“I am called Ivan.”
Sean hesitated before switching his food to the other hand and accepting the extended arm. “Sean.”
“Ah, a good Eire man. I am from across the sea as well. Not a lot of us around here.” He sipped his drink and glanced around the room. “And far too many Normans.”
Sean finished off his meal and glanced around. “Are there Normans here?”
The man looked at him as if he had two heads. “Enough.”
Sean didn’t care for the topic of Normans and remained silent.
“One is too many!” Ivan laughed at his own joke and slapped Sean on the back.
Sean unclenched his fist to throw back his drink. Stronger than the mead, it went down smooth. Helping himself to the clay jug, he poured himself more. Things were taking a turn for the worse with Tommy. The sooner he was done with her, the better. The sight of the curragh making its way back home had set him in a foul mood.
Ivan watched him with an expectant look. “I said one Norman is too many. Do you not agree?”
Sean knew of one Norman who was definitely too many. “Yea.”
Why not agree? Sean could put up a pretense as well as the next man. He rubbed his eyes. The memory of Brighit in that bastard’s arms. And the morning after the bedding, she’d looked… sated and very contented. The liquid burned this time.
“Eh?” Ivan was bent on conversing. “God’s teeth! They think they own the world.”
Sean wanted the man to stop talking to him. He’d made a straight line for him and there’d been no escape. “Ivan? What say we talk later?”
Sean lifted the jug and headed to the door then realized he couldn’t very well leave his little pretend lad unprotected. The last thing he’d wanted to do was play escort and God help him, not to a female. Game of chance? Was that how she’d lost the animal? Someone her sire had handed her off to. So was she betrothed now or not?
Another woman might have gone along with whatever her father said, obediently marrying and living a miserable life. Not Thomasina. She dresses up like a lad and goes off to collect her horse. She did have courage… and an arse as pale as sheepskin bleaching in the sun. That memory shot to his groin.
He surveyed the room until his eyes found the one he sought. When the redhead glanced his way, he winked. She smiled and started making her way toward him. He leaned beside the door and waited. Tommy’s head barely visible. The room was crowded with men drinking and looking for a little relaxation. He preferred to dip his wick before the others had a chance at her.
“Time away from your little friend?” She placed her hand on his chest. Her eyes widened. “My you are a broad one.”
“What? Oh. Yea.” Sean leaned forward and slid his fingers down the side of her head. Her hair was not as soft as it looked. She moved in closer, her body nearly touching him. She smelled of onions.
“Is there ought else you’d like to be touching?” Her voice was throaty.
“Yea.” The alcohol was deadening any objections. He tunneled his fingers beneath her hair. “I’d like to be doing more than touching though.”
“Mmm, as would I.” She glanced around and whispered, “Mayhap—”
“Nell!” A loud voice bellowed and the woman jumped.
Sean held her gaze, his eyebrows raised. “Nell, I presume?”
She tipped her head. “I need to see to the serving of the food.”
Sean watched her walk away. His cock was rock hard. Perhaps a walk outside. Uh. No. His ward. He glanced over at the lass dressed like a lad and finished off the bottle. What was the truth? Maybe she enjoyed this little pretense. Maybe she’d always wanted to be a boy so she dressed like one, acted like one, and probably pissed like one. He laughed aloud. Then again she wasn’t very good at the acting part. No. Hands her off to? What to hell does that mean?
He hadn’t noticed Ivan coming toward him again but there he was beside him, a horn of mead in his hand.
“Yup. A lot goes on here. Even the sounds of their lousy voices set me off.”
The man glanced around the room. He feigned a casual interest but Sean wasn’t fooled. The tightness of his grip. The intense stare whenever he looked at Sean. This man had some sort of agenda.
“Ye hate Normans.”
“Aye. I do.” Ivan glanced around before continuing. “This was not the way of it before, you know.”
“Before?”
