As she secured the knife, a woman’s voice startled her. Brenna McKittrick. Good heavens, this was not the time for the innkeeper to come upon them. Johanna stilled. Slowly, she turned, expecting a look of shock on the innkeeper’s face. She saw nothing of the sort. Rather, Brenna had thinned her mouth to a slash and planted her hands on her hips.
Gerard shot her a look that bore no trace of surprise. His eyes narrowed as his full mouth curled at one corner. “I dinnae ken this was tea time. Ye forgot to bring the biscuits.”
“I thought ye might be in need of my expertise, ye daft ox.”
Brenna tugged at Johanna’s skirt, exposing the dagger. “That’s not going to be of much use t’the lass,” she said with an air of authority. “By the time she gets t’the blade under all those skirts, she’ll have little use for it.”
“Bluidy shame I dinnae carry an arsenal of ladies’ weaponry.”
“I know a thing or two about these matters.” Brenna flashed a sly smile Johanna’s way. “I’ve just the thing for ye, dear.”
“Just the thing?” Johanna repeated.
“Ye’ll like it. ’Tis perfect for a lass who needs a ready defense.” Brenna’s hint of a grin broadened. “I know why ye’re here.”
“Ye’ve always been an ally we could trust,” Connor said as he loaded the chambers on a revolver.
“This man saved my life. Saved my beloved Finn. We share a common goal, but there’s more than that. The MacMasters men, well, they’re stout-hearted as they come. As loyal to our cause as you’ll find.”
“Your cause?” Johanna digested the words. “You…and the MacMasters…”
Something odd flashed through Brenna’s eyes. She hesitated a heartbeat, as though she wondered if she’d said too much. “Our bonds go back for years…for centuries—”
“Enough of the malarkey, lass.” Gerard turned to Brenna. He’d pulled the bottom off a hollow cane and stored ammunition in the prop. “Give the lass whatever gadget ye’ve got for her. We need to be moving along.”
Brenna pressed a brooch into Johanna’s hand. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”
“Indeed.” Johanna studied the ornament. Delicate silver filigree bordered a deep red, princess-cut stone. Quite lovely. She met Brenna’s eager gaze. “Am I to understand this is a weapon?”
“Of course. Fancy jewels won’t bring naught but trouble, but a good blade…well, that’s something to treasure.” Brenna took the pin between her fingers. “Ye see this little heart on the side, scrolled in silver.”
Johanna nodded. “A latch, I presume.”
“Aye.” Brenna flicked a rounded nail against the design. A slender blade the length of her finger sprung from the jewel. “Honed fine as a razor. Sharper than the devil’s tongue.”
Good heavens, the brooch was the stuff of intrigue. Johanna watched as Brenna retracted the blade with another touch against the latch. “Most impressive.”
“’Tis a fine weapon. Ye can kill a man before he even knows what ye’ve done.”
Kill a man. Thorny vines coiled around Johanna’s middle. Tightening. Squeezing. Robbing her of breath. Could she actually plunge the devious piece into a living, breathing body? Would she be able to muster the will to take a life, much less in such a brutal way?
Brenna’s expression softened as she pinned the jewel to the lapel of Johanna’s traveling jacket. Did she sense the conflict tearing at Johanna?
“With these strapping men at yer side, ye’re most likely not goin’ to need it.” Brenna offered a smile even as her eyes hardened. “But if ye’re forced to use the blade, dinnae think twice. Aim for the throat.”
“I’ll try to remember that,” Johanna managed.
“Of course, ye’ll need to buy time to remove the pin. This will help.” Brenna slipped a hair comb from her upswept mane and handed it to Johanna.
Johanna studied the intricately wrought accessory. Tiny painted roses climbed a carved trellis adorning the comb’s long, ivory teeth. “I don’t understand—”
Brenna tapped a finger against the carvings. “Be verrae careful when ye place this in yer hair. The teeth are sharp as stilettos. With a bit of force, they’ll puncture a man’s chest. Not deep enough to kill. But the pain will disable him long enough to free the brooch and finish the job.”
The thorns around Johanna’s chest dug deeper. How would she ever employ such a brutal implement? But she might not have a choice. Somehow, she’d find the courage.
Johanna touched a fingertip to the blunt end of the comb. “Thank you.”
Brenna flashed a knowing gaze. “Ye’re a brave lass. Ye’ll get through this. And ye’ve got two of the best men I know at yer side.”
“We’ll get the bairn, Johanna,” Gerard spoke up, his voice quiet and calm. For his part, Connor held his silence, observing the discussion with a peculiar sense of detachment.
“We will indeed,” Johanna agreed. She had to believe they would succeed. There simply was no alternative.
Connor gave a nod in affirmation as he holstered his weapons. “That’s better, lass. Doubt makes ye weak. There’s no room for that here. Not with what we’re facing.”
Johanna knew he was right. But agreeing with his words and ridding her gut of sickening fear were two entirely different matters.