If He's Daring

by Hannah Howell

  “Is it truly that difficult to guess what plan he may have made?” she asked.

  “It is proving to be so. The man is either brilliant beyond anyone I have dealt with before—”

  “No, I do not think that could be the reason.”

  “Neither do I, considering who he hires to carry out his little plans. So, he is not brilliant, but so erratic, so without a hard, clear plan that it is difficult to sort out what path he will take next.”

  “Spoiled child,” said Giles as he grabbed a sharp knife to cut up an apple.

  Catryn almost reached out to take the dangerous knife away from the child, only to nearly gape. The way Giles wielded that knife as he cut and cored the apple was smooth and fast. Far more efficient than she had ever been with a knife. She had to try harder to recall that Giles was not your normal eight-year-old son of the gentry.

  “We know that,” said Orion. “It is but a part of the puzzle though. Why do you think it important to remind me?”

  “Suspect you have had little to do with a spoiled child,” said Giles. “I watched the gentry a lot. Naught much else to do and always best to keep an eye on the ones who might think you need jailing, or transporting, or some other less-than-kind reformation. Seen some spoiled children. Easy to say what they are like, but if you never dealt with one or watched one, suspect you cannot really know one. He will never do as you think he should. Can change his mind in a heartbeat. Can get so furious you can never guess which way he will jump. Blind furious. ‘I want, I will, I can and you cannot stop me.’ Bounce all about, they do.”

  “‘And if you try to stop me you will suffer for it.’”

  Giles nodded his head. “Seen one lad throw himself such a fit he had trouble breathing and all, but he did not stop until his nurse gave him what he wanted, mostly because she was terrified he would harm himself. Then, when he caught his breath, he kicked her and called her a stupid bitch and he was going to see her tossed out on the street. Next minute he is smiling and laughing and playing with some other boys.”

  “That sounds like Morris,” Catryn murmured. “I can easily imagine him doing the same as a child, if the opportunity arose. Did the poor nurse end up out on the street?”

  “Aye,” Giles replied. “She did, but I got into the house and had a word with the father, who was a reasonable man and he made sure she had a good recommendation. Next I saw the lad, he had a big ugly brute of a fellow watching over him.” Giles grinned.

  “So there is a problem in using my usual skills with this man,” murmured Orion. “Yet I have dealt with a few like him, or nearly so, before. It remains a bit of a puzzle. I will keep it in mind while I go do a little hunting today. You two are to stay here, and I will hire John and Thomas again to stay close and keep watch.”

  “We are not to go with you?” Catryn asked. “It is good weather for following Morris. If you find him, I should be there to help Alwyn. He has to be terribly frightened.”

  “We now know that Morris is fond of hiring men who probably should have been hanged long ago to deal with anything bothering him. It could be very dangerous to continue to chase him. A little spying-out of the situation is called for. Once I gain some useful information on where he is, perhaps what direction he is now headed in, since his plan to grab you failed, and how many men he has riding with him, it will be safer to follow him. We can then better plan the inevitable confrontation in a way that will keep us and your son safe.”

  Catryn wanted to argue with him but could not. Everything he said made perfect sense. They were but one man, one boy, and one small woman against Morris and whoever he had hired to do his dirty work. Blindly approaching him would be foolish. Accepting that fact did not ease her worry over her child, however. It was not going to be easy to sit at the inn and just wait, not knowing how Alwyn fared or what might be happening to Sir Orion.

  “You will send word if there is any trouble?” she asked, unable to hide her concern for him.

  “I will. And the two of you are to stay here and yell for John or Thomas if there is even the smallest sign of a threat.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Then I shall set off now.”

  Catryn watched him go back to his room to gather his things, tried to keep her mind on drinking the last of her tea, and then gave up. She hastily excused herself, leaving a smirking Giles behind, and went outside to wait for Orion by his mount. John nodded a greeting to her and walked away, but she could see him settle down on a bench just past the door to the inn. He was already taking up his guard post. She wanted to ask if he had discovered anything at the sheep shed but decided to wait and ask Orion.

  When Orion walked out, he looked surprised to find her there waiting for him but smiled as he settled his packs on his horse. “Going to plead to go along again?” he asked.

  “No, there may be a large part of me begging to do so, but I understand that it would be unwise. I just came out to again ask you to be very careful. I begin to think I have long underestimated the threat Morris can pose. Did John and Thomas find anything?”

  “No. There must have been yet another man watching what happened. There was no note and no trail.”

  Orion gave in to the urge to touch her hair when she sighed in disappointment, and lightly stroked the thick braid hanging down her back. It was as soft as he had imagined. He ached to see it loose and falling in waves around her shoulders. Since such thoughts made his blood stir, he quieted them before it put him in such a roused state that riding would be uncomfortable.

  “He was no true threat before now. Not really. He had little chance of winning in the courts, if only because he did not have the money to bribe enough judges.” He grinned when she frowned. “Too cynical?”

  “A touch, yet, sadly, probably deserved.” She rose up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek. “Be safe.”

