  “My apologies. I am William Meredith. I am the leader of this rabble you see rounding up the rest of Rupert’s men,” the man said as he stretched his hand toward Connor.

  Meredith? Could it be possible? Sophia told him once her real name was Josephine Meredith. Could there be a chance the two might be related? No, there was no connection with this man and the only woman Connor had ever loved. “A pleasure,” Connor answered raggedly, taking Meredith’s hand and shaking it.

  “Come, we have to find your father.”

  Connor tried to take a step forward, but staggered in the process.

  “Whoa,” William said, grabbing Connor’s shoulders to steady him. Connor winced. “Here, let me take a look at that wound.”