The Runaway Highlander (The Highland Renegades Book 2) (19 page)

“Stop,” Aedan yelled. Elena’s whole body froze in mid-swoop. She really meant to kill her own mother.

“Don’t!” Milene’s voice startled them all. Elena rounded on her mother and swung the knife again. This time, Milene caught her arm and wrestled the knife away. It dropped to the ground with a thunk and Anne rushed forward to kick it away.

Elena collapsed to the floor in a flurry of tears and Milene sank back against the
wall, her hand resting in the open window. Aedan could see her arm shaking. He hoped this had affected her in some way, the fear.

Having a father who would sell him for money to drink and gamble, he understood what Anne and Elena must be feeling, but he’d never seen remorse from Randall Donne, so he was surprised to see it on Milene de Cheyne’s face.

Then again, she was in a room alone with three people who wanted to kill her. Perhaps it was less remorse and more a fear of death. He hoped, whatever it was, that it made her stop and think about what she’d almost done to her daughters.

Because if it didn’t, there was a good chance Aedan would kill her himself.

Chapter Fourteen

Anne held her sobbing sister and tried her best not to make eye contact with her mother. Tension was high enough in the room still that the slightest misspoken word might end for Milene de Cheyne as it had ended for Simon Alcock.

She did manage a glance at Aedan, who appeared to be watching Milene like a jailer. Warmth pooled in her chest and she reached out a hand toward him.

Without taking his eyes off her mother, Aedan grasped her hand and moved closer to the two girls. Anne hadn’t felt this safe perhaps in her entire life. He really was her Aedan.

Elena sobbed into her shoulder and sagged against her. After a few moments, Anne pulled on Aedan’s hand and he helped the two of them to their feet. They circled around Milene, cutting three jagged shadows in the light that fell on her from the door.

“Kill me if you will,” Milene finally said. She stepped away from the wall and lifted her chin. “You’re all going to hang for the Sheriff’s murder, anyway. And the collusion in the escape of the prisoners.”

“No one is going to kill you.” Anne tried to muster some force behind that promise, but she felt so tentatively certain. “At least not at this moment.”

Milene crossed her arms and the long curtain of her blonde hair feathered behind her as she shook it out. “Why not?”

“Because we’re going to leave this place and you are our mother. So we’ll let you live.” Anne mimicked her mother’s crossed arms and defiant glare. “But you’re going to do as you are told. Or we will come back for you.”

Milene took a step away from the wall and walked back and forth in front of the window. “And what, precisely, am I supposed to do?”

The pacing unnerved Anne and she drew Elena closer into her side, as though Milene might pounce at any moment.

Aedan turned back to the Sheriff and picked up his sword, wiping it on the man’s grey tunic to clean the blood. He then faced Milene with the sword pointing out toward her, following her on her back and forth movement.

Anne gathered her courage.
“You’re going to let us escape, first. You’re going to give us everything of value that you have on your person currently, second. You’re not going to give chase, third. And when the men arrive, you’re going to tell them that the Sheriff was killed by accident when he turned his sword on his own men.”

“One of those men still lives,” Aedan said. Anne glanced over at the soldier near the door and saw the movement of his stomach. “We can’t kill him now.”

“Can we take him with us?”

Aedan shook his head. “I only have transportation for the three of us.”

“I have my horse, still.” Anne gestured back toward the kitchens, where she’d left the poor thing.

“I’m including your horse in that plan.”

They both returned their attention to the Countess. She’d drawn herself to her full height and towered over Anne, extending a long finger in her direction. “Your sister is going to hang for what she did, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Aedan’s sword point was suddenly at her throat. “Don’t tempt me to kill you, Countess. For I would rather be in the dungeon myself than see your daughters held captive by your sickness one minute longer.”

For the first time in Anne’s recollection, her mother’s face collapsed in fear. Once proud features now faced death and crumbled at the thought.

Aedan left the sword up as warning and Anne moved toward her mother, leaving Elena to Aedan’s care.

“You have never been a real mother to us, and I know you don’t care for either of us, other than what we can bring you, so here’s what we’re going to do.”

“What are
we
going to do?”

Anne only laughed at the derision in her mother’s voice. “Has the Sheriff already settled the treasury on you?”

