Seeking The Truth - A Medieval Romance (The Sword of Glastonbury Series Book 11)

by Shea,Lisa

  But more than that – Edward was one of the most handsome men she had ever met. His hair was the color of golden honey, the perfect short length to run a hand through. His build was awe inspiring, with well-toned muscles and broad shoulders. Despite her awareness of the seriousness of the situation, a thrill coursed through her as she looked him over. It could certainly be far worse than spending the evening in this man’s company.

  She wondered how much of his obvious success was due to the benefit of his handsome features. He probably found it easy to lure women into his employ, to encourage men to trust in him, to sign anything he put before them. The combination was potent.

  Edward mouth curved into a grin. “Why, Coll, you have really outdone yourself this time,” he greeted smoothly, pushing past the red-headed woman to move around to the front of the table. He took Morgan’s hand in his own, lowering his head to run his lips seductively over her skin. Morgan’s smile was genuine and large when he raised his head again.

  “You must be Morgan,” he added in a low, rumbling voice. “Your beauty exceeds even Coll’s enthusiastic description. Come, sit with me for a moment.”

  He gave a look to the red-head, and she pouted, then headed off toward the bar. She returned in a moment with a pair of full mead glasses, then turned and huffed off toward one of the tables. Morgan slid into a seat, taking up her glass with interest.

  Edward raised his glass in a toast, and Morgan did the same. “To luck,” he called out, and she echoed his words before drinking in the smooth liquid. Her shoulders relaxed as she drank it down. The flavor was amazing, and she leant back against the bench, letting it flow through her.

  “Now that is a high quality drink,” she sighed, running her tongue around in her mouth. “That alone was worth the ride here.”

  Edward’s eyes lit up. “You like it, then?” he asked with pleasure. “It is a special blend I bring down from Scotland.” His eyes ran down her form, then back up to her eyes. “You are shaped like a goddess, and you enjoy fine mead as well. A man could dream of a woman such as you.” A wolfish gleam came into his eyes as he gazed at her, taking down another draw. “I will make sure we keep you supplied with this lubricant as long as you stay within my walls.”

  “I will need some cash, if I am to stay and play,” pointed out Morgan with a smile.

  Edward patted her thigh reassuringly, and besides her Morgan felt Coll stiffen slightly. Satisfaction welled within her. It would be good to keep the men on their toes while she waited for her chance to follow Edward outside.

  Edward glanced down at her leg briefly, his grin growing, his fingers running along its length. “You are in quite good shape,” he murmured half to himself. His eyes moved back up to hers. “I imagine you like to ride.”

  “I adore it,” agreed Morgan, leaning forward slightly. “Maybe we could go out for a ride, just you and I.”

  “I would like that,” offered Edward in a low voice. His eyes moved out to scan the room in a long sweep. “Not right now, though,” he added, his voice becoming distant. “Business before pleasure, I am afraid.”

  He shuffled through the papers at his side before drawing forth one. Morgan could see her name on it as well as a great deal of writing in very small script.

  “Here you go,” commented Edward genially. “The standard agreement, you get five pounds from us, you pay it back to us with interest. Nothing to worry about.” He lifted a leather bag from the bench besides him and slowly began drawing out the coins, laying them out in a growing pile before Morgan. When he was done, he handed her a pen.

  “All those coins are yours to enjoy – just make your mark and have fun!”

  Morgan let her eyes brighten with interest and greed, and she leant over at once, scribbling her name in the indicated spot. The moment she had finished, Edward rolled up the scroll and tucked it with the pen into the corner of the bench.

  “That is that!” he called out with pleasure.

  Coll pulled her to her feet, gathering up her coins with a sweep of his hand. “You best let me hold these for you,” he commented in a low voice. “Some of our clientele can get a bit frisky. What game would you like to try your luck at first?”

  Morgan turned to let her gaze settle on Edward’s even as Coll pulled her down off the platform. “Until later, then,” she offered Edward in a low voice. She saw the interest kindle in his eyes, and gave a knowing smile in response.

