Rebel Kiss: A Historical Romance Novel (Scottish Rebels Book 1) (15 page)

“Me too,” Anna
said, allying herself with Malcolm and patting his arm in reassurance.  She
leaned her head against Malcolm’s shoulder.

Malcolm ordered
them each a mug of ale and they shared a plate of bread and cheese.  Anna
watched as Malcolm chomped hungrily at his dinner, noticing how skinny he was
for his age.  He needed to eat more often.  Anna quelled the growling in her
stomach and slid her plate over towards Malcolm.

“I’m done.  Why
don’t you finish it?” she asked, standing and brushing the crumbs from her
skirt.  “I need to go find the privy.”

“Just doona draw
attention tae yerself.  Be careful,” Malcolm warned, already chewing a mouthful
of Anna’s leftover bread.

“I’ll be fine,
Malcolm,” she responded, patting his knee reassuringly.  Being that she was one
of only a few women in the tavern, it was going to be difficult not to draw
attention.  She stood out like a sore thumb.

Anna walked out
the front door of the tavern and into the small alley next to the building. 
The privy was a rudimentary shack between the tavern and the feed store.  Anna
tried the door and found it to be occupied, so she leaned back against the
stone wall and watched the crowd through the window of the tavern.  Her eyes
scanned from Rowan and then over to Quinn, but it was impossible for her to
tell if they were having any success.  She thought of how difficult it must be
for them to sit around a table filled with English soldiers given what they had
been through.

The door to the
privy creaked open and a soldier stumbled out, obviously drunk.  Losing his
balance as he made his way out of the privy, he bumped into Anna, grabbing
roughly at her breast a he righted himself.

“Hello, darlin’,”
he cooed at her, eyes bleary from too much drink.  The soldier looked Anna up
and down hungrily and brought his hand up to her breasts again, grabbing her
entire breast roughly in his palm and moaning as he touched her.

Anna shrieked in
protest and slapped the soldier hard across the face, pushing his hands away
from her body.  “Don’t touch me!” she screamed, fighting to remove his groping
hands from her body.

“A feisty one are
you?” the vile man asked with a smile, spittle flying from his mouth and onto
Anna.  His face was pock marked and he was nearly bald.  The soldier stumbled
forward, what was left of his messy black hair flopping over his face.  He
brushed it back, fumbling towards Anna with his hands roughly pawing her.

Anna screamed
again but her voice was drowned out by the raucous noise from inside the
tavern.  She squirmed against him, desperately trying to push his hands away from
her breasts. She reached for the dagger that was concealed beneath her dress,
but he kept pushing her hands further away from the weapon. The man pulled Anna
roughly against his body and then slammed her against the outside wall of the
tavern, pinning her against the building with his body.  He smelled of stale
alcohol and sweat.

“Rowan!” Anna
screamed, hoping that Rowan would hear her through the thin glass of the tavern
window.  “Rowan!” she screamed frantically, clawing at the man as he stumbled
and then pressed her against the building with renewed fervor.

“Stop fighting me,
you bitch!” he seethed, now angry from her protests.

Anna drew up to
her full height and spat in the man’s face, buying herself another chance to
scream for help as he wiped his eyes. 

“Rowan!” Anna
screamed desperately at the top of her lungs.  Her heart sank as her voice was
drowned out by the noise of the tavern.

The soldier pulled
back his hand and slapped Anna hard across the face, taking her breath away. 
She had never in all her life been brutalized in such a way.

Rowan stopped
suddenly.  He thought that he had heard his name being called out, a muffled
sound amidst the raucous noise of the tavern. Rowan’s eyes darted over to the
bar and he saw Malcolm sitting all alone.  He dropped his cards in a panic.

 
Anna. 

Rowan’s heart
thundered in his chest.  He sprung from his chair and surveyed the room.  His
eyes scanned the faces in the room, but to his terror, Anna was no where to be
seen.

“Where is she?”
Rowan asked frantically as he ran over to Malcolm.

“She went tae the
privy.  She’s been outside but a moment,” Malcolm said non-chelauntly as he
chewed his bread.

Rowan raced out
the front door of the tavern, desperate to get to Anna.  He knew that something
was wrong.  Heart beating a frantic rhythm in his chest, Rowan ran outside and
into the alley.  “Ye bloody bastard!” he screamed, seeing Anna struggle to
fight off one of the English soldiers.

