OCTAVIAN DID NOTrecognize any of these men who were standing around Syd and scowling at her. Syd was scowling just as fiercely back at them. Had he thought her clever? Sometimes, the girl did not have a lick of sense and would get them both killed if she opened her mouth again. “There you are, love,” he said, striding into the fray and placing a protective arm around her. “Our table is ready.”
He tried to walk her out of the circle, but several men barred his way. “Is she yers?” one of them asked.
He nodded. “Yes, unfortunately. I would love for you to take her off my hands, but I made a vow to protect her when we married and I aim to keep it. Captain Octavian Thorne, at your service.”
“ASassenach,” another man said and spat on the ground in a purposeful attempt to insult him.
“I will not deny it,” he replied, unwilling to take the bait. “Nor am I looking for trouble. I merely want to escort my wife to the inn for our supper.”
The man who appeared to be their leader peered at Syd for what felt like a very long while. “And ye say he is yer husband?”
“That big ox?” She turned her scowl on Octavian. “Unfortunately?You saidunfortunately, I was your wife?”
“Syd! This is no time for games. And can you blame me? I leave you alone for two minutes and you’ve gotten yourself into a fight.” Octavian had spent years in the Royal Navy in command of one of the finest fleet ships battling pirates, foreign privateers, and enemy frigates throughout the world. He was not used to losing battles, and he was not about to lose this one, either. Hedid not want to hurt any of these men, but he would if they dared set a hand on her.
But Syd was on the warpath and not about to back down. “What is it with you arrogant Scots? Do you think women really want to be ogled and pawed by drunken strangers? And you dare to draw a knife on me for interfering with your debauched advances? I’ll have you know, my husband is the finest warrior ever in existence and he’ll take all of you on if you do not apologize to me immediately. Would you ever allow anyone to behave in this abominable fashion with your wives, sisters, or daughters? Or treat your mother in this fashion? Of course not! So who will be the first one of you man enough to apologize to me?”
“Bloody, little fool,” Octavian muttered, staring down at her when she edged back to his side, “do you wish to see blood shed? Specifically mine?”
Fortunately, no one heard her answer as a mail coach thundered up to their inn, which happened to be a popular coaching inn, and rolled to a stop beside them at just that moment.
Syd eyed it, no doubt hoping to escape onto it before it took off again.
Octavian wanted to slap manacles on her, one on her wrist and the other on his because this brash bluestocking wife of his was not going anywhere but back to London with him.
He still did not know what had happened to cause this confrontation or who these men were. Obviously, they were not from the Armstrong clan.
He could do with a few Armstrong men to back him up right now.
Syd seemed determined to have him die in a blaze of glory because she was still berating these louts who looked as confused as he had ever seen any men look.
Well, Syd had a knack for evoking this response from every male she came across.
Why was he bothering with her?
How had he fallen so deeply in love with her?
And why was he stifling a rumble of laughter as she drew another breath and continued to excoriate these stunned Scots.
But there was never a doubt in his mind that he needed to be with Syd forever, even if forever was another few minutes before they were both carved to little pieces by these dirk-wielding men. He still did not question his sanity or the rightness of his decision to marry her.
He would marry her a thousand times over, even if it meant racing north to Gretna Green each time.
The brash bluestocking got under his skin.
He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep since meeting her.
She was his wife.His wife.And he had yet to properly bed her.
He did not want to die without staking that claim on her.
“Does the lass never shut up?” the one who appeared to be their leader asked him.
Octavian shrugged. “Not when she is this angry. What did you do to rile her?”
“We did no’ touch her,” another in their group retorted.
But Octavian knew they had done something sinful.