  Coll had taken them to a beat-up wooden table surrounded by five dicers. The noise was loud around them, but Morgan was in her element. She knew her job now. She had to keep an eye on Edward, had to lose all of her money, stay visible, and keep out of trouble.

  The gamblers looked up with interest as she approached, easily making room for her, then frowned with sullen acceptance as Coll moved to sit alongside her and wrapped his arm around her waist. Morgan scanned the room, saw Oliver settle into a corner table with a card game going on. He set himself with his back to the wall, nodding at her quietly before sweeping the room, looking from Edward to the front door.

  The dice came around to her, and Morgan’s eyes lit up. If there had to be a way to bring a killer to justice, this certainly was not bad at all. She rubbed the dice between her hands, then threw. A cheer went up, and someone pressed a glass of mead into her hand. She took in a deep pull, and closed her eyes in satisfaction. It really was the best she had ever tasted. She turned and looked up at Edward, who was watching her with steady focus. She raised her glass in toast to him, sure he was supplying her with his own private stock. He nodded, a smile on his face, saluting her in return.

  There was a tug on her arm, and she returned her attention to the table. In a moment she was deep into the game, laughing with Coll as she won a coin, pouting prettily when it was lost again.

  The night drifted by slowly along with the lightening of her purse. Coll kept a steady stream of mead flowing into her as they moved from table to table, and maintained a constant presence at her side. Morgan let her eyes occasionally stray to Edward, and more often than not she found his gaze was on her, a wolfish grin on his face, his eyes watching her appreciatively.

  Finally Edward stood, nodding to his right-hand man, pushing his way past the red-head and making his way toward an inconspicuous door on the back wall. Morgan’s heart tripped to a quicker rhythm. This was her opportunity to go outside with him, to find a way to draw him to the edge of the woods. She only prayed that Sean and the others had tracked them well.

  “I believe I have had too much to drink – I need to head outside for a moment,” she commented with a laugh to Coll, turning to face him.

  He chuckled, running a hand along her cheek with a lustful gaze. “Oh, I do not think you have had enough yet,” he corrected her. “As far as … refreshing your capacity, you hardly need to go outside! We have one toilet behind the bar, for the common folk here, but I imagine Edward would rather you use …” he glanced up, then motioned with his head. “There, see where he is going? When he comes out, use that door. It will provide what you need.”

  Morgan’s heart fell. It was not going to be so easy after all. She would have to come up with another solution to get Edward out into the open.

  She waited until Edward emerged from the door, then moved over to go in herself. The room was small, perhaps three feet on a side, with a bench and a covered hole across one end. To her surprise, instead of the usual stack of soft, absorbent mullein leaves, there were actual squares of cotton rags laying on the end of the bench. Even at the keep they did not indulge in such luxuries! She chuckled quietly, wondering just how much money Edward was earning each evening with his business.

  She finished up quickly, then emerged back into the noisy main room. Her eyes met Oliver’s, and she saw his shoulders relax in relief. She left the door open for a moment, so that he could see what lay beyond, and his face furrowed with worry. She nodded, her thoughts whirling as she made her way back over to the dice table and Coll’s side. If Edward had no real reason to
venture outside of these four walls all evening long, it would make taking him quite a challenge. The room was full of burly men and while she guessed that most would scatter at the first sign of trouble, there would be enough of Edward’s dealers and regulars left behind to make any fighting a long, arduous process.

  She returned her focus on the task at hand. There was still a chance that an opportunity would arise, and she needed to ensure she was ready for it. She had to stay as long as she could. She smiled at Coll, then leant forward to toss the dice.

  “Hey there, Missy,” came a rough voice at her ear. “Why not ditch that pipsqueak and find out what a real man is like.”

  Morgan turned with a smile, looking up. The speaker was over six feet tall and extremely burly. His shaggy black hair reached to his shoulder and he sported a bushy beard to match. His nose glowed red as he leered down at her.

  Coll wrapped his arm tightly around her waist. “The lady is with me,” he snarled. “You would do well to back off.”

  “We shall see about that,” growled the man, dropping his hand to the dagger at his side.

