Page 29 of Highland Crown
“Your weapons,” Cinaed ordered. “Place them on the table and step away.”
Luckily for all of them, he was smart enough to realize Cinaed wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.
“Do it, Davidson,” the lieutenant growled, never losing eye contact.
Whether he killed this man or not, Cinaed’s life was changed forever. His decision was made in the taproom. He could have walked away and gone to Inverness and gotten a berth on the next ship to Halifax. But he didn’t. When he stepped into this room, he was giving the British authorities a face. A face that he’d kept hidden from them for all the years of his illegal activities. The facethey’d been searching for since he’d stolen a revenue cutter and ran it aground eight years ago. He was now a target.
And the man on the other end of this pistol was capable of destroying him.
Davidson put his pistol and saber where he was told, but his eyes were darting across the room, looking for some advantage.
“And that knife in your boot.” Cinaed waited until the sergeant complied, then spoke to the officer. “Now you. Slowly.”
The lieutenant unfastened his sword and slid it onto the table. He, too, was carrying a knife, which he tossed up with the other weapons. Cinaed released his grip on the man’s coat, and the officer stood up, straightening his clothing.
“I am Lieutenant Ellis Hudson of the 10th Royal Hussars. You’ll hang for this.”
“Too bad you won’t be around to enjoy it.” For years now, his hangable offenses against the crown had been piling up. He could die only once. He gestured toward Davidson. “The penalty is the same if I kill you both right now.”
Behind him, Jean quickly latched the door. He had no worry about the innkeeper. The man and his wife were too frightened to cross him now. They’d taken his money and would do his bidding, but he’d made it clear they’d be dead if they failed him.
“Back up.” Getting on his feet was painful, but Isabella looped his arm around her neck, helping him up.
He stole a look at her. A touch of color was slowly creeping back into her fair complexion. It must have been terrifying, finding these two waiting for her. Hesurveyed the dining room. Not the best of situations. There was only the one door. The space around the table was narrow, and if one of them upended the table, or grabbed Isabella or Jean, the field of battle would change drastically. And, by the devil, the stakes were high. They could all quite easily die here at the hands of these soldiers.
The sergeant was edging toward the table.
“Don’t.” Cinaed pointed the muzzle directly at the commander’s heart. The man stopped. If they decided to charge him, he couldn’t take out both men, not in his present condition, but he’d make sure the officer was dead.
A wave of light-headedness washed over him. He was unsure how long he’d be able to remain standing.
“Jean, slide the weapons down to the end of the table.” A moment later she had them out of reach and was holding the pistol with both hands.
“You,” he barked at the sergeant. “Join the lieutenant. Both of you stand by the window.”
“You’ve made a grave mistake.” Hudson’s voice was as low and dangerous as the growl of a mad dog. “A fatal mistake.”
“One of us has,” he replied. “But I’m holding the pistol.”
Cinaed needed to buy some time. In spite of his tough words, his body was failing him. For a moment, he thought his knees were about to give beneath his weight, but Isabella caught him around the waist. He focused on his adversary’s face. Nothing went unnoticed by the lieutenant. He was an adder ready to strike.
“Who are you?” Hudson demanded, ignoring the taunt. “And who sent you?”
“No one sent me. I work for no one but myself.”
The officer looked at Isabella. “If no one sent you, then that makes you a vile opportunist and a mercenary.”
He could call him whatever he wanted, Cinaed thought, so long as he followed instructions.
“Then you must know,” the lieutenant continued, “that the Crown is willing to pay far more for her than any sum the rabble is offering.”
Hudson’s superior tone was becoming irksome, but Cinaed waited. He had questions about exactly who the “rabble” might be, but this was not the time to ask. He noticed when the man’s attention turned to Jean. Still holding the pistol, her hand shook excessively but she stayed true with her aim.
“The old woman is with you?”
“The old woman is with me.”
“If she didn’t shoot you, then you must have enemies nearby. They’ll surely be after you to finish what they’d started.”
