Moonspun Magic (Magic Trilogy 3)

“Aye, she is. Guess we’ll have to take her to the Bishop. He’ll want her, that’s for sure.”

“But—”

“Shut yer trap, Bobby. She ain’t for the likes of ye. A proper little lady, she be. Why be ye here, missy?”

“Please, let me go. Who are you?”

“Now, that be right funny, missy. Just who do ye believe us to be? Frogs mybe?”

“We hopped right over the Channel, that’s what ye believe?”

“I saw the lights and thought perhaps I was near Axmouth. I didn’t know . . . are you smugglers?”

“The missy’s got a rare wit, Toby. Aye, rare. It’s a pity.”

Rafael gently pulled his pistol from his belt. He walked quietly toward the furiously struggling female and the two smugglers. He’d heard of the Bishop. The man was a mystery, for no one knew his identity, and he’d been in charge for so many years now that Rafael had assumed he was long dead. He thought with a twisted smile that if the girl was as pretty as the men thought, the old Bishop just might adopt her. Surely he was too old now for much more.

“Ye be sure she’s alone, Toby?”

“No,” Rafael said very firmly, “she’s not alone. She’s with me. Let her go, lads.”

Victoria abruptly shut her mouth, relief flooding through her. The man Toby loosed his hold on her and she stomped on his foot with all her strength. He yowled and let her go. She stumbled to the ground and lay there panting.

“Now, boys, I suggest that you take yourselves off to the Bishop with your booty. Surely there’s no reason to upset him and tell him about this little mix-up. She shouldn’t be here, and I promise you she won’t be here again. It’s obvious she knows nothing about you, and I promise you she’ll say nothing about any of this.”

“And who be ye?” Bobby demanded, his wits gath

ered again. He bent as evil an eye as he could manage at the tall man who held the gleaming pistol.

Rafael stepped closer into the light cast by the single lantern.

“Gawd, it’s the bloody baron. Ain’t it, Toby?”

My twin again, Rafael thought. So they were afraid of him, were they? “Go along with you now. You’re safe enough, at least if you obey me.”

Victoria felt her blood run cold. All her efforts, all for naught. He’d found her. He’d saved her. What to do? She came up to her knees, staring toward Damien. He wasn’t dressed as he usually was. He looked as much a smuggler as the two villains who’d grabbed her, in his long black cloak and gloved hands.

“Lookee, Baron, we have no bone with ye, but this girl here—”

“I know her,” Rafael said with great untruth. “She won’t say a word. Now, go. You have much to do, I imagine.”

Still they hesitated, and Rafael stood quietly waiting for them to finish. “Don’t you trust a Cornishman, lads?”

“Aye, oh, aye,” said Toby. “Come on, Bobby, leave the baron be.”

Victoria watched them disappear into the shadows, their lantern swinging between them. She leapt to her feet. Unfortunately, her leg, weary from the hours of walking and the scuffle, crumpled beneath her. She fell to her knees, swallowing the moan of pain from the cramping muscles.

“Are you all right?”

Damien’s voice, sounding concerned. Dear God, he was coming to her.

She screamed at him, “Stop! I won’t come with you, do you understand me? I won’t.”

She forced herself to rise, grabbed her now very dusty valise, and ran. Pain from her leg sang through her body, making her gasp, but she didn’t slow.

“For God’s sake, I won’t hurt you.” Bloody chit, he’d saved her, and here she was trying to escape him.

Rafael was tempted to let her go. She was probably here to meet her lover and had stumbled onto the smugglers. She was clumsily running, limping badly. obviously she’d hurt herself.