  Watching her hurry back inside the inn, Orion touched his cheek. The spot she had kissed was no warmer than the rest of his skin, yet he had felt the heat of her lips seep straight into his blood. He glanced to the window of the private parlor they had booked and saw his son in the window grinning at him. There was definitely a long, serious talk due with that boy.

  Mounting his horse, he ignored the urge to go back inside the inn and see if Catryn was interested in a little more serious kissing. At the moment he had quite a few places on his body that would welcome the touch of those soft, warm lips. Shaking aside that salacious thought, he waved at Giles and rode away in the direction he was certain Morris had gone.

  There was another talk that was long overdue as well. Catryn had to be told of the possibility that she may be a far distant relation to his family, either Wherlocke or Vaughn. If Giles was right and Alwyn was talking to spirits, he would need training to deal with such a gift. Although the child could be one of those rare people outside of his clan who were born with a gift, Orion doubted it. The way Catryn could sense danger made it highly likely that there would be a Wherlocke or Vaughn lurking on the family tree. It was not unusual for families to have hidden the connection as deeply as they could; in the past, many of them had paid a high price for their gifts.

  That was not going to be an easy discussion to have. He would have to tell her some truths about his family that could have her running for the hills. Orion had to trust that she would not be afraid. She had accepted his assurances that he had a skill beyond understanding for finding anyone and anything, and she clearly accepted Giles’s assurances that he “just knew things.” Then there was how she dealt with her own son and her own gift, one she had confessed to him already.

  He had to carefully plan his argument, for he expected she would immediately deny any such connection, not out of distaste for his family but because such a connection would mean that her father or mother, or both, had hidden it from her. Orion did not need Giles’s gift to know that would sting, and sting deeply.

  Hours later, he was still sorting out the best approach to his coming talk with Catryn when he came across sev
eral big men standing around a very recognizable carriage. The man with the calf had been right the other day. It was a foolish color to paint a carriage one used to travel on these roads. The blue and gold was barely visible beneath all the filth that covered it halfway up. One of the wheels was broken and the carriage listed badly at the side of the road.

  After making certain his pistol was close at hand, Orion rode closer. To present no appearance of a threat, he kept the horse at an easy pace but also kept a close watch on the area until he was certain Morris was not around. The absence of the man did not mean it was safe to approach, as the men studying the carriage could be some of his hirelings.

  “There is a sad end for such a vehicle,” he said when all four men standing around Morris’s gaudy vehicle turned to look at him.

  “Just a broken wheel,” said a man with thick, graying hair. “All else is fine. You know this carriage?”

  “And the gent who drives it,” replied Orion, sensing that all he had here were men hired to fix Morris’s carriage. “Assume he and his precious horses have gone on to some inn.”

  “The Bald Nun.” The man grinned when Orion could not fully stifle a laugh. “Aye, fool name. If the one who named it meant to honor the woman, he could have just called it Sister Anne’s, but I suspect men would hesitate to have a pint at such a place.”

  “I think I would be counted among them. So you were sent out to fix this?”

  “We were, but I am wondering why ye are so interested.”

  “Sir Morris de Warrenne and I are at odds at the moment. He thinks he should have all his nephew has inherited and I think he should not, as does the boy’s mother.”

  “Wee lad with black curls and what can have a foul mouth from time to time?”

  “Well, I know about the black curls and big blue eyes, but had not been warned about the foul mouth.”

  The man laughed. “It can be foul indeed, but only for Sir de Warrenne. Lad was all sweet and polite to me until de Warrenne ordered him to get walking to the inn. Then the wee lad looked like he was thinking hard and said he would walk, but he would walk behind and stick his sword right up the bastard’s fat arse.” He grinned when the other men laughed but quickly grew serious again. “Lad had no sword, but fair wished I did when de Warrenne knocked him to the ground and kicked him. Poor wee lad. He sore wanted to cry. Could see it, but he stood up, brushed himself off, and started walking. Have to admire that.”

  “Good thing he did though, for that wind what whipped across the road there would have sent such a small boy sailing off into the fields,” said a stocky, dark-haired man.

  “Wind?” Orion looked around. “This was awhile ago, was it?”

  “Only came up when de Warrenne was here,” said the gray-haired man. “Came up, knocked de Warrenne on his arse, and then was gone. Oddest thing.”

  Not so odd if you happen to have a spirit as your close friend. Whatever spirit was attached to young Alwyn was clearly enraged with its inability to truly protect the child. Orion needed no more proof that little Lord Alwyn de Warrenne was the possessor of a very strong gift, one much like Penelope’s. Such things had occasionally happened to his cousin when a particularly strong spirit formed a deep attachment to her. The fact that the boy was obviously carrying on sensible conversations with the spirit told him that this was a very strong relationship. Peppered with profanity, but sensible.

  “How long do you think it will take for you to fix the wheel?” he asked.

  The gray-haired man narrowed his eyes, and Orion could almost hear the man calculating how much payment he could ask for to not do the work he was already being paid for, without sounding greedy. When he then turned to face the other three men, Orion pretended to not notice the almost silent consultation, only a few whispers passing among the men. Orion idly wondered if he should try to bargain for a lower price than whatever they asked. He needed them to delay Morris as long as possible so that he and Catryn could get closer to their quarry but did not want these men to know just how badly he needed it.

