Sage seized his arm. “Please,” she whispered. “I can decode that book, even without knowing how to read. I can do it. I know I can.”
Marcus’s heart tugged. “If I had more time, perhaps. But this is not a game. Men are willing to kill for it.” He flung the saddlebag over his shoulder, and headed for the horse.
“I’ve decoded another word.”
Marcus missed a step, stopping. His interest was piqued. Without being able to read, she had decoded another word. Could he be wrong? Maybe she had the skill. If the book were decoded, Guillume might reward him with more coin, more coin he could give to Emma and Rose. He turned to her. “What word?”
She lifted her chin but remained silent.
Marcus swore softly.
“You want to know what it says as much as I do,” Sage said softly. “You have nothing to lose by teaching me to read. I won’t try to run away. I will help you decode the book. We work together well.”
Marcus hesitated again. He was safer alone. He always had been.Shewas safer without him. He didn’t want to be responsible for her. Yet, it was because of her that he was alive. Four men had attacked him. If she hadn’t been there…
“I’ll protect you against my family,” Sage offered with a smile.
Marcus grinned. “If they find us.”
“They’ll find us.”
Yes, they most likely would. He turned and looked at the swaying branches of the trees and bushes as if the answer lay there. “Why would you willingly travel with me? I kidnapped you. I killed Brother Nicolas. Four assassins attacked us. Do you want to read that badly?”
“Yes,” Sage admitted. She took a deep breath, rolled her eyes, and added, “Plus, I want to know what secret that book holds. Besides, you didn’t really kidnap me. I could have gotten away from you.”
“You tried.” He rubbed his jaw at the memory of her kick.
Sage shrugged. “Once. I could have kept trying, but you promised to teach me to read.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, appraising him. “The only thing that bothers me about you is how you killed Brother Nicolas. He was unarmed. It was a brutal thing to do.”
Marcus bowed his head, his lips clenched. It bothered him, too. “I didn’t mean to kill him.”
