Page 51 of Beauty and the Thief

Chapter Eleven

Cal stepped in front of Bridget, effectively pushing her behind him. Lucas wasn’t known as a violent man, and the knife was more of a threat than a promise, but Cal didn’t like to guess at what a man was thinking.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d put the knife away in front of me wife.”

“Wife? Wife!” Lucas laughed. “I don’t know what scheme you’re concocting now, but if that chit is your wife, I’m the Queen of England.”

“Excuse me, sir.”

Cal closed his eyes. He and Bridget Kelly—née Murray—needed to have a discussion about what her place was in situations like this. And that place was not stepping out from behind him, as she was doing at the moment.

“We haven’t met. I’m Bridget Kelly. Cal and I married just a few days ago. We’re off to Ireland for our honeymoon.”

Lucas gave her a disreputable once-over. “You tell a good story, miss, but I don’t believe a word.”

Her hands went to her hips. “And why is that?”

“Because you don’t stink of the gutter. Now step out of the way while I collect my ten pounds from your husband.”

“I don’t have ten pounds.”

Lucas seemed unperturbed. “Surely you have something worth ten pounds. Open your luggage. Let’s see.” He grabbed Bridget’s valise from Cal’s hand and set it down.

“Now see here!” Bridget said as Lucas snapped it open. “That is my valise. You have no right to go through the contents.”

But he was already rifling through it. Cal bent down and snapped it back closed. He handed it to Bridget and slung an arm about Lucas’s shoulders. “Lucas, me boy, I’m sure we can work something out. Let’s step into this fine establishment and have a drink. Bridget,” he said over his shoulder as he steered Lucas toward the tavern. “Go to the slip. I’ll meet you there as soon as I can.”

“But I thought you didn’t drink,” she said. Again, Cal wished he’d had that conversation with her. He would have added keeping her mouth shut.

“Doesn’t drink?” Lucas laughed uproariously. “Is that what he told you? The man drinks like a horse. This might be the first time I’ve ever seen him sober.”

Bridget’s gaze flicked to Cal’s, and he saw the hurt in it before she lifted her chin and looked away.

The anger that had been building in Cal since Lucas had first pulled out the knife exploded into a fire. He’d been prepared to buy Lucas a good strong gin, talk about old times, then give his old “friend” the slip. But now he’d lost his patience for the game. He released Lucas. “You’d better have that drink by yourself.”

“Then you’d better pay me what you stole.”

The fire blazed, but Cal kept his hands steady. “I won your ten pounds. I think won is the word you’re looking for.”

“The word I want is stole. Everyone knows you cheated.”

“I don’t cheat.” Much. At least he didn’t think he’d cheated against Lucas. “Sure and I don’t need to cheat against the likes of you.”

Lucas lashed at Cal with the knife, and long years of living on instinct made Cal’s reflexes fast. He jumped back and brought his satchel up to connect with Lucas’s face. Lucas looked away to avoid a direct hit, and Cal grasped him by the elbow, wrenched his arm, and heard the knife clatter to the stones underfoot. Lucas yelled out, but Cal twisted his arm up and behind his back.

“Give me one reason not to break your arm, boyo,” Cal hissed in Lucas’s ear.

“You know you’re a cheat and a drunk.”

Cal jerked Lucas’s arm, and Lucas let out a hoarse cry. “I didn’t cheat you out of that ten pounds. I’m a better player than you, and maybe you need a reminder of that, so you do.”

“You’re scaring your wife, Kelly,” Lucas said.

Cal blinked, clearing the red haze of anger slightly. His wife? He looked where Bridget had been standing and saw she was white as a sheet and staring with her green eyes wide. She did look frightened. Christ, but he was an idiot.

He released Lucas and started toward her. “Bridget, I’m sorry.” He didn’t see the blow coming but felt it hard against the back of his head. He went to his knees. The next few moments were a blur. He wasn’t sure if Lucas had attacked Bridget or if she had come to his defense—Cal rather suspected the latter—but she leaped forward with her umbrella out before her like a sword.

Funny, he thought, as the ringing in his ears grew louder, he hadn’t even noticed that umbrella earlier. She swung it, and Cal wished that he’d anticipated the arc so he could duck, but she didn’t hit him. Instead, he heard the satisfying thwack it made when it connected with Lucas’s arm. Lucas howled and lunged at her. Cal struggled to his feet to protect her, but she paid him no attention. She swung the umbrella again, this time low, and hit Lucas in the knees. He buckled and went down.

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