The man had her
backed against the wall of the tavern and was kissing her neck, groping roughly
at her breasts.  Rowan was blinded with rage. He grabbed the soldier’s uniform
and pulled him off Anna effortlessly, spinning him around.  Drawing back his fist,
Rowan pummeled the soldier in the face, his anger spilling forth at this man that
had dared to touch Anna.

The force of
Rowan’s blow knocked the drunken man down to the ground. He stumbled as he
tried to get up, struggling and then falling to the ground again.  Lifting him
by the coat of his crimson uniform, Rowan pulled the soldier to his feet.

“How dare ye touch
her,” he said through gritted teeth.  Rowan drew back his fist and struck the
soldier again.  A satisfying crack assured Rowan that the soldier’s nose was
broken.  Blood poured from the man’s nose, staining the front of his white collared
shirt red.

“You Scots
bastard!” the soldier yelled, touching his hand to his nose in an effort to
stop the bleeding.  He swung his fist wildly at Rowan, stumbling as he missed
his target.

Rowan waited for
the soldier to right himself and then punched him squarely in the jaw.  The
soldier’s head whipped back from the force of the blow.  He dropped to the
ground, unconscious.

Turning abruptly,
Rowan looked at Anna.  Her hazel eyes were wide with fear.  Having heard the
commotion outside, a few of the English soldiers had stood and were making
their way outside.

“Run!  Get Malcolm
out of here!” Rowan screamed, eyes wild, demanding Anna to take action.

Anna ran back into
the tavern, pushing her way through the growing crowd that was heading outside
to watch the brawl.  She grabbed Malcolm’s hand and pulled him out into the
cool night.  Clasping Malcolm’s hand tightly in hers, they ran out to the barn
to collect the horses.

Malcolm worked
quickly, outfitting the horses with bridles and saddles.  His eyes flashed
towards the barn door and then back to the horses.  Anna had never felt so
helpless.  She had never learned how to properly saddle a horse, let alone put
on a bridle.  Malcolm tightened the cinch strap on the mare and flipped the
reins over her withers.

 “Get up with ye,”
he said, helping Anna up onto the mare.  He thrust the reins into her hands and
then swung up into the saddle of the black horse.  Malcolm kicked the stallion
softly, guiding him out of the stables. 

Anna followed on
the mare, her heart hammering in her ears.  Her knuckles were white as she held
the reins.  “What do we do now?” she asked, her mind reeling at the thought of
Rowan and Quinn embattled in a tavern brawl.  “We can’t just leave them!” she
said pleading with Malcolm to wait, to help somehow.

“Aye, we canna
leave them, but we canna stay here either,” Malcolm said, scanning the dusty
main street of the small town for a safe place to stand watch.

“This is all my
fault…” Anna said voice trembling, eyes forlorn as she watched helplessly as
the brawl intensified outside of the tavern.

“Anna, it’s no yer
fault!”  Malcolm said, seeking to reassure her.  “They’ll be alright.  They ken
how tae fight and most of those soldiers were sae drunk that they may not even
be able tae land a punch.  Bloody English,” he said, shaking his head in
disgust.

Anna swallowed
hard.  She was English.

“We’ll wait over
there,” Malcolm said, pointing to a secluded place across the street from the
tavern.  The shadows would allow them to hide with the horses, and when Rowan
and Quinn escaped the brawl, they would be able to get to them quickly.

Neither Anna nor
Malcolm wanted to voice their fears out loud, so they guided the horses across
the street silently, watching the raging brawl and listening to the muffled
shouts of the men fighting.  Anna noticed that her hands were shaking.

What if Jonathan
Arbor was one of the men in the tavern?

..ooOoo..

Minutes passed
silently, with tension heavy in the air while Malcolm and Anna waited. 
Suddenly, Quinn and then Rowan scrambled out of the fury of the tangled mass of
soldiers, running as if the devil was on their tails.

“Bloody Scots!”
resounded the shouts of the English soldiers as they watched Quinn and Rowan
run down the street.         

Malcolm whistled,
alerting his brothers to their position hidden in the shadows.  Rowan and Quinn
changed course, running to meet them.  Dust kicked up behind their boots as
they sprinted down the street.

