Highland Savage. Hannah Howell

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ paused by his table to refill his tankard and wondered why that made her eyes narrow and cause a frown to tighten her full mouth.

      “Have ye been here before, sir?” she asked as she suddenly sat down across the scarred table from him.

      “Nay, why should ye think so, child?” he asked.

      “There was something about your smile,” she said then shrugged. “’Twas familiar.”

      Lucas had no idea how a smile could be familiar but told himself to remember to be more cautious about doing so again. “Mayhap ye just see too few, aye?”

      “Certainly too few that show me such fine, white teeth.”

      “A blessing I got from my family and God. That and cleaning them regularly.”

      She nodded. “The Lady Katerina taught me the value of cleaning my teeth.”

      “A good and Godly woman is she?”

      “She was, aye.”

      “Was?”

      “Aye, she died last spring, poor wee lass.” She glared at the men who had treated her so badly. “They and the ladies at the keep say my lady killed herself, but I dinnae believe it. She would ne’er have done such a thing. Aye, and the lovely mon who was courting her disappeared on the verra same day. No one has an answer for where he went.” She suddenly looked straight at Lucas. “That is who your smile reminded me of, I am thinking. A bonnie lad he was. He did make my lady happy, he did.”

      Lucas was too shocked to do more than nod. He could not even think of something to say to turn aside the dangerous comparison Annie had just made. Katerina was dead. The news hit him like a sound blow to the chest and it took him a moment to catch his breath. He told himself that the sharp grief that swept over him was born of the fact that he had lost all chance to exact his revenge upon the woman for her betrayal, but a small voice in his mind scoffed at that explanation. He ruthlessly silenced it.

      “Is it a sin to visit her grave e’en though she is buried in unconsecrated ground?” Annie asked.

      “Nay, lass,” he replied, his voice a little hoarse from the feelings he was fighting. “Her soul needs your prayers e’en more than another’s, aye?”

      The thought of Katerina resting in the cold ground was more than Lucas could bear and he hastily pushed it aside. He also ignored the questions swirling in his mind, ones that demanded answers. He could not believe Katerina would kill herself either, but this was not the time to solve that puzzle. As he sought his revenge on the men who had beaten him he could ask a few questions, but that revenge had to be the first thing on his mind for now. When that was done he would discover the truth about Katerina’s death. No matter what she had done to him, he knew he would never be able to rest easy with the thought of her lovely body rotting in unconsecrated soil.

      “Do ye think ye could pray for her, sir? Would that be a sin?”

      Lucas had no idea and fumbled for an answer. “’Tis my duty to pray for lost souls, child.”

      “I could take ye to where she is buried,” Annie began and then scowled when Ranald and two of his companions came up to the table. “If ye want more ale, ye just needed to ask.”

      “I came to see why ye are sitting here and talking so cozily with this monk,” said Ranald.

      “What business is it of yours, eh?”

      “Ye waste your time wooing a monk, lass. If ye are hungry for a mon, I am more than willing to see to your needs.” He grinned when his companions laughed.

      “I but wished to talk to someone who has traveled beyond the boundaries of Haldane land,” she snapped. “Someone who doesnae smell or curse or try to lift my skirts.” Annie suddenly blushed and looked at Lucas. “Pardon me for speaking so, sir.”

      “’Tis nay ye who must beg pardon, child, but the men who compel ye to speak so,” Lucas said, watching Ranald closely.

      “Here now, I but woo the lass,” said Ranald, glaring at Lucas.

      “Is that what ye call it?”

      “What would ye ken about it, eh? Ye have given it all up for God, aye? Or have ye? Are ye one of those who says vows to God out of one side of his mouth whilst wooing the lasses out the other?”

      “Ye insult my honor,” Lucas said coldly, wishing the man would leave for the urge to make him pay now, and pay dearly, for every twinge of pain Lucas had suffered over the last year was growing too strong to ignore. “I but question your skill at wooing.”

      “Do ye now. And just what are ye doing in Dunlochan? There is no monastery near here.”

      “He is on a pilgrimage ere he takes his vows,” said Annie. “Leave him be and go back to your friends and your ale.”

      “Ye defend him most prettily, lass. I have to wonder why.” Ranald scowled at Lucas. “What is he hiding under those robes?”

      Even as Lucas became aware of the sudden danger he was in, Ranald yanked back his cowl and exposed the hair Lucas had been too vain to cut. For a brief moment, everyone just stared at Lucas, their eyes wide and their mouths gaping. Lucas actually considered attacking the man Ranald immediately but good sense intervened. The man’s friends were already rising from their seats and inching closer.

      Taking advantage of everyone’s shock at seeing what they thought was a ghost, Lucas leapt to his feet, grabbed his saddle-packs, and bolted for the door. He gained the outside and turned toward the stable only to stumble to a halt as someone grabbed his robe from behind. Cursing, he turned and kicked the man in the face. Knowing he would not make it to his horse in time, Lucas tossed aside his saddle-packs and yanked off his robes. By the time Ranald and his friends had finished stumbling out of the inn, Lucas was facing them with a sword in one hand and a dagger in the other.

      “So, it is ye,” said Ranald as he drew his sword and he and his companions moved to stand facing Lucas. “Ye are supposed to be dead. We threw ye off the cliff and saw ye just lying there.”

      “And ye ne’er went back to see if I stayed there, did ye,” Lucas said, his scorn clear to hear in his voice.

      “Why trouble ourselves? We had beaten ye soundly, ye were bleeding from several wounds, and we threw ye off a cliff.”

      Lucas shrugged. “I got up and went home,” he said, knowing his family would groan to hear him describe the many travails he had gone through to return to Donncoill in such simple terms.

      “Weel, ye willnae be crawling home this time, laddie.”

      “Nay, I intend to ride home in triumph, leaving your bodies behind me to rot in the dirt.”

      “I dinnae think so.” Ranald sneered as he glanced at Lucas’s left leg. “I watched ye run out of the inn and ye limp and stumble like an old mon. We left ye a cripple, didnae we.”

      Lucas fought down the rage that threatened to consume him. He had to exact his revenge coldly, had to fight with a clear head and think out every move he made. It was this man’s fault that Lucas could no longer move with the speed and grace he had before, and it was hard not to just lunge СКАЧАТЬ