Loving Byrne Read Online Free PDF

have the situation in hand now, sweetheart.”
    She lobbed a glance at the twosome and frowned. “Watch out for the taller credent. I saw him tuck a second knife in his waistband.”
    Her keen observation would put many a soldier to shame. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on him.” He gave her arm a loving pat. “Move back inside. This won’t take long.”
    As she eased out of the doorway, he turned his full attention on the pair of thieves. He leveled a pointed glare at them. “I should shoot you both for what you tried to do.”
    Lizard-man stiffened slightly but remained silent. Smart and cunning. Most likely the brains of the operation. The man deserved to be locked in a jail cell and the key tossed. But sending for the authorities would take time. Time he didn’t have.
    “Please, mister,” the woman whined. “I got kids to feed.”
    Stephen shook his head. “You should’ve thought of them before you conspired with this buzzard to rob people.”
    “We won’t do it agin.” She held up her hand, palm outward. “I swear.”
    Yeah, right. These two didn’t know the meaning of honoring an oath. He wagged the pistol at them. “Go, then. Before I change my mind.”
    The two took off like cockroaches fleeing the light. Good riddance.
    “You should’ve shot them,” the cabbie said from his perch.
    Stephen holstered his pistol. “Probably. But there’s doubtless twenty more like them to take their place.”
    The cabbie grunted. “Ain’t that the truth. Where to now, mate?”
    He nodded at the darkened street. “Do you know of a stone church just around the bend?”
    “I do. Christ Church. Been there for as long as I can remember.”
    “Take us there.” For whatever good it would do. Finding Hammond inside a church was as likely as coming across a nun in a whorehouse. Not a bet he’d make even if he was rich as Commodore Vanderbilt.

Chapter Three
    Victoria hurried to keep pace with Stephen as they raced along the stone walkway leading up to the church. He’d insisted she accompany him inside to look for Hammond. Probably because he didn’t trust her to remain in the carriage. And he would be right. If trouble reared its ugly head, nothing would keep her from saving the man she loved.
    The faint glimmer of candlelight winked on the window panes of the small church. Ivy crept up the outer walls, so thick in places it covered the stone like wallpaper. A huge, weather-scarred wood cross stood guard atop the entrance. It was an old church, doubtless constructed before the War for Independence. Fitting that an Englishman would use it for refuge.
    Stephen pushed open the thick oak door, the rusted hinges squealing in protest. Simple wood pews lined either side of an aisle leading to an altar. Candles planted in tall candlesticks flanked either side of the raised platform. The only movement came from the dancing shadows created by the flickering flames.
    Her heart sank. “There doesn’t appear to be any—”
    “Shhh,” Stephen interrupted, his head canted to one side. “I heard something.”
    She cocked an ear. A faint sound wafted from the front of the church. Muffled and deep-throated. Definitely male. “It’s coming from the altar,” she said.
    They rushed down the aisle. Off to one side, a man lay sprawled face-down on the altar steps, head tucked in folded arms. Dirt soiled his finely tailored suit and dusted his tousled, short-cropped hair. Slender shoulders shook as he sobbed into his shirt sleeves.
    “It’s him.” Stephen released her hand and bent over the man. “Mr. Hammond, are you all right?”
    The Englishman didn’t answer. Just sobbed all the harder.
    Stephen jostled the man’s arm. “Mr. Hammond, are you all right? Have you been hurt?”
    The disheveled head bobbed, then lifted. Blood-shot eyes fixed on Stephen. “I cannot do it.”
    “Can’t do what?”
    “I cannot marry her.”
    “You can’t...” Stephen shoved upright, his face flushing a mottled red. “Is that