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smile. Given the chance, she would have taken a step backward, but in this case, that would have landed her straight in the arms of the innkeeper. She threw up her hands instead. “I have no desire to cause any trouble,” she said in a voice far calmer than she felt.
    She’d always considered herself to be on equal footing with her brothers and had never considered that other men might treat her differently. It was true that she was skilled at handling weaponry, but this situation turned her stomach. Somehow, it had never occurred to her that she might have to fight to protect her innocence. It was not at all what she had expected and the possibility of losing was most assuredly a fate far worse than that of dying in battle.
    “Oh, it won’t be any trouble at all,” she heard the innkeeper say.
    A moment later, she felt his grubby hand upon her backside. Instinct overruled any lack of confidence that the situation might have stirred in her. Without so much as turning her head, Alexandra jabbed her elbow backward and up into the innkeeper’s neck. She then ducked to avoid the blow she knew would follow from his friend. The skinny man’s punch flew over her head and made contact with the innkeeper’s nose.
    “Putain!” the innkeeper wheezed.
    Taking quick advantage of the situation, Alexandra sprang to her full height, drew her sword and rammed the hilt of it down until it made contact with the back of the skinny man’s head. He uttered a loud groan before sagging to the floor in a sorry heap of unconsciousness.
    Swirling around in one fluid motion, she pinned the angry innkeeper with her sword, her glare speaking volumes about her feelings toward him.
    He looked like a rabid dog, eager to attack. Alexandra paid him no heed. She was now in full control of the situation—her momentary lapse in confidence completely evaporated without a trace. “One should never underestimate an opponent . . . or a potential victim, as I believe you intended me to be.” She was conscious of being watched by the few guests present as they’d abandoned their food in order to take in the whole scene. Nobody moved a muscle. The room was shrouded in silence.
    “Only a woman with no morals would dress like that.” The innkeeper almost spat the words at her. “Indeed, you are no lady, and you should be treated accordingly.”
    Alexandra merely cocked an eyebrow. She would not allow this sorry apology of a man to see just how offended she was. Instead, she pressed the tip of her sword against his chest, drawing what little gratification she could out of watching him flinch. “I was willing to pay handsomely for those horses of yours—though I now believe you ought to give them to me as some form of . . . shall we say compensation?”
    The innkeeper’s eyes darkened with rage. Alexandra merely smiled at him as she needled the tip of her sword a little closer. A single drop of scarlet blood beaded around the tip before trickling down the frightened man’s chest. He winced before nodding vigorously, his eyes quickly flooding with fear.
    “Excellent,” she said, easing back a little. “Now then, would you be kind enough to show me the stables?”
    T en minutes later, Ryan and Michael spotted Alexandra racing toward them, leading two large stallions and one smaller mare along by their bridles. “Hurry up,” she yelled, her voice conveying the urgency of the situation at hand. “We’ve no time to lose. Hell will be on our heels before you know it.”
    “What the blazes?” Michael muttered. He still looked pretty groggy.
    “I suggest you do as she says,” Ryan said, jumping to his feet with enormous effort as he grabbed his bag. He took Alexandra’s too and tossed it to her. “I see an innkeeper who looks quite displeased. He has a pistol, Ashford.”
    That got Michael’s legs working. Picking his own bag up off the ground, he hurried after Ryan, taking the reins of one of the stallions from Alexandra. “What the devil