“Before those Normans came. The sound of their rotten voices filling the room. It used to be the sweet sound of...”
Sean waited for him to continue.
“Un-Normans.” The man guffawed, bending over to slap his knee. He glanced at Sean and his ugly face curled into an uglier frown. “Thought you’d be more wary what with you being from Eire and all.”
“Wary? Go back home if ye do not care for the Normans.”
Ivan’s face darkened. “It will not be long before they cross the sea and crush us, as well!”
Sean glanced around. More than half the men were Normans and their voices did carry. That also meant there were plenty here that weren’t Normans.
“I dunna look for trouble. I have plenty of my own.”
“You don’t look like a stupid man, Sean.” Ivan took a wary step back. “You look like a man that protects what’s your own and does not care for others taking it from you.”
A punch to the gut couldn’t have been more soundly felt. This man was trouble and he egged him on. Sean took a deep cleansing breath. A man of action but it was action of his own choosing.
“Every Eire man would look out for his own. Talk like yers is trouble.” He started to move away but Ivan grabbed him with an iron fist. Sean narrowed his eyes and moved in close to the man’s face. “Either release my arm or ye’ll be parting with that hand.”
Ivan released Sean as if he’d been burned. He held his hand up in a display of contrition. “My apologies, man. I get a little excited.”
“Yea.” With a tight jaw, Sean stepped further into the room and away from the little man. Alarm bells sounded when the bald man moved to stand beside Tommy’s table. Sean crossed to her in six strides, his hand pulling at the hilt of his sword.
“And what are ye about, youngling? Are ye up to nae good?” The bald man slurred his words and seemed to have a difficult time standing upright.
Sean breathed again, releasing the sword. The petrified look on Tommy’s face tightened his gut. With a firm hand on the man’s shoulder, Sean yanked him away from the table. The man stumbled back, cursing, as he tried to get his feet beneath him. The room became silent. All eyes were on them.
They did not need this type of attention. He took a protective step toward the table. “My companion prefers to be left alone while he’s eating. That would mean ye.”
“Me?” He brushed off his tunic and adjusted it.
Sean stepped back. He felt a surprisingly keen sense of disappointment at the other man’s lack of offense. A fight now would have been enjoyable. Help to ease his tension. Then again, that would put Tommy in harm’s way, exposing her for the tempting female that she was.
Tommy looked away as if trying to ignore the man who again teetered closer as if insisting on conversing with her.
Sean shoved the man away. “Back away!”
Ivan helped the bald man to stand. “What is amiss?”
“This man took offense at me conversing with his companion,” the bald man said, again righting his clothing.
Ivan glanced toward Tommy but Sean stepped in to block his view.
“He doesn’t want you talking to the lad?” Ivan asked.
“S’pose not.” The bald man scratched at his jaw. “Don’t ken why not. Ye?”
The sides of Ivan’s mouth dropped down and he shook his head. “Damned if I know.”
Once the two walked away without incident, the room quickly filled with the sound of men continuing in their own conversation. Sean turned back toward the table. Both Tommy’s food and drink were gone. He caught a glimpse of the serving wench moving among the ever growing crowd of hungry men.
“More drink here.” Sean raised his hand, speaking loudly over the din in the room. She nodded but when she reached for the stronger brew, he waved his hand. “Nae. The cider.”
Nell paused as if confused. He gestured toward Tommy’s cup. She gave an exasperated sigh. She brought it to the table amidst raucous hollers and suggestive slaps. She all but slammed it on the table, sloshing the liquid, her eyes boring into Tommy.
“Here. It. Is.”
Tommy still had her eyes averted.
“Nae. NAE! Ye pour the drink here, dunna ye?” Damn, why was she being so miserable to Tommy?
Nell gave him a sideway glance and smirked. “Well, if you want your little lad to have more to drink, then I think you best be pouring it yourself.”
When she would have sauntered off in a huff, Sean placed his hand on her arm, then smiled. “Thank ye, Nell.”