Milene’s eyes dropped to the floor. Aedan’s sword moved forward just a touch and she winced, nodding. “I have the trunks in my room.”

“You can keep the money.” Anne’s heart sank as the light of greed spread over her mother’s face. Any hope she’d held that the promise of Anne and Elena’s death would bring repentance to the Countess’ heart was quickly extinguished. With tears forming in the corners of her eyes, Anne reached for the purse at her mother’s waist. Any protest
she might have offered was squelched by Aedan’s sword.

“We’ll take only what you have on you, and what clothes we can carry on our backs.” Anne fingered the chain around her mother’s neck. This must have been a gift from the Sheriff, as it appeared to bear the marks of being made for a man. The links of the chain were large and crudely connected, but looked to be made of solid gold. At the end of the chain hung a heavy amulet, a gold circle with a green stone at the center. Some words had been etched into the circlet, but Anne couldn’t read them—they must have been in Latin or some foreign tongue.

She pulled the chain until it wrapped up in the Countess’ hair and then slid free and down the length of Aedan’s sword. The purse was heavy enough, Anne thought there was probably a hundred pieces of silver even in that. Perhaps more.

“And what do I tell the men when they return?” Milene asked, glancing down at the sword edge.

“Tell them whatever you like.” Anne backed up until she felt the strength of Aedan’s chest behind her and she leaned into him.

“And you’ll, what? Run away with a deformed man and a lunatic sister?” Milene laughed.

Anne felt Aedan tense behind her. “You don’t know him, mother. He’s more of a man than anyone you’ll ever meet.”

“I don’t doubt he has to be, looking like that.”

Anne’s pulse rushed and she put her hand on Aedan’s arm. “Don’t listen to her, Aedan. She’s just trying to get you to do something stupid so she can escape.”

Milene cackled a laugh. “You have more of me than you think, daughter. What a brilliant plan to manipulate this poor fool into thinking you love him. He’ll never see it coming when you disappear with my money and leave him to take the punishment that belongs to your poor, idiot sister.”

“Say what you want, mother. We’re not listening.” Anne tightened her grip on Aedan’s arm and leaned back into his chest again, looking up at him.

The determination in his face told her two things. He wasn’t going to do anything to rise to the bait. And. He believed her mother. Deep down, he believed Anne would leave him. The uncertainty lined his eyes, even as his jaw was set in determination.

What she wouldn’t give to take back her actions of the last week and just have the opportunity to make Aedan trust her again. But she’d ruined that. Maybe forever.

“He’s not stupid, Anne. This is a smart one you’ve picked.” Milene’s eyes narrowed on her daughter. “You’d better hope he doesn’t double-cross you in the end.”

“That’s enough out of you, woman.” Aedan’s voice was full of barely-leashed fury. “You’re going to stay silent until we’re gone.”

“They’re never going to believe me when I tell them you killed the Sheriff if you leave me here.” Milene’s arm shot out and her hand latched onto Anne’s wrist.

Anne freed her other hand, knowing Aedan was in control, and plucked at her mother’s strong fingers. “Stop, Mother.”

But the scuffle brought her mother’s throat into contact with the sword and a tiny line of blood leaked out. Aedan immediately dropped the weapon. Had that been what she wanted all along? For Aedan to cut her throat?

As Anne struggled with her mother, scenarios sailed through her head of all the things that might happen, especially if her mother died. This could ruin everything she had planned.

Just as Milene’s fingers closed around Anne’s throat,
Anne heard a thud and the Countess went slack. She fell to the ground, a puddle of blonde hair and wool dress.

“Now they’ll believe her innocent of any wrong.” Aedan sighed and sheathed his sword, then caught Elena in his arms. He knew even before she did that she would faint.

Anne looked at him in wonder. This man. Whatever wrong he had done to deserve her, she thanked the good God that he had. The more she saw of him, the more she was convinced she couldn’t live without him.

*****

Aedan’s arms were sore by the time they reached Molnar’s home. The moon was nearly invisible, in its last phase of light, and he’d almost taken a torch when they left the castle. But they’d managed to go slow enough on the two horses that they avoided the danger spots and made it within sight of the cave before the moon disappeared and left them in the absolute pitch black.