“We’ve got tae
go!” screamed Quinn, breathing heavily as he swung up into the saddle behind
Malcolm.  Malcolm kicked the horse in the ribs and they were racing through the
dark night.

Rowan ran up to
Anna, holding his side gingerly.  He swung up into the saddle, landing with a
groan.  He took the reins from her and spurred the horse into motion, breathing
raggedly.  “I think I broke a rib,” Rowan winced from behind Anna, moaning
softly as the jarring of the galloping horse jostled his broken bones.

Anna put her hand
on top of his on the pommel of the saddle.

  “How badly are
you hurt, Rowan?”

“I’ll survive,” he
said.  “It’s my bloody ribs that hurt like hell,” he said, groaning.

“Let’s stop so
that I can wrap it,” Anna said, thinking that she could rip some fabric from
her gown and bind Rowan’s chest so that the jostling of the horse wouldn’t pain
him so much.

“We canna stop, at
least no yet.  They’ll be after us,” Rowan explained, breathing still ragged. 

“Did they know it
was me?” Anna ventured cautiously, hoping that they did not.

“I doona think
so,” Rowan responded.  “They werena Arbor’s men.”

Anna did her best
not to lean back against Rowan, even though her back became stiff with the
effort of holding itself upright.  They rode on for hours without speaking,
staying close to Quinn and Malcolm so that they didn’t become separated in the
dark.

Quinn reined his
horse to a stop.  Following suit, Rowan pulled on the reins, allowing the mare
to slow her breakneck pace.  He patted her on the withers, whispering praises
to the animal in Gaelic.  The horses were lathered, their sides heaving from
carrying the weight of two people.  They had been pushed too hard and Rowan was
regretful.

“I doona think
that they’ll follow us this far tonight.  They were tae drunk.  Let’s stop and
get some rest,” Quinn said tiredly, sliding down from the horse.  He walked
over and helped Anna down from the mare.  She was careful not to bump Rowan as
she dismounted.

“Need a hand, Brother?”
Quinn asked, sensing that Rowan might be hurt worse than he was letting on.

“Aye, I’m not sure
how tae get down without hurtin’ myself further,” Rowan nodded, taking his
brother’s outstretched arm and bracing himself against Quinn’s shoulder as he
slid off the horse.  His face twisted into a painful grimace.  Rowan remained
bent over wincing, breathing heavily right where he had landed on the ground.
“Bloody hell,” Rowan said under his breath as he straightened up painfully.

Malcolm and Anna
led the horses to a clearing that was well off the road, stumbling often in the
dense undergrowth of the forest. The light from the moon was obscured by a
thick cover of clouds, making it nearly impossible to see.

Quinn helped Rowan
navigate through the trees and settled him gently onto a fallen log.  He then
went about the business of starting a small fire, hoping that they were far
enough away from the soldiers so as not to draw their attention.

Anna and Malcolm
joined the older brothers around the fire.  The mood was somber, the silence
deafening.  As the blaze took hold, it shed light on the gravity of the
brother’s injuries.  Being that Quinn was closest to the fire, Anna saw his
face first.

“Oh my God,
Quinn!” she exclaimed, rushing to his side. 

His face was a
myriad of cuts, scrapes and bruises.  His right eye was beginning to swell
closed, a dark purple bruise already marring his skin.

“Believe me, they
got the worst end of the deal,” Quinn smirked, recounting the blows that he had
served up to the English soldiers.  “They got me a few times, but Rowan and I
fight dirty,” he said, glancing in Rowan’s direction.  He was still seated on
the log outside of the circle of light provided by the small fire.  “Plus, we
did get away with this!” Quinn exclaimed, placing a large purse heavy with
coins into Anna’s hand.

“Quinn, this is a
fortune!” she exclaimed, knowing that the purse held more than enough money to
finance their entire trip to Williamsburg.  “At least you will not have to
gamble anymore,” she said, tossing the purse back to Quinn.

“Aye, and it’ll be
safer for us not tae stop in the villages along the way tae Williamsburg.  We
can send Malcolm in for supplies.  It’ll be much less conspicuous that way.”

“Good idea,” Anna
said softly.  She felt guilty that the Murrays were going to such lengths to
get her safely to Williamsburg, but on the other hand, she did not want them to
hand her over to Arbor’s men.  Anna knew that she was safe with the Murrays, and honestly, she was growing to care for all three of them.