  Abruptly the gray-haired man turned to face him and stated a price that Orion had no intention of arguing with. He suspected it was the same as what they had told de Warrenne it would cost to replace his wheel. “Just how long do you think you can delay?” he asked the man as he counted out the payment and put it in the man’s big calloused hand.

  “Well now, we were just talking of sending Abe here to get a new wheel. That would only take but a few hours, as there is one in the stable at the inn. But, if we say he has to go farther to find the right one, or if I have to make a new one, well, that could take a day or two. “

  “A day would suit me fine. Two days would be even better.”

  “We will lag about as much as we can. De Warrenne gets too heated, though, and we will have to complete the job.”

  “Agreed. He promised to pay you the same amount I just did, did he not?”

  “He did. I decided that this way at least we will get what we earned as well as the pleasure of irritating him.”

  “Believe he will cheat you?”

  “Without hesitation. Has that look about him. In the way he talks, too. Man is too fond of himself.”

  “And he will be staying at The Bald Nun?”

  “He will. Funny that, he was quite pleased with the name. Most folk laugh as you did. He said that finally he would be resting at an inn with a good name and mayhap his luck has changed, or something similar. No idea what the fool was on about.”

  “Superstitious,” Orion said. “Must like the word nun. Probably weary of all the devils and hangings in the names of the inns he has passed or stayed in. Any chance you heard anything about where he plans to go once he has his carriage back?”

  “To the coast. Portsmouth. They were all talking about ships and the cost of sailing, and the men with him were not even sure they wanted to go as they have no interest in being in a foreign place. One was saying he had heard some tales about France and all, and was thinking it might be a place to stay far away from.”

  “Ah, at least one of them appears to have some wit. And now I will leave you to your work, or lack thereof. One last question, how many men does he have with him?”

  “Four, and one appears to be the manacle for the boy.”

  “Thank you kindly and forgive me if I send up a prayer or two for some rain.”

  “Tsk, that would be a shame. No work done when it be raining.”

  He left the men laughing behind him and turned to go back to Catryn and Giles. It was several miles before he realized he had stopped calling her Lady Catryn. He was growing inordinately comfortable with her company. That was also a change for him. Orion knew it was shallow, but he chose women who would give him sex and be a pretty bauble on his arm for a while. In return he gave them pleasure, a companion to take them to various events, and a shiny gift when he moved on. If he thought about companionship at all, it was just to hope that they did not bore him into a stupor or set his teeth on edge. Then he moved on a little more quickly than he might have otherwise.

  Catryn was the first woman outside of his relations that he had ever simply enjoyed being with, talking to, arguing with. She held his interest even though she was not sharing his bed. Orion recognized the danger in that but experienced no panic. That was something he should give some careful consideration to. They were bound together until they settled this trouble with Morris. Orion was not a man to leave a job half done.

  Orion touched his cheek and could not stop himself from smiling. She had told him to stay safe, and sent him off with a kiss. It was the first time in a very long time since anyone had done so. He also knew she was worrying about him and could not banish the good feeling that gave him. Complications lay ahead of him concerning little Lady Catryn, but he almost looked forward to them.

  Chapter Seven

  Orion leaned against a tree and took a deep drink of ale while he watched his son with the woman they were both so determined to help. He had been surprised w
hen Thomas had told him Catryn had taken the boy to the green next to the inn for it was no garden, simply a place where the innkeeper let some of his livestock graze. Lady Catryn sat on the grass, toy soldiers spread out on the ground in front of her, the setting sun bathing her in a warm golden light. Giles sat by her side, listening intently as she spoke of the Battle of Worcester in 1651 with a keen knowledge of not only the people involved but tactics used, and what gave one side the victory over the other. Orion found that surprising because most women knew no more about the military than what uniform they appreciated most on a man, or the name of a battle if an ancestor had gained his title for fighting in it.

  She fascinated him. That both thrilled and disturbed him. It had been a very long time since he had been fascinated by a woman. Lustful, pleasured, and sated, but not fascinated. Most of his interest in a woman had centered in his groin for more years than he cared to think about. It was true that he only pursued women he knew he had a good chance of bedding, but outside of the bed he had never found them more than passingly pleasant company, his interest in them fleeting.

  His body ached to seduce Lady Catryn but, for the first time in years, he was doing his best to ignore its demand. Instinct continued to warn him that Lady Catryn was not a woman a man easily walked away from. That was what he did; he walked away. That is what he planned to continue to do until he was too old to be interested in bed sport, or dead. Or it had been. He was beginning to think something was changing within him and did not know whether to be glad or scared.

  It must be the ale making him think so much and so deeply about a woman, he decided as he took another drink. That was the only explanation for why he stood there watching the pair, why he wanted to join them. In his mind’s eye he could see the three of them spending time on a rare sunny day like the happy family in a portrait. Wherlockes were not known for having happy families. And it would include four children: three boys he had bred on other women, plus her son. The portrait did not appear quite so calm and pastoral now but was still oddly tempting.