“But—” one started before her cousin cut off their words.
“Now,” she demanded. “Go! Ye are already late!”
Both guards took off toward the great hall, forgetting about the keys they had inserted in the lock.
“Hurry,” Katherine whispered as she moved in the direction of the great hall. “Ye dinnae have long.”
Ainslee nodded and slid the key into the lock, turning it while pushing on the door. The laird was standing on the other side. She motioned for him to be quiet, opening the door wider. When he stepped out, she locked the door, hoping it would buy them some time. Ainslee did not know if Katherine’s ruse would work, nor if her plan would come to fruition, but she had to try.
The laird’s movements were silent behind her as she led him to the false door that was behind a tapestry, pushing her shoulder into it to get it to move.
“Move lass,” he said, coming up beside her. Ainslee stepped aside and he pushed into it, getting the door to move. Cold, stale air seeped in from the crack; Ainslee moved through, waiting until the laird did so before they both pushed it closed.
“This way,” she urged as she moved down the cramped tunnel. Cobwebs and dust gathered on her cloak and dress as she moved over the stone, her shoulders brushing the walls on either side of her. Ainslee wondered if the laird was struggling to move in the tight space, but she did not stop, knowing that once the guards realized they weren’t needed in the great hall, they would be back and realizing that they no longer possessed the keys either.
The tunnel sloped down then up again, Ainslee’s legs growing weary the longer they walked. She did not remember the tunnels being so long as a child, though they were not running away from anyone either.
Finally, she spied the door up ahead and her heart sped up a notch. They were almost there.
The door opened easily under her touch, and Ainslee stepped out into a cool night, rain falling softly on the green ground under her feet.
“We made it!” the laird said behind her, his voice full of awe that she had led him to freedom.
“’Tis not over with yet,” she reminded him as she strode forward, where she had stashed the horses in the outbuilding earlier. No one had questioned her earlier, and Ainslee had been grateful for her disguise for once. By all looks, she was nothing but the healer attempting to secure her passage back to her hut.
With the outbuilding in sight, Ainslee started to feel some of the weight lifting off her shoulders. They were going to make it. She was going to succeed.
“Stop!”
The voice froze her veins, and before she knew it, there was a commotion behind them.
“Run!” the laird shouted, grabbing her arm, and propelling her forward. Ainslee struggled to find her footing and match the laird’s stride, her heart in her throat. It seemed their time was up.
The laird growled beside her before Ainslee was yanked in his direction, her body pressed up against his. She had only a moment to react before his arm came up around her neck.
“Halt, or I will kill her!”
What?
“Nay!” she said, struggling against him. She had just likely saved his life, and he was going to kill her?
“Quiet,” he whispered before he tightened his hold. Ainslee felt the first frisson of fear, knowing that he could snap her neck with his brute strength if he chose to do so. In her line of vision, she could see the guards spilling out of the keep, her brother at the helm. They could not get caught! Her brother would realize that she wasn’t who she had pretended to be, and then her body would hang next to the laird’s.
“Hurry!” she whispered to the laird, not caring if he did indeed, kill her. “Tae the horses!”
The laird seemed to understand and pulled her backward until they reached the outbuilding, where the horses were waiting. Instead of releasing her, he pushed her up onto a horse, swinging up behind her.
“Nay!” she protested as he spurred the horse into motion. She could not leave the horse behind. It was her freedom!
But as the horse shot across the moors, Ainslee knew the tables had turned, and the laird was now making the decisions for them both. She started to squirm against him, attempting to dislodge herself, but he clamped an arm around her waist, holding her in place. “Be still before ye disrupt us both, lass!”
Had she just traded one brute for another?
7
Arran didn’t know what he was doing.
The horse raced over the moors, the threat of an impending storm at his back. All Arran wanted to do was get on his land so he would feel a measure of relief that he had truly gotten away.
