Beyond a Doubt - By Felicia Rogers Page 0,10

prepared to attack.

Bryce would have tucked tail and run had the lass not been staring at him so expectantly. He retrieved a dagger from his boot and held it aloft as he mumbled to himself, “Just like defending sheep, just like defending sheep.”

“What’s that yer mutterin’, boy?”

Bryce didn’t answer while he waited for them to make the first move.

“This is nonsense,” Lucy shouted as she raised her bag and threw it into the side of one thief’s head.

The attacked man couldn’t ward off the flying bag while holding his nose and proceeded to receive a pummeling, while his companion bent over in laughter.

“Get this foul woman off of me! I can’t breathe!”

Between guffaws, his friend said, “Nay, I can’t.”

“If’n ye don’t move her away, I’m goin’ to take her clothes and sew ye up in ‘em!”

The words caused the laughing thief to act. He pinched his nostrils together with one hand while grabbing Lucy’s waist with the other. Bryce didn’t appreciate the manhandling of his companion, and rushed into action.

He shot out his fist and connected with the man’s face. Holding his jaw, the man staggered backward and knocked his friend and Lucy to the ground.

Skirts lifted and flew over her head. She kicked her legs wildly and landed a heeled shoe to the groin of one thief.

Moans and shrieks of pain came from the two men as they picked themselves up and scampered off into the woods.

Huffing and puffing, Lucy stood. Thunder boomed and lightning streaked across the sky. An arc hit the ground, lighting the fierce expression on her face. She swung her sack through the air and it landed against Bryce’s shoulder with a pop.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

He shrugged.

“You were going to let those men run off with our horse, weren’t you? Go ahead, admit it. You would have stood idly by and let them run away with our only form of transportation!”

“Me horse.”

“Whatever! The beast may not be mine but I care for her. Emissary deserves a better owner than the likes of you.”

Bryce rubbed the horse’s nose.

“And another thing, look at me when I speak.”

Bryce complied.

“What did those men mean when they talked about my foul odor? I don’t understand. You’ve said nothing.”

His gaze shifted downward, his feet scuffing the ground.

Her delicate hands, with dirt-encrusted nails, settled upon his chest and she gave him a hefty shove. Once he was out from under the tree’s protection, the pouring rain soaked him in minutes. Lucy followed. Her wet hair hung limply upon her head.

Tilting her chin upward, she raised her voice. “Why didn’t you tell me? And if you shrug your shoulders, I swear I will plunge your dagger into your heart!”

Bryce fought the urge. It took all his focus to keep his shoulders steady while he spoke. "I didn’t want to hurt yer feelings.”

“Didn’t want to — do you realize what you’ve done?”

“Nay.”

Her eyes widened as she stalked around the open field. She raised her arms above her head; her hands fluttered with irritation. “Of course you have no idea what you’ve done. It’ll be all over London. ‘Rich heiress lets herself go. Wanders around Scotland with rogue Scot, smelling like a hog lot.’ My friends will be aghast!”

Bryce nodded.

She peered at him, her eyes wild. The rain peppered her hair, washing away the dust. “You couldn’t possibly understand. A sheep farmer from Scotland doesn’t have to worry about what people say. Rumors can destroy a person within my circles. Bryce, do you hear me?” Her shoulders slumped with dejection.

Bryce led her out of the weather and to the security of the tree. “Aye, lass, I do. But ye don’t need to worry. I don’t believe the horse thieves have a connection to high society.”

“You don’t think so?”

“I don’t.”

Lucy turned in his arms. They faced one another. A look of genuine concern crossed her face. She gnawed her pink lip between her white teeth. Worry seeped into her tone as she asked, “Bryce, does my odor offend you?”

There were all kinds of things he could say. He could explain how she smelled no different from other animals, or how she reminded him of his sheep. Fear of offending her further had him staring at her lips and replying, “Nay.”

She surprised him when she answered, “Good. But when can I have a bath?”

A laugh escaped from his lips as he led her beneath the tree to ride out the rest of the storm.

Chapter Twelve

Gustav arrived in London weary and nauseous. The boat ride

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