A Knight in Central Park(71)

In fact, they all seemed to be looking at him with identical shocked expressions.

“Sir Joe,” Alexandra said sweetly, taking some of the awkwardness out of the moment, “this is Sebastiano Bellini from Italy.”

“Good to meet you,” Sebastiano said, his gaze sweeping immediately to the pendant around Joe’s neck. “Where ever did you acquire such a fine piece?”

“A gift from my father,” Joe replied as he tucked the medallion inside his shirt.

“Did it hurt much,” Susan asked Joe, gesturing toward his jaw.

Joe realized she was talking about his tooth. “Hardly felt a thing,” he told her.

Alexandra took a seat on the bench, gesturing for Joe to do the same. He sat, and then helped himself to a scone and hot cider.

“Have you ever heard of the Black Knight?” Sebastiano asked.

Joe nearly choked on his food.

“Why do you ask?” Alexandra wanted to know.

Sebastiano leaned forward and said, “They say The Black Knight roams these very parts and Sir Joe’s pendant reminded me of that fact.”

“Well if you do have further information on the Black Knight,” Joe said between bites, “please tell.”

Sebastiano’s gaze roamed suspiciously over Joe as he said, “He wears dark clothes and a cape. He has a thin scar behind his right ear, and he speaks with an accent that his acquaintances have yet to identify.”

Joe’s attention was on his scone and cider. When he glanced up to refill his cup, he noticed Alexandra, Susan, and Sebastiano staring at him with wide, watchful eyes.

“What?” he asked innocently, before chuckling when he saw that they were staring at the scar beneath his right ear. He pulled his hair back so they could all take a gander. “A childhood accident. I ran my bike into a neighbor’s mailbox.” He waved a hand through the air. “It’s a long story,” he said when they all shared the same bewildered look. “And for the record, these dark clothes I’m wearing are from this very inn. Clearly, all this talk of the Black Knight and his likeness to me...it’s all coincidence.”

Sebastiano did not look convinced as he eyed the place where Joe had tucked his medallion away. “The Black Knight also wears a pendant about his neck; a pendant with a lion and a bear. Hardly ever have I seen more than one beast on such a medallion. ’Tis a sign of two powerful forces coming to heads. If you are not the Black Knight, then tell me where this father of yours is so I may ask him where he acquired it?”

A dog lay at Joe’s feet, its tail thumping occasionally against the wood planks. Voices and scuffling prompted the dog to come to its feet, alert and growling.

“What’s going on out there?” Joe asked the innkeeper who was close by, filling her tray with dirty dishes.

The woman grunted. “King Henry’s men insist that a patron of mine stole from them during the night. Judging by the commotion I can only assume they found their thief.”

Voices were raised and Joe immediately recognized it as Garrett’s sarcastic tone. Alexandra was already moving toward the door, pulling a knife from beneath her skirt.

Nearly knocking the bench over in his haste to get to her, Joe crossed the room in long strides, crushing her to his chest when he caught up to her.

They were close enough to the door to see a man holding Garrett by the waist as the boy struggled to break free. Alexandra’s chest heaved. “Let me go. They will not take my brother. I will not allow it.”

“And what exactly do you plan to do with that?” he asked, gesturing toward the dagger in her hand.

“I’m going to use it on the bastard’s throat. If those men think they can accuse an innocent boy of theft, then they deserve what they’re going to get.”

“Look at them,” Joe said under his breath. “There are two of them. They’re armed for God’s sake.”

“You think I cannot see that?”

Joe took the knife from her and concealed it within his waistband. “Let me talk to them first.”

“I nearly forgot,” she said, her voice angrier than he’d ever heard it. “You are against violence. Of course, we should talk to these barbarians, mayhap entice them with gifts in hopes they will free my brother of their own good will. Perhaps we can set up trial within this very inn, so that you may stay another eve in hopes of having the young maid scrub your back and wash your toes.”

“Jealous?”