Chapter 3 #3
The wicked smile came into play. “Sloan,” he told her.
“Captain Sloan Michael Treveryan, mistress, Fourteenth Duke of Loghaire. It is a Welsh title, not always recognized by the English. We have been “united” for over a century, but the English still have a penchant for acquiring Welsh lands. Nevertheless, my father was a close friend of the late and well-lamented King Charles, and therefore the Treveryans’ fortune has done well of late. ”
Brianna was amazed to hear herself laugh, but she sobered as he did.
He grinned wryly in return, and yet she sensed a tension in him, a bitterness, when he spoke of the English crown.
It was apparent that he had loved Charles II, and equally apparent that he did not bear that same love for James.
It appeared that he despised James—deeply, personally.
“The question,” he said softly, “is, who are you? Certainly not the girl Brice promised to send.”
“Brice?” Brianna murmured with confusion.
“Never mind,” he said with a shake of his head. “Who are you? Why is Matthews after you?”
Brianna blinked furiously as tears came to her eyes, her voice breaking as she spoke.
“The ‘witch’ Matthews executed this afternoon was my aunt. She didn’t even get a trial.
I tried to get her a barrister, but no one would even speak with me!
I didn’t dare go near her because my neighbor warned me Matthews would take me if I interfered.
” Brianna lowered her head, feeling her tears fall upon the linen she clasped against her chest. “Pegeen was never a witch; she was wonderful, and admired, and loved.”
Sloan reached out a finger to smooth the tears from her cheek. “Probably too well loved,” he answered quietly. “Love can breed envy, and the envious make the most vicious enemies.”
The gentle quality in his voice brought her eyes back to his.
She was suddenly acutely aware of the strength of character in his face.
The long, hawklike nose, the high-arched jet brows, the full, demanding mouth, were ruggedly arresting.
Confidence and command were indelibly stamped into them. And, a touch of arrogance.
She furiously wiped her tears away. She withdrew as far as possible from him on the bed as she thought of all that had passed between them. He was a man she might have been able to admire and respect. A man from whom she would have liked to receive admiration—and respect.
But his respect was lost to her now—as shattered as the innocence she would never know again.
Perhaps he read the thoughts in her mind. Or perhaps his own thoughts had simply fallen upon the situation. He crossed his arms over his chest and said softly, “Don’t worry, Mistress Brianna. I will take care of you.”
A tide of shame and humiliation washed through her. Brianna was grateful for life—but she felt as if her pride lay at her feet like cold ashes.
“Why should you?” she asked coolly.
His eyes narrowed. “Because I’m not fond of seeing women burned at the stake,” he replied in a low, warning voice.
“I appreciate your concern,” she heard herself murmur, “but I prefer to take care of myself. I’ll leave alone.”
“Leaving the tavern?” he inquired. “For where, dear lady?” he mocked curtly. “Matthews will seek you out through all of Glasgow—for days.”
“I won’t stay in Glasgow.”
“What will you do? Hire a coach and ride away? That’s quite unlikely. The roads will be guarded.”
“I’ll hide in the forest.”
“Forever? I don’t believe they’ll stop burning witches next month! In time, perhaps, men will know their folly. But that time could be decades away, even centuries. It wouldn’t matter either way; you would long be dust in the wind.”
Brianna swallowed with despair. His words were true. There would be no sanctuary for her in the forest she so loved. But if she could just reach the Powells, they would somehow manage to shield her.
“I’ll have to take you with me,” he murmured, more to himself than to her.
Her eyes flew open wide. “Take me with you? No! I’ve family in England; all I have to do is get to them—”
“And you’re talking in circles, girl!” Sloan exploded irritably. “Don’t you understand yet? You can’t get anywhere without me.”
“But I just told you, I have family! I—”
“You have to come with me!”
“And where might that be?” she demanded, her voice rising with fury and desperation.
“I’m not sure yet—” he began, cutting himself off sharply as he suddenly stiffened, his eyes sharp and narrow.
“What—”
“Hush!” he exclaimed.
And then she heard what he had. A commotion growing in the common room below, and the tread of footsteps upon the stairs.
A thunderous pounding on their door.
And the roar of a voice. “Open in the name of the king! I know you’re in there, Treveryan, and you harbor a witch!”
Brianna’s eyes met Sloan’s with undisguised terror. He stood, putting his breeches on, his stare willing her not to make a sound. “Get behind the screen!” he whispered.
For an instant she froze, and then she jumped to do his bidding, shielding herself with the screen and peeking around it.
To her horror she saw that he was about to open the door.