She batted her eyes at him, her lips curling into a suggestive little bow as if just now remembering her own interest in him.
“Ye need not find me after yer done serving.” His nostrils flared. His jaw tight. “I doubt I’d get any satisfaction now that I see how ye treat yer customers.”
Nell’s eyes widened in direct proportion to the dropping of her jaw. The loud gasp echoed back at them. It took Sean a moment to realize Tommy made the sound. He gave her a quick glance. Her green eyes were round with accusation and anger and she looked at him. Confusion clouded Sean’s mind as he ran over what had just happened. He blew an exasperated breath.
Sean spoke in a loud voice. “I’ll pay my bill and be gone.”
The dark brows of the owner dipped into a dangerous frown. Nell scurried over to him, mouthing her defense before she’d even reached him. There was some satisfaction in that. The eyes now turned toward him narrowed with suspicion. He knew the look. They were seeing him as a troublemaker. Sean preferred to have done something worthy of the moniker.
When he reached for Tommy’s arm, she jerked it away and stood. He shot her a disparaging frown and pulled her ahead of him, urging her toward the door but staying close. The owner’s expression transformed with a brilliant smile for Sean when his gold coin appeared.
“Sorry for any misunderstanding.”
Sean nodded. This was the only place in town that offered rooms so he knew he had to be accepting of the apology. “I think that will cover the room upstairs as well?”
“For one night. With two others.”
“Nae. Nae one else. That’s a gold coin.”
The owner seemed to consider his offer. “A pallet to yourself and two on the floor.”
“Nae. Nae one else in the room.” Sean hated this part. It grated his nerves. He should get three rooms and food for a week with that gold.
“Done.” The owner grabbed the coin.
“What bug is up yer arse?” Sean spoke through gritted teeth once they were done paying and outside again.
“Ye embarrassed—” She glanced around then turned so that her back was to the inn before she continued. “Ye embarrassed me by acting like that. Nae lad would get served there.”
He halted mid-stride. That’s what she was angry about? It was a very good thing he’d be rid of her soon. This female’s thinking was beyond his ability to understand. He picked up his pace to pass her, leaving her behind to catch up.
“We need to find yer brother. Now!”
With a hurried gait, Sean led the way to the blacksmith’s hut.
“Why are ye going here?” Tommy struggled to keep up with him.
He didn’t care. “I need to collect the knife.”
“This is where ye found Daisy?”
Daisy! What a damn stupid name for a horse. “The same.”
“He’s going to take her back then.”
He jerked around to face her. “Stop acting like a girl, damn it.”
“Ye said I was doing fine!”
“Then ye opened yer damn mouth!”
He continued on and she ran to catch up with him.
“He’ll want my horse back.” She hissed the words.
“Not when he realizes it was stolen from ye.”
Tommy’s doubt-filled expression gave him pause but too late. A barrel-chested man bent over a horse hoof glanced up at Sean. Recognition flashed across his face.
“Ah, so ye remember me?” Sean planted himself before the man. “Now why do ye suppose I’m getting a strange feeling that ye ken something is amiss?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Head down, the man scraped the dirt with an iron pick. “You’ll have to come back on the morrow. I’m closed.”
Sean waited until the man looked up at him. He shook his head. “Now.”
The man huffed and stood, his expression a mask of annoyance. He glanced over at Tommy. “Looking for a mount?”
“Methinks ye ken I’ve already had a mount from ye.”
He squinted and looked as if he were trying to remember. “No. I do not remember you.”
“Well, ye took my coin and my knife without hesitation. And then ye gave me a stolen horse.”
“Stolen? No. All my horses are from the area.”
Tommy moved in closer, put her hand on her hip, and gave him the best evil eye Sean had ever witnessed, even pausing before she spoke. “Then how is it he rode my horse? The one that was stolen from me?”
Stolen now?
