“He had two blades,” Keenan said

by Editor

  Keenan crouched before Serena’s brother and glanced at the woman. “Ye called him William?”

  She nodded.

  “Yer brother?”

  She sniffed loudly and nodded again.

  Keenan carefully checked William’s pockets. A few coins, tinkled together but nothing more. Keenan looked around and spotted Gerard’s coin purse next to William along with a bloodied knife. But the papers were nowhere. What would a gypsy want with the letter anyway?

  The gun lying near the body must have shot William, but where had Gerard found the gun? It wasn’t his. When Gerard had started drinking heavily, Keenan took his firearm from him so he wouldn’t shoot anyone or himself. Keenan probably should have let the idiot keep his weapon, another failure on his part.

  A pounding crept up the back of his head as Keenan looked between the two men. What an ass he’d been to let his guard down. Without Gerard and his letter, his brother’s cause would require months to rebuild. He shook his head in disgust at himself.

  “William didn’t take his money and didn’t kill him,” Serena said firmly as she wiped another scarf along her nose.

  Keenan threw the purse of coins at her feet as he stood. The loud thump caused a stir amongst the Rom gathered.

  Serena spoke to the people around her. “William didn’t take the coins. It was the others,” she insisted as she waved her hands toward the other end of the bridge and looked back at Keenan. Frantic appeal bled from her eyes. “The man threw your friend’s coin purse on William after he shot him. Because William saw him, and his woman paying off Gerard’s murderer, some local ruffian.” The words flew desperately out of her. Several Rom backed away, disappearing into the shadows.

  “What man and woman? What murderer?” Keenan grabbed her arms.

  “Out of the way, you filthy Rom,” a rotund man huffed across the bridge with two men behind him. They held guns and were sloppily dressed as local authority. The remaining people backed up to allow them into the scene.

  The marshal glanced at the bodies. “What crime goes on here?”

  “Gerard Grant has been stabbed, killed,” Keenan said.

  “And my brother has been shot. He is bleeding.” Serena pulled away from Keenan to squat back down at William’s head. She smoothed his black hair from his face.

  The marshal pointed to the weapons each man had. “Looks like the Rom picked his purse and they fought a bit. The gentleman was gutted but got off a shot before he died. Thieving Rom.” The marshal spat on the ground near William’s foot.

  “That’s not what happened,” Serena shouted.

  “And how would you know that, little miss? Or were you in on it?” The marshal leered at her. “I saw you dance with the Rom people. You might not look like them, but you travel with them.”

  Keenan saw her wide eyes, her trembling hands. She didn’t look like someone who would aid her brother in thievery. But times were hard for the poor. Maybe they only meant to take the money, and the boy ended up defending himself. But again, Gerard had nothing to defend himself with. The details didn’t make sense. He needed to question Serena about what she saw. But how could she have seen others if she wasn’t involved? He had left her back at the wagon moments before coming upon Gerard.

  The marshal motioned to the two soldiers with him. “Bring the Rom and his woman.”

  “No.” Serena bent down to cradle William’s head.

  “She’s not involved,” Keenan Maclean said above her. Whether she was or not, he didn’t want her dragged off by these men.

  “And what would you be knowing about this, Scot?” the marshal said with transparent contempt.

  Keenan stood to his full height and stared the shoddy man in his black eyes. “I do ken that Gerard Grant is a close friend of the king and was my associate.”

  The marshal grunted and turned to his two henchmen. “We’ll take the Rom boy to Newgate with the other prisoners next week. For now lock him up at Leeds Gaol. Leave the woman.”

  “But he’s still bleeding,” Serena protested as the two filthy men walked toward her.

  “He’ll probably hang or die of gaol fever anyway,” the marshal retorted. “Best let him die tonight.”

  Keenan watched a shudder run through the lass. She was about to say more, when an older Rom man walked across the bridge toward them with a majesty that commanded the others to part. He placed his hand on Serena’s shoulder and whispered something to her. She shook her head but he nodded stiffly. Anguish dampened her face. It was as if her spirit crumpled before him. She turned while the elderly man spoke with authority in Romany to the remaining people.

