At the same time, a blur of flaming red hair rushed out the door. Both Ian and the innkeeper turned in surprise.
“Leave him alone!” Miss Harrell announced and before Ian realized her intent, she smashed a pottery pitcher over the innkeeper’s head.
The man straightened in surprise, then his eyeballs rolled up and he fell backward, hitting the ground with a thump.
“My father!” the lad shouted, dropping to his side.
“His father?” Miss Harrell repeated.
“His father,” Ian confirmed.
Two hours later, after doing everything in their power to repair the damage, Lyssa and Mr. Campion were unceremoniously thrown out into the night.
Mr. Campion was not happy.
They walked down the moonlit road in silence, his long legs eating up the ground so fast that Lyssa had to skip every fourth step to keep up. She knew he had good reason to be angry…He was tired…and every once in a while he’d flex his fingers, clenching and unclenching them as if they hurt.
Finally, she could take the silence no longer. “I have the tin of salve. Perhaps it would help your hand?”
He didn’t answer.
“How was I to know the fight was over?” she argued. “I was running to your aid, which is more than anyone else back there was doing.”
He shifted his knapsack from one shoulder to the other, not looking at her.
“Don’t you believe the innkeeper may have overreacted?” she said. “After all, I didn’t intend to hurt him.”
Mr. Campion stopped so abruptly, she ran into him. In the darkness it was like running into a iron wall. She took a step back. His eyes glittered in the night.
“You cracked the man’s pate open,” he said, the Irish in his voice stronger than normal, a sign of how tired he was. “It took a good half hour for him to stop seeing double, and I’ve spentwhat little coin I had paying to have him stitched up. I know you don’t have a concept of money, Miss Harrell, but I do, and being without means we live by our wits, which lately seems to be in short supply.”
“I thought I was helping you.”
“You weren’t.” He took another step forward, then stopped as he thought of another crime to lay at her door. “Furthermore, I told you to stay in the room. Do you remember?”
She pulled her plaid tighter around her. “Yes…”
“The next time I tell you to do something—do it.”
She nodded, stung by the sharpness in his voice. And she felt like the outsider. Again. In fact, she didn’t know when she’d ever felt so alone. “Yes,Irishman, you’ve made yourself very clear.”
Tension lashed out between them. She had stepped over the line. Yet she would not call her proud words back.
His strong hands took each of her arms. He leaned down until his face was at her eye level.
“You are a job, Miss Harrell, nothing more and nothing less,” he stated as if he’d been repeating the phrase over and over in his mind. “I am going to take you safely to London and collect my money. And then, I’m going to pack up my sisters and their children and escape this infernal land for someplace where we won’t be having our heritage thrown in our face whenever someone wants to insult us. Where we can be who we are and what we choose to be. So be thankful I need the money yourfather is paying me. Otherwise, I’d turn on my heel and leave you right here.”
“You wouldn’t,” she whispered, fearful that he would.
They stood so close they were practically nose to nose. He pressed his lips together, his jaw hardening, and for a moment she could see he struggled with himself before admitting, “Damn me for being a fool, I wouldn’t.”
His hands released her and he turned away. Running an exasperated hand through his hair, he said, “Damn, I wish I had my hat…If there truly is a patron saint of lost causes, I’d best light a candle to him.”
“We aren’t indirestraits, are we?” The idea hadn’t even occurred to her. Frankly, with him at her side, she’d not worried about the details.
At that moment a fat drop of rain landed on Lyssa’s shoulder, followed by another, and another. The moon was still out, but quick-moving clouds were taking its place.
Mr. Campion swore under his breath and didn’t even bother to comment. Hooking his arm in hers, he said, “We’d better run for shelter.” The truth of his words was proven as the rain started coming down harder.
