The Princess and the Peer (43 page)

The innkeeper’s arms dropped to his sides. “Get oot!” he bellowed.

“What?” Her eyes widened in surprise.

“I saed tae get oot of me place.”

“But—”

“I’ll nae have more o’ yer lies. Yer father’s a prince, is he?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Och aye,” the man said mockingly. “And me own cousin is Bonnie Prince Charlie and me mother’s the queen.”

The room exploded with laughter—everyone roaring as they pounded fists on tables and wiped tears of mirth from their eyes. The only exception was Daniel, who studied her as she surveyed the others, her brows drawing tight in obvious confusion and dismay.

Until that moment, he hadn’t known whether she was simply telling tall tales and was indeed the liar the innkeeper assumed her to be. But Daniel could clearly see that she believed what she was saying. He had worried before that she was in shock, and now he knew it for certain.

What happened to her out on that road?
he wondered. What had frightened her so much that she would feel the need to take refuge in such an elaborate and unbelievable fantasy?

A princess from a small European nation.

Well, he had to give her credit for being inventive, because as far as stories went, hers was a corker.

“’Ere now,” the innkeeper shouted above the crowd, puffing out his chest and strutting around with his thumbs tucked into his apron. “Look at me. I’m a bluidy prince. Who’s gonna bring me mae crown?”

“Don’t know aboot yer crown, Angus,” one of the patrons called. “But I’ve got yer throne right ’ere.” With that, the man thrust an empty chamber pot into the air and waved it around by the handle.

A fresh explosion of laughter burst forth, so loud this time that it seemed to shake the smoke-blackened ceiling timbers and scarred wooden floors.

The young woman looked lost, as if the world around her had suddenly gone mad.

The innkeeper, as though just then remembering the cause of all this frivolity, turned toward her again. “Are ye still ’ere, ye lying wee vagrant? Or do ye not have the sense God gave
a goose and know when ter be gone? Now get oot or I’ll ’ave me loyal subjects ’ere dae the bootin’ fer me.”

She blinked and her skin became alarmingly pale again, as she clearly sensed the potentially dangerous change in the air.

Daniel moved forward and took up a protective stance at her side. “There’ll be no need for that,” he stated with calm authority. “I shall take responsibility for this young woman since she is plainly in need of aid. Now, if you would ask one of your serving maids to come over, she can show this lady upstairs to a room.”

The innkeeper gave a snort at the term
lady
, then shot him a look. “Yer payin’ her keep—is that right?”

“Aye,” Daniel retorted firmly. “I’m paying.”

The man opened his mouth as if to debate the matter further, then shut it again and shrugged. “Weel, it’s yer coin ter waste.”

“That’s right—it is. Now go get the maid.”

The innkeeper thrust out his lower lip and glared. Daniel glared back, knowing full well that he had the upper hand. If there were two things in this world that always won an argument, it was strength and money; Daniel was the innkeeper’s match on both counts.

With a muffled curse, the older man spun and stalked off to do as he was told.

Once he’d gone, Daniel looked back at the woman and found her watching him.

“Thank you, whoever you are,” she murmured in her soft voice. “I am sure you quite literally saved my life.”

Before he could respond, she swayed again. But instead of recovering her balance this time, she pitched over in a dead faint.

Dashing forward, Daniel caught her with only inches to spare before she hit the floor. Carefully he stood, her limp form cradled securely in his arms. Even wet and muddy, she was a pleasant armful. He studied her for a moment, idly wondering what she looked like under her tangled hair and
dirt-smudged face. Pretty, he suspected. But even if she wasn’t, it wouldn’t matter. She had needed help and it wouldn’t have been right to stand aside and let her be cast out to an uncertain fate. He remembered the words she’d spoken just before she’d fainted and the relieved gratitude in her satiny brown eyes.

“You’re welcome,
Your Highness
,” he whispered in spite of the fact that she would not hear him. “Whoever you might really be.”