He shrugged. “Then I guess we’ll just have to share.”
He pulled the blankets back, wincing as he climbed into the bed. “Come on, it’s going to get cold when the fire dies.”
She looked at him, thinking that if this was a dream, she would have to wake up soon. How long had she been here? She climbed in slowly, trying not to tense up. Lying perfectly still on her back, she looked up at the thatch above her head. A cold draft blew in from under the door, making her shiver.
At once his arm was around her, drawing her back against him, his mouth an inch from the back of her neck. She thought she’d feel tense but she didn’t. She felt safe, protected, and warm. His heat was taking the chill from her bones and within minutes her eyes grew heavy.
If this was a dream, she would wake up any moment. She could feel herself falling for the burly Highlander. He wasn’t real though. She knew that for sure. Yet, he felt so very real.
She jolted upright in bed. She’d been dreaming. Was she back home? What had the dream been about? The old nightmare. Walking through a door, a different door to the one that brought her here. She was little. A hand was on the door. Then she was trapped.
Hammering to get out. She closed her eyes, wanting to return to the dream despite her fear, knowing if she could go back often enough, eventually she’d find out what it meant.
What had woken her? Something was out there. She heard the creak of a floorboard and a rustling sound. As her eyes adjusted to the dark she realised she was still in the tavern. This was real. Her heart sank as she tried to accept that. Her brain hurt.
Fear began to rise inside her. She reached back to tap Eddard, to make sure he was still there, but he was gone. She almost cried out when a hand covered to her lips but then she realized it was him.
“Shush,” he hissed. “Dinnae make a sound,” he continued. “There are four of them trying to build up the courage to come in. Here, hold this.”
She felt something cold and sharp in her hand. He’d given her a dagger. “I can’t use this,” she hissed.
“You might have to,” he replied.
Then he was gone. She looked for him in the darkness but he’d vanished into the shadows. She waited, listening hard, the dagger gripped tight in her hand. She wished she could wake up but no matter how hard she tried, the world remained real.
Was she about to die? Who was coming for them? Was it more men like on the loch. They’d barely escaped that encounter. What chance of getting lucky twice in a row?
The sound in the corridor died away. From the next room she could hear loud snoring but nothing else. She began to hope they might have gone, that the danger was passed.
Then the door crashed open.
She heard rather than saw what happened next. Crashes, cries, muffled shouts and thuds. It lasted less than a minute and then there was a flare of flame and a candle was lit near the door, guttering but then glowing into life.
The yellow glare it provided made her gasp. Three men lay dead on the floor. Eddard was standing among them, his sword dripping with blood.
“You said there were four,” she said. “Where’s the other one?”
“Here,” a voice said behind her. A cold blade pressed to her throat an instant later. She was dragged to her feet as Eddard bristled, his sword hand itching to move.
“You should have stayed on your island,” her captor said. “Put the sword down and you won’t have to see her innards spilled. Would be a shame to ruin such a pretty one.”
“All right,” Eddard replied, letting his sword drop to the ground. “Now let her go.”
“You really are a fool,” the man said, lifting the dagger from Jessica’s throat. He went to throw it but as he flicked his arm, she shoved him backward as hard as she could.
He let out a scream and she spun on the spot in time to see him crashing through the flimsy shutters to fall from sight. She ran to the window and looked out. He was dead, having landed on his head in the yard below.
“Wait here,” Eddard said.
He ran from the room and she thought about obeying him but then she looked down at the corpses, blood spreading across the floorboards under them. She crept out of the room, descending the stairs, stopping halfway when she heard voices.
Leaning down she was able to peep into the main room. Eddard had the landlord up against the wall, sword pressed into his ribs. “How much did they pay you?” he was asking. “Was it worth it?”
“Please,” Scott begged, spitting his words out. “Dinnae kill me.”
“Was it worth it?”
“We can split it, fifty-fifty, just listen to me a minute.”
