As a dozen men roared their displeasure the innkeeper beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen.

Noelle gave them a teary smile. "You've all been so kind." And, then, with a small sob, "I'll never forgive myself for endangering you as I have!"

"Wot's this?" the man in the smock said. "And 'ow could you 'ave put a room full of grown men in danger."

"Oh. sir, even twice as many men would be no match for the one who has stolen me. I mean no offense, but he is a man of immense cunning and almost superhuman strength."

The men at the tables visibly bristled with offense at her words, and the ill-kempt group of ruffians who had thus far remained silent rose as if one body. Noelle saw that Quinn was no longer smiling but was regarding her with wary respect. Satisfaction welled inside her as she drove home her final shaft.

"What a fool I was to put you all in the path of the American's wrath!"

It was as if the room exploded.

"American!"

" 'E's a bloody Yankee!"

"Curse the bastard!"

"By God, no one will ever say a dozen God-fearing Englishmen weren't no match for one scurvy American!"

"We'll show 'im?"

"By the time we've finished with 'im, 'e won't be carryin' off any more innocent young girls!" snorted a bearded man with a cast in one eye.

"Aye!"

"Let's at 'im!"

The group of ruffians moved toward her. "Where is the blackguard?"

At the blood gleam in their eyes, Noelle hesitated.

"I'm right here."

He was the only man in the room still sitting. Slowly he got up from the table and then inclined his head slightly toward the astonished patrons.

Finally the bearded man detached himself from the group. "I think you'd better come outside with us, Yankee."

"I'd be glad to," Quinn replied coolly, "but let me introduce myself first. I am Quinn Copeland, and this lady is Highness-one of the most famous whores in London."

Noelle gasped in outrage.

"What kind of greenhorns do you think we are?" one man shouted.

"Aye. We're not as easily taken in as that!"

Quinn planted one foot casually on the bench in front of him and picked up his tankard of ale. "I don't blame you for being skeptical. Highness has been deceiving men since she was eighteen."

"Eighteen! She can't be more than that now."

Quinn looked at them solemnly. "The lady is thirty years old. Remarkable, isn't it?" He gestured offhandedly toward her with his tankard. "Of course, it's much easier to tell by her body than her face."

A dozen sets of eyes turned to study her, and Noelle felt herself going pale with rage. "It's a lie!" she shouted.

But the men weren't so certain, and Noelle saw their suspicion. Lifting her head high, she blazed at Quinn, "You are a scoundrel, sir. First you ruin my young sister, and now you ruin me."

"Very good, Highness, but it won't work," Quinn drawled. "These men are much too shrewd to be taken in by your lies."

The man in the gray smock stepped forward. "Suppose you let us decide that for ourselves and tell us what yer doin' with 'er."

"All right. Although I admit I'd rather keep my foolishness private."

Quinn threw some coins down on the table. "A round of ale for everyone."

The innkeeper crept cautiously from the kitchen, and he and the old crone began refilling the men's mugs. Noelle watched with growing trepidation as Quinn stepped over to the fireplace and leaned an arm on the mantelpiece.

"Two nights ago I was in a tavern in London. Highness approached me, and we agreed on a price. Let me tell you, gentlemen, she was worth every farthing." He grinned toward the outraged Noelle. "As I was getting ready to leave for York the next day and had too much of your good English ale under my beli, I invited her to come with me. She said I would have to pay her ten pounds to make the trip. Like a fool I agreed.

"Once we were past London, she told me ten pounds wasn't enough, and I'd have to pay her more. We argued until this evening, when she swore that I must pay her twenty-five pounds or she would make me regret the day I was born. Twenty-five pounds," Quinn growled, well knowing that these men had never seen so much money at one time in their lives. "What is there between a woman's legs that is worth twenty-five pounds? I refused, of course, and now she's making good her threat. So you see, gentlemen, what a stupid fool I have been to be taken in so easily by a woman."

Noelle could see he had the sympathies of some of the men, but others still looked doubtful.

One of the farmers looked toward her. "What do you have to say to this, miss?"

Once again she permitted a small tear to escape. "I have been gently reared, sir. I don't know the art of protecting myself against such black lies."