The man was slack jawed. “I don’t see how that can be true so that makes you a liar!” The man returned Tommy’s querulous tone before facing Sean. “If you’re bent on making trouble, the sheriff is in town today.”
That would be best if Sean were home but this man sounded Norman. The Sheriff was definitely Norman. What are the chances he’d get justice? And what about Tommy? He didn’t know all the details but he was not certain about her coming up before a sheriff.
He decided to change tactics. “Are ye threatening me?”
“Only if you give me trouble.”
“Ye took my money. Ye told me to use the horse and bring her back and then ye gave me a stolen horse. The owner wants it back!”
The man glanced between the two of them, a frown as deep as the River Liffey between his eyes. “The lad’s a liar. ’Tis not a stolen horse. That horse had been brought to me just the day before—”
“Ah, yer memory is returning then!” Sean crossed his arms.
The man heaved his chest with his sigh. “I remember the horse, not you! And it was not stolen. The man had just won her in a bet and needed her kept here until he returned from up north.”
Sean glanced at Tommy. Her wide eyes were trained on the man as if he were a snake about to bite her.
“The man had won himself a bride as well.”
Tommy turned a bright shade of red. She backed away slightly, suddenly unsure on her feet.
“He was to be wed?”
“Said he’d return for the horse with his bride.” The man wiped his hands on the filthy cloth at his waist. “Do you have the horse?”
“Nae.”
“You shouldn’t be listening to tales.” He turned his gaze on Tommy. “Unless he’s the one the man won it off.” The man chortled and Tommy’s color deepened.
Sean took the opportunity to take Tommy’s arm despite her initial struggle against him and turn her about, away from the other man. “I’m leaving on the morrow. You can have her then—unless I find a witness who backs the lad’s story.”
He wanted the whole story but he wouldn’t shame her here in front of this man by demanding explanations. They made it out of the lean-to and kept moving. Anger lengthened his stride and she was winded as he pulled her along.
“What is amiss? Why are we running away?”
Sean wouldn’t answer her. Not here. He needed a quiet place. He needed to get some answers. Before he realized where he was headed, they were up the hill and behind the village. The trees again giving them shelter from wary eyes.
He let go of her arm and began pacing. Strong emotions stirred inside. Emotions like anger. Like stupidity. Like regret.
“I’m not one to pry. Believe me that I would rather just walk away from this whole messy situation but I’ve a bit of a problem on my hands.”
Tommy gave him a narrow gaze and pressed her lips tightly together. “What problem?”
“Ye!”
Her nostrils flared. “I am not a problem. I was trying to get my horse back.”
“The horse that yer betrothed won in a game of chance from yer father?”
She gasped. A very girlish gasp. Her breasts heaving in her upset. Her cheeks reddened. Her eyes rounded. His breath stilled inside him. She was beautiful.
“Ye dunna ken the whole story,” she said.
“I dunna want to ken the whole story. I dunna give a damn.” Anguish flashed over her face. Sean felt a surprising burst of guilt across his chest but he pushed on.” I have my own problems. I dunna need yers. I want to go home.”
“I never asked for yer help! I only wanted my horse.”
“It was my horse until I returned it. Then it could be yer horse again.”
“It wasna his to give out.”
“It appears ye’re wrong!” Sean’s raised voice surprised him. He was more heated than he would expect. All he had to do was walk away from her. Just head into town, go to his room, and wait for the boat on the morrow. Instead he stood here wanting to… punch someone in the face or something just as drastic. Damn it. He couldn’t very well abandon her now.
Thomasina bit her lip to keep it from quivering. She would be damned to hell before she cried in front of this beef-witted oaf.
“I will just go take my horse. Be on my way. Ye can go home.”
She glanced around. The area felt more exposed than it had earlier.
“Ye dunna have yer horse.” Sean sounded almost reasonable.
Her suspicions piqued. “Yea, I do. She’s tethered at the green.”
“Nae. That is my horse. I must return her in order to get the knife back.”