  Two men from the Rom group moved past the guards and picked William up gently. They rested him across the marshal’s horse. Keenan watched Serena flinch with each movement of her brother, even though her back remained turned against the scene. It was as if she felt his pain.

  Keenan had heard of “The Traveling People” and had even seen some at Kylkern. Their ways were so different from the ways of the Scottish people that their differences seemed like magic. The woman before him hardly seemed to control powerful magic. Nor did she look like the sensual creature who had lured him to the fire. Now, she seemed more like a desolate child.

  “What should we do with the other one?” the marshal asked him. “If he’s a friend of the court, we should send him there.”

  “I’ll take care of the body,” Keenan answered briskly and looked over at the sprawled figure of Gerard. He wanted to see if there were any clues on the body. Gerard had no loyal family, and he was too dangerous to have many friends. Keenan had found him tolerable as long as he didn’t have to spend too much time with him. King George, on the other hand, found him witty and clever. They had become friends, elevating Gerard to worth. And now he was dead and the letter signed by George describing how he planned to take over Scotland was missing. Lachlan would scream to the rafters in fury.

  Keenan wrapped Gerard’s body in a fringed blanket he bought hastily from one of the Rom onlookers. His and Gerard’s horses were tethered closer to the faire. He watched Serena walk slowly after the marshal’s horse. “She’s bloody daft,” he cursed. She could be attacked and raped, or worse.

  From the trees came the older woman, Serena’s mother. She looked directly at him as she led his and Gerard’s horses from the shadows.

  “She will need you.” The old woman’s eyes glistened. “We can do naught for my boy tonight. But you...Please...” she let the word hang there for a moment and handed the reins to him. She turned away without waiting to see whether he would obey her command.

  Keenan watched her limp slowly away as if hopelessness tugged at her feet. The elderly man who had spoken with authority wrapped his arm around her, and they walked back under the trees. The others melted quickly into the forest. Keenan noticed Gerard’s bag of coins where he had thrown it at Serena’s feet, untouched. Not one of them had touched it.

  Keenan rummaged through Gerard’s pockets once more, turning him over this way and that. Nothing.

  A fierce chirping caught his attention. Now what? The little blue sparrow hopped on the ground before him. It took several hops in the direction Serena had walked and then cocked its head back. Then it fluttered up and around him.

  “Odd wee thing.” He dodged the winged beast. “Are ye ordering me after her?” He had questions to ask and he wanted to feel her touch him again. He wanted to smell the freshness in her hair. Keenan grunted at the absurdity of his thoughts. “A dead patriot, a missing letter, a ruined mission, and I’m thinking about a lass.” The sparrow chirped loudly as it circled his head. “And I’m taking orders from a bird,” he said as he hefted Gerard’s body over his shoulder and glanced around. Keenan looked down at Gerard. “Ye’ll keep,” he said and laid Gerard down into a hidden gully beside the bridge. “Ye won’t get any worse than ye are now.”

  Keenan mounted his chestnut charger and wheeled around. “I’ll be back for ye.” He left Gerard’s horse tied nearby. He wo
uld return to take the body to one of Gerard’s associates to send on to his family.

  With a slight pressure of his heel, his horse shot off into the darkness. It didn’t take long to spot Serena as she jogged along the dark road. As his horse thundered, she stepped off into the shadows. “At least ye ken enough to hide,” he mumbled and slowed to a walk.

  “I’ll take ye to Leeds,” he spoke into the darkness.

  He heard pebbles sliding under her feet as she climbed up the small bank out of the shadows. Her glassy, tear-washed eyes turned up to his. Her hair twisted wild around her shoulders, nearly to her hips. She said nothing, just looked up at him.

  “I said I would help ye.” He put his hand down.

  She hesitated before placing a small hand in his. He hoisted her up and pressed his heels into the side of the horse.

  They rode along the moon-soaked road. She smelled of sweet spices, cinnamon and autumn apples. Keenan wet his suddenly dry lips. She would taste as delicious as she smelled. Her warmth penetrated into his chest, coiling down into his body. So soft, so lush, her body moved against him with the rhythm of the horse. He grumbled low and shifted in his saddle. When would they reach the blasted jailhouse?