The man in the gray smock approached her. "You tell us yer still a virgin?"

Noelle swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Let 'er prove it, I say. Get the midwife. She will tell us if the girl's maidenhead is still in place. Then we'll know if she is speaking the truth."

Noelle shrank back in dismay as the men applauded the suggestion by banging their empty tankards loudly on the wooden tables.

"I don't think that will be necessary. Do you, Highness?" Quinn said softly.

Miserably Noelle shook her head.

There were muffled growls and curses as the mood of the men turned ugly. Too many of them had known the treachery of whores, and they did not like being taken in again.

The bearded man grabbed at Noelle's cloak and yanked it off. "Leave 'er with us, Yankee. We'll teach 'er some manners!"

Fear clutched at her as she saw several more of the rough- looking men advancing toward her.

"Aye. She'll 'ave a bit more respect for men when we've done with 'er."

"Won't be so quick with 'er tricks next time."

Quinn laughed easily and walked through the men until he stood directly behind Noelle. With one arm, he caught her body in a band of steel; her shoulders were pressed back into his hard chest.

"I'm tempted to take advantage of your offer, but to be truthful, I have my own score to settle with her." With that he pushed his hand inside the bodice of her dress and began fondling her bare breast.

Noelle wanted to die from humiliation as his thumb touched her nipple, and the leering men cheered him on. She tried to pull away, but the arm around her was unyielding.

"That's the way, Yankee."

"Aye. She'll hum a different tune when ya 'ave 'er on 'er back."

Noelle pressed her eyes shut against Quinn's rough, debasing caress. His harsh laughter rang in her ears. The men's comments became coarser, their suggestions more obscene. Finally Quinn removed his hand and slapped her on the rear. "If you'll excuse me now, gentlemen, I feel the urge to finish what I've started."

There were more ribald cheers. Then Noelle felt her cloak once again settle over her shoulders and a powerful grasp steer her from the room.

As the night air brushed against her face Noelle sensed the change in Quinn. He dragged her over the broken cobbles of the courtyard with menacing purpose, the easy, laughing indolence of the taproom gone.

"You damned little fool. You almost got yourself raped and me killed with your stupid tricks."

She spun to face him, an angry retort ready, but the savage fury etched on his face stopped her. His lips were rimmed white with rage; a muscle twitched in the corner of his cheek.

"You still haven't learned, have you? You're not going to get away from me until I'm finished with you." With iron talons he caught her shoulders and gave her one vicious shake. "If you ever try anything like that again, by God, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life."

He hurled her into the carriage and slammed the door shut with such force that the entire body shook on its springs. Noelle heard him climb to the top, and then the carriage lurched forward so suddenly that she was thrown to the floor. Pulling herself back up on the seat, she clutched furiously at the strap that hung near the door.

She had no doubt from the breakneck pace at which they were traveling that Quinn was holding the reins, but never had he driven so recklessly, letting the wheels come within inches of the deep ditches that ran along each side of the road, violently careening around curves until she was certain he would kill them all. Finally he let up on the pace, not because he cared about her comfort, she thought bitterly, but only to spare the horses.

As her wheel-born prison carried her relentlessly northward, she began to cry in earnest-at first in angry frustration over the failure of her escape and, finally, from fear of what lay ahead for her.

Chapter Twenty-two

By afternoon of the next day, Noelle guessed that they were somewhere in the northern part of Yorkshire. Puffy clouds like smoky pillows raced across the windswept sky. They had long since left the highway behind them for a sparsely traveled dirt track barely wide enough for the carriage to pass. The landscape was more desolate than anything Noelle had ever seen, with endless stretches of moorland and rocky slopes where only a few desperate trees clung to the windswept surfaces. It was a harsh, forbidding land, and they seemed to be its only inhabitants.

A chill drizzle was falling from the leadened skies when the carriage finally stopped. Unable to bear another moment inside, Noelle opened the door and stepped down into a world where the air was raw and pungent, and every sound was muffled by thick gray mist and the vast emptiness of the moors stretching in front of her. Facing out on the moorland, like ancient gnarled warriors, was a line of bleak hills. Jagged rocky scars marred the lower slopes; the upper slopes were obscured by the mist.