Read Online Black Falcon's Lady (Celtic Rogues Book 1) by Kimberly Cates - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Kimberly Cates
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given you a chance to slip our quarry out a window? Ah, no. Far better to surround the place and kick in the door. You Irish would slide a man full grown back into his mother's womb if you thought you could hide him there."
"Aye, and you English would cut open every lass of child-bearing age in the county to find him." Tade straightened, a muscle in his jaw snapping tight. "But if you're running down some desperate criminal who dared say a rosary or teach his child to read, you'd best get back to your hounds. There is no one here but Kilcannons tonight, and little Ryan's not been about his cutthroat ways of late. He's a bit of a rash beneath his napkin."
"Don't play the buffoon with me, you arrogant Irish buck, or I'll show you just how deep I'm willing to cut to find my prey."
"Your prey? And just who is this fox that he takes half an army to hunt him down?"
"You know full well whom we seek and why. Your brother, fugitive from His Majesty's justice."
"Justice?" Tade chuckled, leaning over to drop the unfinished chunk of bread into the babe's tiny fist. "That explains everything. It's impossible to be fugitive from that which doesn't exist. Ryan, here, couldn't—"
"Damn you, Kilcannon," Rath exploded, his face puffing scarlet as his coat. "I'm not after babes and well you know it! It's Devin we want. And I swear I'll tear these walls down with pickaxes to find him if I have to! Men—"
The command Rath had been about to give was lost in a shriek as Deirdre stumbled forward. "Devin?" she cried. "He's alive?”
Every eye in the room snapped to her face, and Maryssa watched in astonishment as the girl clutched at her throat, her thick honey-gold lashes fluttering closed as she drooped gracefully into a dapper young captain's arms.
The startled officer's sword clattered to the floor, his hands barely catching her as she sank to the floor. But the heavy, thunking sound of another metal object clunking against the wooden planks shattered the sudden silence like the crack of a musket. Maryssa stared in clutching fear as the side of Deirdre's apron bulged out, the outline of the pistol clearly visible beneath the thin cloth. It was a deadly gambit, Maryssa sensed in that instant, designed to distract the soldiers from their search in the desperate hope Devin could find some way to escape. Yet the danger to Deirdre herself with her scarce-concealed gun. . .
For all the girl's spirit, Maryssa could see Deirdre’s eyelids twitch, and sensed that this girl— who had probably never fainted in her life— was now terrified. A flash of movement caught Maryssa's eye. Tade reached for his knife hilt, and she knew in that instant that if he reached it he would die. Knew, too, that she couldn't let him.
"Out of my way, knave!" She swept in front of him, knocking him off balance as though he were a cur in her path. The fingers that had been a finger’s breadth from the gilded dagger crashed against the wall, any hope Tade might have held of slipping the blade out in secret dissolving as the soldiers' eyes locked on the two of them.
"Halt, wench!"
"Halt?" Stiffening her spine in Lady Dallywoulde's most haughty manner, Maryssa pushed past the stocky soldier who had stepped in her way, stamping around him to face Rath in high dudgeon. "You dare command the daughter of Bainbridge Wylder about as though she were some Irish trollop?" she demanded, praying her pounding heart would not beat its way out of her chest. "My father will have your hide for this!”
"Wylder?" Rath barked a laugh. "And what would the lord of Nightwylde's daughter be doing dressed in peasant rags warming herself at Kilcannon fires?"
"The lord of Nightwylde's daughter was all but killed by the most disgusting mount in the manor's stables." Maryssa's chin jutted upward. "The wretched beast wandered off, then threw me into a lake where I all but drowned." She let her gaze flick scornfully about the room, her voice wavering just an instant as her eyes flashed over
"Aye, and you English would cut open every lass of child-bearing age in the county to find him." Tade straightened, a muscle in his jaw snapping tight. "But if you're running down some desperate criminal who dared say a rosary or teach his child to read, you'd best get back to your hounds. There is no one here but Kilcannons tonight, and little Ryan's not been about his cutthroat ways of late. He's a bit of a rash beneath his napkin."
"Don't play the buffoon with me, you arrogant Irish buck, or I'll show you just how deep I'm willing to cut to find my prey."
"Your prey? And just who is this fox that he takes half an army to hunt him down?"
"You know full well whom we seek and why. Your brother, fugitive from His Majesty's justice."
"Justice?" Tade chuckled, leaning over to drop the unfinished chunk of bread into the babe's tiny fist. "That explains everything. It's impossible to be fugitive from that which doesn't exist. Ryan, here, couldn't—"
"Damn you, Kilcannon," Rath exploded, his face puffing scarlet as his coat. "I'm not after babes and well you know it! It's Devin we want. And I swear I'll tear these walls down with pickaxes to find him if I have to! Men—"
The command Rath had been about to give was lost in a shriek as Deirdre stumbled forward. "Devin?" she cried. "He's alive?”
Every eye in the room snapped to her face, and Maryssa watched in astonishment as the girl clutched at her throat, her thick honey-gold lashes fluttering closed as she drooped gracefully into a dapper young captain's arms.
The startled officer's sword clattered to the floor, his hands barely catching her as she sank to the floor. But the heavy, thunking sound of another metal object clunking against the wooden planks shattered the sudden silence like the crack of a musket. Maryssa stared in clutching fear as the side of Deirdre's apron bulged out, the outline of the pistol clearly visible beneath the thin cloth. It was a deadly gambit, Maryssa sensed in that instant, designed to distract the soldiers from their search in the desperate hope Devin could find some way to escape. Yet the danger to Deirdre herself with her scarce-concealed gun. . .
For all the girl's spirit, Maryssa could see Deirdre’s eyelids twitch, and sensed that this girl— who had probably never fainted in her life— was now terrified. A flash of movement caught Maryssa's eye. Tade reached for his knife hilt, and she knew in that instant that if he reached it he would die. Knew, too, that she couldn't let him.
"Out of my way, knave!" She swept in front of him, knocking him off balance as though he were a cur in her path. The fingers that had been a finger’s breadth from the gilded dagger crashed against the wall, any hope Tade might have held of slipping the blade out in secret dissolving as the soldiers' eyes locked on the two of them.
"Halt, wench!"
"Halt?" Stiffening her spine in Lady Dallywoulde's most haughty manner, Maryssa pushed past the stocky soldier who had stepped in her way, stamping around him to face Rath in high dudgeon. "You dare command the daughter of Bainbridge Wylder about as though she were some Irish trollop?" she demanded, praying her pounding heart would not beat its way out of her chest. "My father will have your hide for this!”
"Wylder?" Rath barked a laugh. "And what would the lord of Nightwylde's daughter be doing dressed in peasant rags warming herself at Kilcannon fires?"
"The lord of Nightwylde's daughter was all but killed by the most disgusting mount in the manor's stables." Maryssa's chin jutted upward. "The wretched beast wandered off, then threw me into a lake where I all but drowned." She let her gaze flick scornfully about the room, her voice wavering just an instant as her eyes flashed over
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