‘I appreciate t’offer, my lord, but this bastard’s mine.’
Jack strode across the intervening space, reached down, grabbed a handful of coat and hauled the man upright again. Then he hit him several more times, driving him back step by step towards the pig pen. As the low rail caught his legs the man was pitched backwards to land supine and groaning in the mud among the hogs. Jack glared at him.
‘You’re nowt but a pig yourself so you’re in t’right company.’
‘Well put,’ said Harry.
Jack looked anxiously at Concha. ‘Are you all right, lass?’ Then seeing her cut lip his expression darkened. ‘I should have bloody killed him!’
She managed a shaky laugh. ‘I thought you had.’
Elena regarded her in concern. ‘I think we should get you inside and tend that cut.’
Harry nodded. ‘Good idea.’ He glanced towards the knot of bystanders gathered round the doorway. ‘We seem to have attracted an audience, don’t we?’
As they reached the doorway, he uttered one short and idiomatic sentence and the bystanders parted like the Red Sea. Just then the patrón appeared. His astonishment turned to consternation when he learned what had occurred.
‘Madre de Dios! That ever such a thing should happen in my house!’
Jack scowled at him. ‘Stop bleating, you damn fool, and fetch some water and a cloth.’
‘And some salve if you have it,’ added Elena. ‘If not, honey will do.’
As the man scuttled off she drew Concha towards the fire. ‘Come, sit down over here. You’re all wet.’
‘You’re wet too.’
‘A little damp around the edges,’ Elena admitted.
Now that the incident was over the inevitable reaction had set in—anger, disgust and a familiar inner chill. Suddenly the fire seemed very comforting.
Presently the patrón returned with the required items. Jack relieved him of them and pulled up a stool beside Concha.
‘We’d best get that lip cleaned up, lass.’
He dipped the cloth in the water and set to work. Concha sat still and said nothing, her face impassive, though the sidelong glances she directed at him were more eloquent. Elena left them to it and joined Harry on the other side of the hearth. He eyed her critically.
‘Are you all right, sweetheart? You look pale.’
‘It’s not fear,’ she replied, ‘it’s anger and a gloating pleasure in summary justice.’
‘It was deeply satisfying, wasn’t it?’
‘I can’t begin to tell you how deeply.’
‘Well, it’s over now.’ He glanced at the other two. ‘And Jack seems to be a competent physician.’
Elena surveyed the little scene in silence for a moment. ‘A man of many parts.’
‘Indeed he is.’
‘I’m glad he’s on our side.’
Harry grinned. ‘So am I.’
He put an arm around her and drew her closer. His nearness warmed her more than the fire ever could and slowly the tension flowed away and she relaxed against him. Never had he seemed a more solid and reassuring presence than now, and never had it felt more right to be with him.
Jack laid the cloth aside and picked up the pot of honey. He dipped his little finger and then, with infinite care, applied it to the cut lip. Then he surveyed his handiwork critically.
‘How does feel?’
‘Not so bad,’ said Concha. ‘At any rate I’ve felt far worse.’ Her gaze softened. ‘Thank you, Jack.’
‘You’re welcome, lass.’
Elena looked at Harry and saw him smile quietly.
Later she lay in bed listening to the sound of rain on the roof. Once or twice she glanced towards Harry’s cot but in the darkness it was impossible to know if he was awake or not. Either way it was enough to know he was there. Not that she imagined there would be trouble of any sort now. Between them he and Jack were a force to be reckoned with. She smiled to herself and closed her eyes. In minutes she was asleep.
The morning light revealed that the weather had not improved much. Harry eyed it dubiously through the window as they ate breakfast.
‘Do you want to stay here for a while and hope that it stops?’ he asked.
‘We’re so close to our goal now,’ replied Elena. ‘It seems a pity not to press on. After all, we’ve been wet before.’
Jack nodded. ‘You’re not wrong there, my lady.’
‘A bit of damp never hurt anyone,’ said Concha.
Harry looked at his companions. ‘Very well. Onward, then.’
Although he’d felt compelled to offer them the choice he was pleased by their decision. They were tantalisingly close to their goal now. Remaining in this dreary inn held no appeal, and besides, the weather might let up later.