  Like most small town jailhouses, Leeds Gaol looked to be only one level. Its crumbling façade of brick squatted heavily on the small plot of grass, its rear pushed up against the woods. The muted glow of torchlight radiated from within the front entrance. All other windows were dark, but Serena could feel the pain and hopelessness bleeding from the structure, emanating from the occupants.

  Serena flinched as the men dropped William off the horse, feeling the pain his unconscious body registered. She could detect the emptiness of his mind, only the pain remained. Serena breathed deeply and erected the wall. She must keep her reason in order to help him. The heat emanating from the warrior behind her distracted her enough. Focus.

  Serena tried to jump down but slipped haltingly down the side of the horse. Like master, like horse, huge. She ran over to William and brushed back his hair. He was pale, so pale.

  “So you decided to join the boy,” said the marshal thickly and pulled her up by her bare arm. I could chain her inside one of the cells, up against the wall, her plump arse bare…

  Serena gagged as the man’s thoughts slid along her mind. In practiced defense she erected her most impenetrable barriers to muffle the repulsive images. It left her flushed, breathless.

  “It would be wise for ye to take yer hands off the lass,” the warrior said behind her.

  Even without her senses, Serena heard the thinly veiled threat behind the words.

  The marshal snorted and dropped her arm. “No use, girl, your brother is staying the night.” The marshal motioned to the men who dragged William along the stone hallway and out of her sight. Keys jingled as the marshal pulled his dirty hand from his pocket. He took a step closer to Serena.

  She could smell the foulness of his breath mixed with the odor of old sweat. His voice lowered.

  “Now if you want your brother to have a comfortable stay, say with water and food, we may be able to strike a bargain, lovey.” He grinned, showing dark teeth.

  Serena fought the revulsion that threatened at the base of her throat. She didn’t move away.

  Keenan Maclean came up behind them.

  “Stay back there, Scot, me and the lady is having a private discussion.” The marshal reached out to grab her arm again.

  Taking a quick breath, Serena stumbled forward into the rank man.

  The strong hands of the Highlander pulled her back quickly, just like she’d hoped. But it had been enough time to find the jingle in the marshal’s pocket.

  “There will be no private discussions with the lady.” The Highlander’s voice cut through the air with sharp authority.

  The marshal shrugged his shoulders. “Too bad for the boy.”

  The other two men came back out.

  She needed a distraction, but what would keep the men outside the small jailhouse? Serena tried to breathe evenly to douse the tingling that had started in her arms. The edge of panic made her mind whirl frantically from one idea to the next. She walked back over to the Highlander’s large horse.

  He followed. “I will take ye back to the faire.” He stepped up close to her.

  She needed his help, but could she trust him? A man she couldn’t even read? All her life she’d caught glimpses of thoughts and feelings from people. She learned their secrets without trying, their deepest desires, their hushed sins. Darkness lurked in every person. How could she trust someone she couldn’t read at all? Even his expression seemed blank. He moved closer to her, and his fresh smell cleansed her of the marshal’s foul scent. Serena drank it in.

  “I cannot leave William. He will die if I don’t get him out of there.” She searched his veiled face then sighed softly. “I know you don’t believe me, but I know that William did not stab your friend. They made it look like he did.”

  “Ye saw these people?”

  “Yes, no, well in a way I saw them.”

  “Ye were there; ye were part of the robbery.”

  “No, no, there was no robbery.” She shook her head. Her foot stamped on the cooling dirt. “It was a last minute farce to make it look like one.”

  “How do ye ken all of this if ye weren’t there?”

  Serena’s eyes dropped to the ground. “It is hard to explain.” She looked up. “I know certain things. I can see them from a distance, sometimes before they happen.”

  His eyes searched hers, but he didn’t ask any questions. Without questions she couldn’t defend herself so she held silent, waiting for him to weigh her words.

  William’s pain echoed like a dull ache in her mind. He couldn’t read her mind, but she pleaded silently with him anyway. Let him read her desperation in her eyes.