  “Joel!” came a cool call from the far end of the room. It had not been a yell, yet somehow the room silenced immediately, all eyes turning to see what was going on. Edward was standing behind his table, staring at the man with fixed attention.

  “Yes, Edward,” responded Joel, his voice low, truculent.

  “The woman is mine,” called out Edward in a smooth voice, a hint of ice sliding along its edges. “You are not to touch her.”

  A shaft of steel snapped into Morgan’s spine, her natural rebellion flaring at being claimed in such a manner. With fierce effort she forced herself to smile, to look flattered at this attention.

  Joel dropped his eyes. “Yes, of course, Edward. I am sorry, I did not know,” he mumbled, sliding away from Morgan without another look. The room quickly regained its former volume and Edward settled back into his seat, his eyes regaining their smooth sweep of his domain.

  Coll looked down darkly, muttering, then turned to throw the dice hard down onto the table. “I think it may be time to go,” he ground out, his eyes flickering again to the platform where Edward sat.

  Morgan pouted prettily, pressing herself up against Coll’s arm. “I want to win back my money,” she insisted petulantly, fluttering her eyelashes. “Besides, the night is still young! Just a little while longer?”

  Coll looked down at her eager face, his own infusing with greed and lust. “Yes, of course, you still have money left to play,” he agreed, pulling her hard against him. He called out for another pair of meads, and soon they were clinking glasses together, turning to cheer on the dice players. The dice were passed to her, passed from her, and her coins were played out, losing more than they won. She wondered idly just how much money she had left, what remained in the leather pouch at Coll’s side.

  Another glass of mead was pressed into her hand and she realized suddenly that she had lost track of how many she had drunk, lost track of time completely. She looked up to find a window, and realized with surprise that there were no windows at all in the large room. There were only dark oak walls with torches and candles on them, the large stone fireplace with embers glowing, and then four doors, one on each wall. She shook her head, chuckling. She imagined the gambling house did not want any reminder of time or other duties to intrude on the minds of those losing their money within.

  She looked over at Oliver, and he met her eyes with a somber look. He glanced at the door, then back at her again. She nodded. Dawn could not be far off, and they needed to depart before their absence drove the rest to thunder in. She turned to lean against Coll, to look up at him.

  “I am getting rather sleepy,” she murmured, yawning for effect. “I think we should be heading home now.”

  Coll gave a quick heft to the bag at his waist, then nodded, smiling. “Yes, I think it is definitely time for us to leave. Let me just let Edward know.” He walked toward the platform, and Morgan trailed dutifully behind him.

  “Morgan and I will be leaving now,” he announced brusquely as he reached the table. He shook the leather bag meaningfully, allowing the few remaining coins to jingle. “I am afraid she has lost more than she has won, but I am sure we can work out a payment plan to our satisfaction.”

  “Yes, of course,” agreed Edward, his eyes moving greedily over her form. “It would be my pleasure.” He swept his eyes over the rest of the room, then smiled and nodded to himself.

  “Morgan, you like riding, as I recall,” he announced, standing. “Things appear to be quieting down here. I believe I will offer you that ride you wanted.”

  Coll’s face flushed with anger. “I brought her in,” he snapped in a fierce, low tone. “She is mine.”

  Edward’s eyes moved to his slowly, holding a cold challenge.

  Coll took a step back, his face going pale. “Of course, if you have an interest,” he muttered in a truculent tone. His voice faded into silence, and he looked away, his face tense with frustration.

  Morgan’s heart lifted. Her patience had paid off! This was going to be far easier than she could have possibly hoped. If she and Edward were riding alone, together, it would be simple for the crew to take him down. She turned for Oliver, waving him over.

  Oliver blinked his eyes. “Time to go?” he drawled lethargically. “Is it that late?”

  Edward nodded congenially. “Late enough,” he agreed. “You two men go ahead and get your horses ready. I just have to grab something and will be along in a moment.” His eyes moved to meet Morgan’s. “I thought I might send you home with a container of that mead,” he explained with a grin.

  Morgan’s eyes gleamed in delight. “I would be forever in your debt,” she enthused, licking her lips at the memory of the delicious flavor.

