Read Online Eochaidh - Legend of the Horsemen (Book One) by Terri Reid - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Terri Reid
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obey,” she stated, holding the
sword still. “Or I might slip, and we won’t have to worry about tying you up at
all.”
Sending her a look filled with hate, Murphy lifted his arms
over his head and waited while Jepson tied them tightly together and then tied
them to the bars of a nearby cell.
“That will hold him for a short while,” Jepson said. “At
least until we can get on our way.”
“My horse is behind the building in the copse of trees,”
Meaghan said. “I’m sure Mr. Murphy will be happy to lend you his horse, as he
forced you to leave yours back at the Gypsy camp. I’ll stay here and watch over
Mr. Murphy while you bring the horses to the back door. And then, Mr. Murphy, we
will be happy to leave you alone.”
Jepson slipped through the door as quickly as his injured
body would allow, leaving Meaghan alone with Murphy.
“You won’t be safe no matter where you go,” Murphy choked.
“When the Duke—”
“Ah, yes, the Duke,” Meaghan interrupted him. “I don’t care
what hold you have on the Duke. I can
assure you when he learns that the daughter of an earl was threatened with
death by a local magistrate, you will receive your just rewards.”
“ Ain’t no way the Duke is going to
care,” Murphy replied. “He does what we tell him.”
“Then we have no choice but to go over his head,” Meaghan
said. “My father is a friend to the crown; I am sure justice will be meted out
fairly.”
Hearing the sound of hooves coming up to the door, Meaghan
pulled her sword back from Murphy’s neck. “I would have no reluctance killing
you for what you did to Jepson,” she said. “But I would hate to deny the
hangman’s noose its prize.”
Jumping over his body, she hurried out the door and to her
horse.
“Don’t you worry, little Miss Meaghan,” Murphy cried out
after her. “This is not the last time you and I will meet. And the next time,
you will be begging me for mercy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy hung on for dear life with one hand clutching the
wooden bench as the cart sped down the bumpy dirt road and as she slapped the
reins with the other hand, pushing the horse to move even faster. Dust and dirt
were churned up into the air, and Daisy coughed continuously as a cloud of dust
encompassed her head. She glanced down at the basket of strawberries wedged at
her feet, now covered with a thick film of dust and sighed. She hoped Mr. Fitzhugh would understand that
she didn’t have any choice in the matter. She had to help save the young miss.
Glancing up, her sigh turned into a scream as she saw the
coach and four barreling in her direction. Rather than stay on their side of the road, the huge coach was traveling
directly down the center, and the coachman was whipping the reins madly, the
team frothing at their mouths, the whites of their eyes showing as they leapt
forward.
Daisy let go of her hold on the seat and grabbed the reins
with both hands, pulling on the right rein to force her poor horse into the
ditch alongside the road. The cart
lurched into the high grass leaning dangerously sideways, two wheels lifted
into the air for what seemed to be several long moments. Daisy thought for sure it was going to turn
over and she would be tossed into the road. She leaned in the other direction and kept hold of the reins,
strawberries spilling out of the side of the cart. “Whoa,” she screamed, trying to stop the
frightened horse. “Whoa!”
Finally, her horse slowed and the cart came to a stop
alongside the road. She looked over her
shoulder and noted that the coach and four had sped by without a second glance
at the cart they’d forced off the road. As the coach traveled farther down to the curve in the road, Daisy could
see the insignia on the door of the coach. It was the Strathmore crest. “Not
a bit of a surprise there,” she said, turning back to the horse in front of her
and giving it a gentle toss of the reins. “Come on, now,
sword still. “Or I might slip, and we won’t have to worry about tying you up at
all.”
Sending her a look filled with hate, Murphy lifted his arms
over his head and waited while Jepson tied them tightly together and then tied
them to the bars of a nearby cell.
“That will hold him for a short while,” Jepson said. “At
least until we can get on our way.”
“My horse is behind the building in the copse of trees,”
Meaghan said. “I’m sure Mr. Murphy will be happy to lend you his horse, as he
forced you to leave yours back at the Gypsy camp. I’ll stay here and watch over
Mr. Murphy while you bring the horses to the back door. And then, Mr. Murphy, we
will be happy to leave you alone.”
Jepson slipped through the door as quickly as his injured
body would allow, leaving Meaghan alone with Murphy.
“You won’t be safe no matter where you go,” Murphy choked.
“When the Duke—”
“Ah, yes, the Duke,” Meaghan interrupted him. “I don’t care
what hold you have on the Duke. I can
assure you when he learns that the daughter of an earl was threatened with
death by a local magistrate, you will receive your just rewards.”
“ Ain’t no way the Duke is going to
care,” Murphy replied. “He does what we tell him.”
“Then we have no choice but to go over his head,” Meaghan
said. “My father is a friend to the crown; I am sure justice will be meted out
fairly.”
Hearing the sound of hooves coming up to the door, Meaghan
pulled her sword back from Murphy’s neck. “I would have no reluctance killing
you for what you did to Jepson,” she said. “But I would hate to deny the
hangman’s noose its prize.”
Jumping over his body, she hurried out the door and to her
horse.
“Don’t you worry, little Miss Meaghan,” Murphy cried out
after her. “This is not the last time you and I will meet. And the next time,
you will be begging me for mercy.”
Chapter Thirteen
Daisy hung on for dear life with one hand clutching the
wooden bench as the cart sped down the bumpy dirt road and as she slapped the
reins with the other hand, pushing the horse to move even faster. Dust and dirt
were churned up into the air, and Daisy coughed continuously as a cloud of dust
encompassed her head. She glanced down at the basket of strawberries wedged at
her feet, now covered with a thick film of dust and sighed. She hoped Mr. Fitzhugh would understand that
she didn’t have any choice in the matter. She had to help save the young miss.
Glancing up, her sigh turned into a scream as she saw the
coach and four barreling in her direction. Rather than stay on their side of the road, the huge coach was traveling
directly down the center, and the coachman was whipping the reins madly, the
team frothing at their mouths, the whites of their eyes showing as they leapt
forward.
Daisy let go of her hold on the seat and grabbed the reins
with both hands, pulling on the right rein to force her poor horse into the
ditch alongside the road. The cart
lurched into the high grass leaning dangerously sideways, two wheels lifted
into the air for what seemed to be several long moments. Daisy thought for sure it was going to turn
over and she would be tossed into the road. She leaned in the other direction and kept hold of the reins,
strawberries spilling out of the side of the cart. “Whoa,” she screamed, trying to stop the
frightened horse. “Whoa!”
Finally, her horse slowed and the cart came to a stop
alongside the road. She looked over her
shoulder and noted that the coach and four had sped by without a second glance
at the cart they’d forced off the road. As the coach traveled farther down to the curve in the road, Daisy could
see the insignia on the door of the coach. It was the Strathmore crest. “Not
a bit of a surprise there,” she said, turning back to the horse in front of her
and giving it a gentle toss of the reins. “Come on, now,
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