  “In return, ye will help me find those who killed Gerard?”

  Serena hadn’t expected that. She had seen them, the man and woman along with the hired murderer. But what choice did she have? She nodded quickly. “Once my brother is safe, I will help you find them.” She wanted to find them, these criminals responsible for nearly killing her brother, ruining his name, ruining his family’s name. Finding these people was important to the Highlander too. Perhaps he would truly help.

  He gave one quick nod. “A bargain, it is set,” he said plainly and looked around.

  Serena saw that the three men still stood outside the jailhouse, but how much longer would they? “You need to keep them out here,” Serena whispered and produced the keys in the folds of her skirts so that he could see them.

  “Yer a pickpocket.”

  “Only when absolutely necessary.” She hid the keys once more in a deep pocket tied around her waist under her petticoat. “I will go in through the back.” She hoped that there was in fact a back door and that one of the keys would work in it. “I can find William and bring him out. We will hide in the woods beyond and wait for you.”

  The Highlander stared. Serena sighed in frustration. What was he thinking? She couldn’t tell from his thoughts or from his face. “Will you come for us?”

  “Aye, lass, I will come for ye. If ye canna bring him out, hide on yer own. I will find ye.”

  She nodded and hoped he wasn’t lying. It didn’t matter for she didn’t have a choice.

  “So how will you distract…” Serena swallowed a breath with her unspoken words as he pulled her against his solid body. In one swift movement he wound his hands through her long hair and tugged gently to bring her face up to his. His lips descended on hers with such ferocious intent that she thought she’d be consumed by his kiss. Never had she been kissed so thoroughly. At first he had to hold her to him, her body limp with shock. But blood thrummed through her veins, heating, melting her along his length. She pushed back against him. The Highlander’s hands cupped her face. He slanted her head so that they fit perfectly against one another.

  Serena barely noticed the whoops from the three jailo
rs. She struggled to stay afloat under the onslaught of feelings rushing through her body. Her heart beat against the bone between her breasts as if beating upon the bars of a cell.

  He released her mouth and ran lips down the naked column of her neck. A tingling spread goosebumps, causing nipples to harden against her bodice. Liquid heat pooled at the juncture of her legs, making them wobble slightly. The sensations washed away the inner struggle. Like a strong drink it deadened the thoughts and feelings until she drowned in peaceful heat. Without the constant battle to ignore his thoughts and emotions, Serena’s other senses pulled in the fullness of the sensations Keenan poured into her.

  He branded a path with hot breath back to her face and over to her ear. At the same time, his hands sloped down to her backside, squeezing it, molding it to the evidence that he was just as affected by the kiss as she was.

  “Now push me away, slap me and run as if back to the faire.” His breath sounded ragged, like her own, and it took several heartbeats for his instructions to register in her bloodless brain. This was the distraction.

  William, she thought, shaking off the languid heat. Pinpricks of her brother’s fear and pain shot ice through her overheated body. It was a wonder that she didn’t see steam billow up.

  Serena yanked her head away from him. “Get off me,” she shrieked with real anger, anger for losing herself in the farce. Serena shoved against his chest with all the embarrassment she felt, all the shame. The Highlander had befuddled her mind in mere seconds. He released enough to give her access to his face. Serena’s slap shattered the hollowness of the night, causing the jailors to double over in raucous laughter. She also kicked the Highlander’s shin. He grunted and released her roughly as he rubbed the abused leg.

  “Bloody wench,” he cursed loudly, and she ran down the road until it turned, her arms pumping.

  Serena huffed, feet pounding against the dirt as she ducked off the road. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply of the moist earthy scent around her and waited for her blood to stop rushing. Her face flushed hot in the chilled air, and she touched her lips. It was only a diversion, but she’d dived right in. Like some gypsy tramp. Serena rubbed hands over her face and purposely moved her thoughts to William. There would be time for humiliation later. When her breathing slowed to a more normal pace, she gathered and tied skirts high so they would stay free of the undergrowth. In silence, she circled through the trees back behind the gaol. There she watched the silhouetted clouds glide to obscure the glowing moon and dashed to the rear of the stone building.