Jerome whirled to deflect the sword thrust with his rapier. Soon the last attacker lay in a pool of blood on the cobblestones. The lanky man scanned the street for threats before he stomped over to where Kit huddled behind a rain barrel. "Why the hell are you still following me? Did you think I was out for a pleasure stroll and wanted a child for company?"
Kit shook her head so hard that her braids flew. "No, never thought that." She couldn't understand why her brother wanted her to follow this mean fellow, but the man fit the description he had given her. She frowned. "You are Jerome, right?"
Jerome gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah. I'm out to avenge my father, and it's dangerous to be around me. So why are you still hanging about? I don't need your help."
Kit gave him a reproachful look.
"What?" Jerome peered at the little girl. "Do you think with all my years of training, I still need the protection of a ragamuffin?"
Kit scowled and shook her head until her eyes rattled. "No, never thought that."
"Then why, little girl, do you follow me?"
She narrowed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My brother said to find you and tell you he misheard; your father's okay, the Smythe boys didn't do 'im in, they just beat 'im at Gin. His bad."
Jerome looked at the bodies sprawled across the cobbles. Bugger.
Opening: Deborah K. White.....Continuation: Anonymous