“Nae.” Her knees threatened to give way. She was exhausted, like she hadn’t slept for days. She just wanted to be home with her brother and safe from their father. “Ye canna do that.”
He took a step closer. “It was not my knife to leave. I—I was irritated with one of my kinsman. I acted rashly.”
“He will understand,” she begged him.
“He will not! ’Tis of great value to him.”
What was she to do? Return home? To her father? And just accept that old man as her husband? No! Life could not be this cruel. What past transgression was she paying for? She collapsed on the ground.
“Fine. Yea. Ye should go see to this knife. Go quick.” She looked heavenward at the smattering of stars just appearing beyond the trees. “Although it may be too late. The blacksmith may be gone by now.”
She glanced back at him. “But ye can always sleep in yer warm bed. In yer solitary room. Swive the lovely red-headed wench. Then ye can return my horse, get yer treasured knife back and be off, across the sea to… what? A wife is it? An important chieftain ye serve?”
She dropped her head into her hands, no longer needing the pretense of being a strong lad. She closed her eyes. It didn’t matter. If she stayed here, her brother may come this way. He may not. He and his friends had been off stealing newborn ewes so they could come this way. Maybe. It had been a long time since their father provided for his family. He preferred to provide for himself. Strong liquor. A game of chance.
The gentle touch on her arm startled here. She straightened up. Sean kneeled beside her, smelling of horses and leather.
“I’m sorry. I will try to work this out for ye,” he said. His eyes wide in the darkness.
“Nae. ’Tis not yer problem. I’m sorry I called Daisy. I should have let ye pass and hope to catch up with her… somewhere. I dinna mean to cause ye any problem.”
She swiped at her cheek.
“Sure. Now ye look like a lad with that smear of dirt across yer face.”
“Is that all I missed? A dirty face?” Her voice was quiet. She had little left to expend on talking. No warm bed for her. No nice fire. At least her stomach was full. “Thank ye for seeing to my food.”
“Don’t be sad, Tommy.” He brushed at the dirt on her face. “Tell me yer real name.”
“I am called Tommy.”
His look of disbelief showed in the moonlight. “So now we tell each other more lies?”
“’Tis the truth! I am called Tommy.” She rubbed at her nose. “My mother? She called me Thomasina.”
“Ah, ye do look more like a Thomasina.” He brushed her hair away from her face, his calloused fingers sweeping across her cheek. A shiver worked its way through her insides, settling down low.
Mesmerized, she watched him lick his finger and swipe at her cheek. Her mother would do just that and she’d be mad as the devil. His touch felt different… more intimate. He cupped her face with a gentle hand. “That’s better. Do ye ken where we can find yer brother?”
She shook her head, overwhelmed with the impossibility of her situation. “Not for certain.”
Taking his hand from her face, she looked into his eyes. “I will not be yer burden. I will return up the hill and wait for my brother like he told me to.”
“When was that?”
She looked away. “Four or five days ago.” A lie. “He’ll be back any time. I will be fine.”
“Who is it ye’re marrying?”
A surge of repulsion that felt like she was about to throw up forced her to her feet. “Nae one. I am not marrying anyone.”
He fell off his knees to land on his backside. His eyes wide with surprise. She offered her hand to help him up. Tipping his head to the side, he eyed her hand before searching her face. He touched his fingers to hers. Lightning flashed up her arm, making it difficult to catch her breath.
Sean entwined their fingers then tugged her down next to his lap. She felt tiny beside him, her knees bent beneath her. His face so close she could see the little lines around his eyes. He placed his arm across her chest, grabbing her far shoulder. Those arms strong enough to crush an enemy. He smiled. Then with a quick heave, she was flat across his lap. Her bottom raised in the air.
“Hey!” she said.
“Now how about an honest talk?” His tone laced with irritation. “And ye can try telling me the truth if ye even have a spot of truth anywhere in ye.”