He held Elena in his arms and wore the heavy chain around his neck. More than that, Elena held a pack of clothing and personal belongings that weighed almost as much as she did. Anne had been so frantic that she’d taken nearly everything they could carry. And forgotten they’d have to carry it for miles even after they got it down to the horses.

“Wait,” Anne called out. “There’s a cart at Molnar’s. He must have someone with him.”

“He does.”

“Shouldn’t we wait for them to leave? We are fugitives, after all.” Anne’s voice was dry and mirthless. They’d been fighting about the next course of action for most of the ride after they were sure no one followed them out of the city.

Aedan’s argument remained thus. They were fugitives. They couldn’t run back to Aedan’s father, or to Anne’s. They couldn’t even run to Andrew or Broccin who, if the Sheriff knew their names, would be fugitives as well.

Granted, now the Sheriff was dead, who knew what would become of the vendetta against the renegade Highlanders. New magistrates were famous for pardoning criminals their predecessor had failed to secure in an effort to gain favor with the townspeople or those in the shire.

“We can’t wait for them to leave.”

“Surely, we can’t risk them recognizing us.”

“The cart is mine.” Aedan’s frustration mounted
, but not necessarily with Anne. He’d forgotten to mention that Brighde was waiting for them, or that she’d even come back with him, let alone that she was pregnant and something of a fugitive herself.

At least their imprisoning parent still lived. He hoped that the quick-made bandage would save Milene de Cheyne’s life, but it had been her own fault, lunging at them with his sword at her neck.

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” Anne laughed. “At least we won’t have to carry all our worldly belongings on our backs.”

Aedan shrugged. “I brought it from home.” He pulled his horse to a stop as they reached the edge of the cart. Elena stirred awake and he took the pack from her still
blood-stained hands.

The memory of seeing her standing behind the Sheriff’s lifeless body would stay with him forever. He had assumed, when he saw the delicate hands holding that dagger, that it had been Anne. Having killed men before, Aedan didn’t wish that on her, not with what she’d already suffered.

But Elena. She would never live out the breadth of that moment. It would torment her more so than it would have Anne. He knew that the moment he saw her wide, tearless eyes. The poor girl would be haunted by that terror until death took her.

He wished he’d been able to save her from that.

Aedan dismounted, then pulled Elena from the saddle and put her upright on her feet. She balked at first, but then straightened and stared up at him.

“Is it time for sleep?” She yawned and leaned back against Aedan’s chest. He glanced up at Anne.

“We can’t stay here. She’ll have to sleep in the cart.”

Anne nodded. “I’m awake. I can ride.”

Aedan took a deep breath. “We’ll have one more person with us on the journey.”

“Molnar?” Anne wondered. A cloud passed over her face. “He’s going to be so furious with me.”

“It’s not Molnar.” Aedan leaned Elena against the cart and tied his horse to the back. He helped Anne to the ground. “And I believe his fury has likely abated.”

“Who is it?”

Aedan pulled the blanket off Anne’s horse and put all of her stolen tack in the cart. He walked her horse to the front of the cart and strapped the beast into the yoke.

“It’s my very pregnant sister,” he finally said.

“Brighde?” Anne came around the front of the cart, Elena wobbling on her arm. “We’re running from soldiers in two directions, my sister’s just killed a man, I’ve stolen from my own mother, and you want to bring your very pregnant sister with us when we are escaped criminals?”

Aedan couldn’t argue with her assessment of the situation. It was accurate, if simplistic.

“You don’t understand the situation. I couldn’t leave her there. If you’d seen…”

Anne stopped him, her face softening. “Of course. I’m sorry. After we nearly die rescuing my sister, I shouldn’t be so hasty to judge you for wanting to rescue your own.”

“Thank you.”

They started for the door in the side of the hill, but Anne stopped him. Afraid it would be more chastising, Aedan tried to keep walking. Her hands, however, were insistent.

Her soft voice sent rivers of desire through him. “That was why it took you so long to get here, isn’t it?” Her eyes turned down in concerned sorrow. “And why you keep insisting we go to France. You want her to be somewhere that she can be safe from your father.”