  Edward chuckled in a low voice. “Yes, you will be,” he agreed quietly. “Come, let us grab it and enjoy our ride.”

  Coll and Oliver headed out toward the front door, Oliver sending one last glance in Morgan’s direction before moving under Coll’s prodding hand. Morgan smiled up at Edward, walking easily alongside him toward the door in the right hand wall, the one she had not yet seen opened.

  Edward withdrew a small key from his belt and turned it in the lock, then pushed the heavy, oaken door inwards. Morgan stepped through and then stopped with pleasure, looking around her.

  The room was a well apportioned living quarters done in green and gold. A series of ivory beeswax candles lined the walls, set in golden scones. A large bed took up the back wall, elegant bedspreads and pillows continuing the ivory color theme. A pair of wall hangings, displaying a green man and a slender fairy, hung behind the bed. An intricately carved oak dresser stood to one side, and a sturdy stone fireplace to the other held low embers.

  Edward stepped through behind her, pulling the door shut with a solid thunk. Immediately the noise and maelstrom of the gambling den vanished, replaced with a leaden quiet. Edward moved past her to the sideboard, pouring out a thick liquid from a decanter into two glasses. He handed one to her, then held his out in a toast. “One final nightcap, before our ride,” he offered with a smile. “To celebrate.”

  Morgan returned the smile, her heart soaring. It had all gone so smoothly. Soon the night would be over, and this would all be behind her. She clinked her glass against Edward’s, downing the thick liquid in one long pull.

  It had an intriguing flavor to it, a mixture of herbs and spices she could not identify. She looked at the glass for a long moment in curiosity, then shrugged and put it back down on the counter. Edward put his own glass down besides hers, and she noticed in confusion he had not drunk his. Why would he toast and then not drink?

  He took a step forward, sweeping his eyes down her body in a long, hungry look, then snaked his arms around at her hips, drawing her in to him. She looked up, her mind muddled. God’s teeth, but he was handsome. That golden hair … she ran a hand absently up into it, drawing her fingers through it. He shuddered u
nder her touch, then pulled her in hard for a kiss.

  The kiss was fierce, controlling, as if he strove to overpower her, to drive her will into submission. In her mind she wedged her arms against his chest to push him away, but in reality a strange lassitude filled her limbs and they would not move. Her thoughts slogged through a deep mire. She did not want to be kissing him. She wanted … what was it that she wanted?

  He released her from the kiss for a moment, his eyes raking over her in triumph. She shook her head, struggling to draw her thoughts into line. “I thought we were going riding?” she asked in confusion, glancing around at the door.

  Edward’s eyes were hot with desire, his hands sliding higher up her body. “Oh, I will be riding, all right,” he agreed in a growl, staring down at her bosom with pleasure. “I will take you places Coll could never show you.”

  His right hand rode up, and suddenly he had possessively taken a hold of her breast, turning her, pushing her back against the bed, pressing down on top of her with greedy desire.

  Adrenaline surged through Morgan’s body, and the dense haze cleared from her mind like a fog evaporating beneath the glare of the sun. “Get your hands off of me!” she screamed, her hand reaching for the dagger at her belt. Her hand felt slowed, as if she were pushing her way through water. He felt her move, intercepted her arm before she reached her target, drawing the dagger himself and throwing it hard across the room. It embedded itself deep in his wall.

  “You wildcat,” he growled with pleasure, pressing down hard on top of her, ravishing her mouth with his own. She threw her knee up with as much force as she could muster, and he twisted easily, catching the blow on his thigh. He laughed with delight, slamming her back down onto the bed. “Like to play rough, do you?” he called out in challenge. He pressed his full body weight down on her, pinning her in place.

  Morgan’s eyes blazed with fury. She rolled to the left, opening up some room, then spun back with the full weight of her body, throwing a punch from her shoulder, catching him hard in the chin. It rocked his head back, and he shook his head, his eyes refocusing with hot anger. A second later, he slammed his fist down against her, catching her in the temple. Her head exploded into stars, shards of pain lancing in from all sides. She screamed in agony, her back bucking with the pain.