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

by Stone, Jenna

  Anna slipped down from the horse and watched as the brothers handed the reins of their horses over to the stable lad. The horses obediently ambled after him towards the barn, ears pricked up in hopes of being fed.

  Quinn dug in his pocket and tossed a coin to Malcolm.

  “We doona have verra much left. Why don’t ye get something for Anna tae eat?” Quinn asked suggestively, winking at his youngest brother.

  Malcolm took Anna’s hand and tucked it into the fold of his elbow, leading her through the door and into the tavern. “What he really means is that I should watch ye so that neither of us get…” Malcolm trailed off, freezing in his tracks as he stepped into the tavern.

  Anna felt Malcolm’s arm tense beneath her hand and immediately, she knew that something was very wrong.

  Malcolm glanced frantically over his shoulder at Rowan, who shook his head slowly from side-to-side and motioned for Malcolm to take Anna over to an open table.

  “What’s amiss?” Anna asked, concern thick in her voice as she scanned the tavern. There were groups of men gathered around card tables and a group of fiddlers playing music in the farthest corner. A few couples were dancing and singing to the music. She noticed a man with his head down on the table, having overindulged in his drink. It looked just like any other tavern that she had been in.

  “Nothing’s wrong,” Malcolm said with mock assurance. “What would ye like tae eat?”

  “What’s wrong, Malcolm?” Anna prodded, this time more insistently. Malcolm was a lousy liar and Anna could readily identify that something was troubling the Murray brothers.

  Malcolm exhaled slowly, accepting his defeat. “This place is filled tae the brim with the King’s soldiers. English soldiers,” he explained, eyes darting nervously around the tavern. “Some of them may be the men that happened upon us last night. We canna leave now without drawing suspicion, so we’ll need tae be verra careful.”

  Anna knew that the Murrays had every reason in the world to be wary of English soldiers. Her situation with Jonathan further complicated things.

  “Oh,” Anna said, now realizing why the brothers had hesitated when they entered the room. “Let’s go then,” she whispered tersely, eyes scanning the room cautiously. She had heard the men’s voices last night, but had not seen their faces. There was no way that she could recognize them.

  “We canna leave now. It’d draw attention tae us. Most of these men are drunk, sae keep yer head down and pray that they’ve no heard of Arbor’s reward. If anyone asks, claim tae be my sister.”

  “Alright,” Anna whispered, bringing her eyes back to Malcolm. Her pulse raced in her veins. Anna was not a practiced liar and it was difficult to remain composed and collected.

  “I hope they hurry so that we can get out of here,” Malcolm said, voice cracking as he tried to hide the fact that he was scared. His eyes scanned the crowd and watched his brothers hopefully. They were excellent gamblers, even when they didn’t cheat. “I’d rather sleep in the forest again.”

  “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.

  “Will you tend tae him?” Quinn whispered very quietly into Anna’s ear so that Rowan wouldn’t hear. “I’m afraid that he’s hurt worse than he’s lettin’ on. He’s got tae much pride tae let me take a look at it.”

  Anna nodded to Quinn and patted his knee as she stood.

  Anna’s heart sank as she walked silently over to where Rowan was sitting on the log. “How badly are you hurt, Rowan?” she whispered, crouching down in front of him.

  “It’s nothing that willna heal, but my ribs hurt something fierce,” Rowan confessed, still doubled over with pain, cradling his right side.

  “How did they get broken?” Anna asked quietly, needing to know so that she could fully sympathize with what Rowan had endured on her behalf.

  “With a chair. One of the bastards broke a chair against my side.”

  “Oh Rowan, this is all my fault. I’m so sorry,” Anna stammered as she saw how badly Rowan was hurting. She wanted to touch him but was afraid to. He was in too much pain.

  “Yer fault? It’s not yer fault. It was his fault for touchin’ ye! I wanted tae kill that bastard!” Rowan said, his eyes lit with rage.

  Anna swallowed hard, not sure of what to say. Despite Rowan’s denial of this being her fault, she knew deep down that it would not have happened had she not been traveling with the Murray brothers. They would be far better off without her.

  “May I take a look?” Anna asked cautiously, afraid that Rowan would rather nurse his wounds in private. “You’ll need to come closer to the fire so that I can see,” she coaxed, reaching down to take Rowan’s hand.

  “If it makes ye feel better. There’s no much that ye can do tae help broken ribs,” Rowan said, knowing that he would get little relief from his pain.