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strike again if his foe was foolish enough to stir. It seemed that he wasn’t. The fight was over.
    Men started to move and Leah suddenly had a clear view of the men standing across from her. She gasped when she noticed a tall man in well-cut clothes, blond hair tied back in a queue, looking directly at her.
    * * *
    Hal noticed the two lads and the scruffy dog emerge from the bushes when the fight started. More than that, he’d seen them arrive and conceal themselves there sometime before. They were both slight of build—probably no more than fourteen or fifteen years old—but he was pretty sure they weren’t locals. He’d certainly not seen them around before. Why hide? If they wanted to watch the fight, they only needed to arrive with the rest of the crowd. Hal wondered if they’d been sent here deliberately. If they were the scouts he’d been expecting these past weeks. Was this, at last, the break he’d been waiting for? It seemed unlikely. They didn’t look as though they could handle themselves if the going got tough, but too much was riding on his ability to keep on top of the situation here at the Boar’s Head to dismiss any possibility, however slight.
    He watched the fight with half an eye, all the while keeping the two lads in his sights. Who were they working for? Should he let them go and have Robert get one of his men to keep a watch on them, see where they led, or should he confront them himself?
    The decision was made for him when the fight came to an abrupt end. The challenger had a broken nose and one eye was completely closed. His injuries clearly lulled his opponent into a false sense of security. Taken unawares, he was now laid out cold and there was a stampede for Roker. He’d taken a drubbing tonight, since the champ was supposed to win. The two lads stood where they were, obviously unsure what to do next. Without hesitation, Hal strolled across to join them.
    “Are you lost?” he asked amiably, giving them an unobtrusive once-over.
    “What’s it to you?” asked the scruffier lad belligerently.
    “Merely passing the time of day. Or should I say, night.”
    His gaze rested on the second lad, who had yet to speak. There was something about him. Those slim legs, that pert backside...his gaze took in the boy’s face and he allowed himself to wonder. He’d seen those dancing eyes somewhere before. And quite recently.
    Realization came crashing in on him. He’d never seen a youth quite so perfectly formed, but the same couldn’t be said for the female of the species. This was that mousy creature who’d been part of Mrs. Wilkinson’s deputation earlier today. He hadn’t been able to see that her eyes were such a remarkable silver but if he still doubted her identity, those plump, highly kissable lips and the strand of red hair had that escaped her cap settled the matter.
    Surely the vicar’s wife hadn’t sent her, so what in the name of Hades was she doing here? It wasn’t safe for a young woman. If he could see through her disguise so easily, God alone knows, it wouldn’t take the rest of this mob long to make the connection. If that happened, there would be no saving her without undoing all the work he’d put in here for his own purposes.
    Quite why Hal felt such an overwhelming desire to protect the interfering creature from her own folly, he was unable to say. Whatever her reason for being here, it could only be bad news from his perspective. Even so, he admired her courage. He liked her a lot better like this than he did as a shrinking violet, cowed beneath the force of Mrs. Wilkinson’s indomitable will. It must have taken courage to come here with just a young lad and a scrawny dog to safeguard her...courage driven by a deep desire to learn what, precisely? Only one type of female ever came to this place, and Miss—damn it, he’d forgotten her name—certainly didn’t enter into that category.
    Hal felt a devilish desire to teach her a lesson. “Come inside, lads, and