“Lass,” the giant rumbled, “tell him ta lay down the pistol nou.”
“No. You have evil designs upon him and I will not allow you to see them through.”
“Evil designs he brought upon himself.” He seemed very certain of that. Diantha’s heart leaped from a gallop into a careen. “Nou, tell him ta lay down the pistol.”
She scrambled for words. “Well, who hasn’t brought bad fortune upon themselves at one time or another?”
“Eads, lower your weapon and release the hammer. Carefully.” Mr. Yale’s voice had dropped.
“Ye told her ma name.” Mr. Eads studied her with his dark eyes. “Ye willna allow her ta be harmed, A think.”
“Ah, the mountain pauses to think. This is something of a surprise, I shall admit.”
“Ye imagine the Raven is the only man to think in the midst of action?”
“The Raven?”
“Madam, if you would step away from the man pointing a pistol at you, that would uncomplicate matters considerably.” His voice was so smooth she knew he could not be inebriated. The breeze fluttered in the tails of his coat and the lock of black hair across his brow, but his hand pointing the pistol at the Highlander did not waver.
She must not allow this.
“Mr. Eads, do you have a Christian name?” she blurted out.
He frowned.
“A first name,” she explained. “So that I may speak to you as a friend of sorts.”
He didn’t look away from her. “What is this, Yale? What trick are ye playing?”
“No trick to speak of. She does this. Befriends people.” He sounded perfectly at ease. “It is one of her many charms.”
Diantha did not take her eyes off the tower of man. “I suspect Mr. Yale is being sarcastic, but—”
“I am not.”
“But I should like to know the Christian name of the man who will murder me. Because you see, Mr. Eads, I shan’t allow you to kill him.”
His gaze flickered over her gown then back to her hair. “No even ta save yer life?”
“Of course not. What would my life be worth if I allowed another to die so that I could live? But more to the point, I have need of him at present. You see, four years ago my mother ran away from home, abandoning me with my young sister and going off to live in a brothel.” A brothel from which, she realized quite abruptly, she did not wish to retrieve Lady Carlyle. “I—I am determined to—to find her.” Her heart pounded. That was what she wanted, after all, to see her mother and speak with her, not however to be thrown back into the daily misery of life with her. Somehow contemplating the potential end of her existence presently, amidst the shimmering glow of an adventure both dangerous and delicious, this became very clear to her.
“Despite my stepfather’s objections I have set off on this road to find her,” she continued a bit less steadily. “But, being unfamiliar with the route, I require assistance, and Mr. Yale has pledged to render it to me. So, you see”—she could hear her voice growing stronger with each word—“if you kill him I shall be destitute, not to mention rather desperate, for I have only a fortnight to find my mother again before I am discovered by my family and sent home probably to be locked away for the remainder of my life for having done such a scandalous thing. In any case, I simply must go. Therefore, you and Mr. Yale must settle your differences in some manner today that is not killing each other.” She glanced at her traveling companion then back at the giant. “Do you both completely understand?”
To her utter astonishment, Mr. Eads lowered his pistol. The weapon made a soft metallic sound as he released the hammer. Diantha didn’t dare breathe.
“Wise man.” Mr. Yale walked forward, pistol still pointed at the Scot’s chest.
Mr. Eads’s square jaw locked and he slewed his gaze aside. “Damn ye, Yale.”
“Already taken care of, old chap.”
She darted glances between the two. Their eyes looked deadly.
“You may not shoot him,” she said hastily.
“Thank you, Miss Lucas. But if you could now—”
A female shriek cut the air, followed by a cracking noise, a massive thud, and a series of yips then a man’s shout: “Oh, God!”
Then everything seemed to happen at once. Ramses came flying around the corner, barking wildly. Mr. Yale snapped the pistol across Mr. Eads’s wrist. The Scot cried out, dropped his weapon, and swung a huge fist at Mr. Yale’s jaw. It went wide of the mark while the butt of Mr. Yale’s pistol instead found its home upon Mr. Eads’s brow. Ramses clamped on the Highlander’s boot, snarling. Mr. Eads’s hand flew to his head, a string of foreign words flowing from his mouth, and the little dog left off his ankle and retreated warily.
“Don’t try it again.” Mr. Yale plucked the weapon from the ground. “Are you otherwise armed?”
“O’ course A am.” The other man scowled, pressing his fingers to a small gash on his forehead. “A won’t use them. A only hit ye because ye hit me.”
“You should have dropped your weapon when I told you to.”
The moaning from the yard beyond took up epic proportions. Mrs. Polley’s scolds rang over it. Diantha moved toward the sounds then glanced back. Her breath jerked. Her traveling companion was holding his pistol barrel against Mr. Eads’s brow.
“I will have your word on that, Duncan.”
Duncan?
The Highlander’s massive shoulders heaved. “God damn, Yale.” He glared. “Ye have it.”
Mr. Yale lowered the pistol. “And I’ll know why you’ve given it too, after I have seen to the trouble that lies beyond.” He tossed the other man’s weapon onto the ground at his feet again, as though it were nothing at all. “Leave now or assist, as you wish. But do not go far, or your fate will prove much worse than in Calcutta.”
Diantha stared. He came to her side and she finally thought to snap her gaping mouth shut.
“You are giving him back the pistol? You know him? His Christian name?”
“And his birthday, as well as his mother’s favorite marmalade. Now, Miss Lucas, if you would finally oblige me by following my instructions, I pray you make yourself a shadow behind me and come along. Your lady’s companion, it seems, has attacked a man.”
She did as he bid, mostly because it seemed foolish to defy a man who had bested a person of Mr. Eads’s size with such little to-do, but also because she was rather shaky and following him felt safe. He made her feel safe, despite the hulking Highlander retrieving his pistol behind her and the moaning man in the yard ahead. Yet at the same time it was quite apparent to her that he was the cause of her shaking.
“This may all be somewhat unusual to me,” she whispered. “Naturally.”
“I imagine so, but it is over now.” He paused and looked down at her. “Thank you for your assistance.” It was not what he wished to say. She could see this clearly in his silver eyes that seemed to seek within her where she trembled with emotion at once both terrible and wonderful. His gaze only made the trembling worse.
“And?”
His brow drew down. “And you needn’t worry again.”
“Mr. Eads will not threaten me again, or he will not threaten you?”
“Even were he to, I suspect you could hold your own.” It seemed for an instant as though he wished to smile, but now his eyes held no light.
“Why did you pretend to be inebriated?”
“You mistake it. I did not pretend.” He turned and followed the wall around the corner.
Mrs. Polley stood over a prone man, little bits of white cheese and crockery spread all about the place like snow. The man’s face was contorted with pain. He glanced at Mr. Yale and groaned anew.
“See here, sir,” Mrs. Polley directed at Mr. Yale, “if this is that man you’re so worried about following us, he’s a bag of cowardice.”