Page 42 of Highlander’s Haunted Past

“And then I’ll kill ye. The Queen will forgive me fer not bringing ye in fer a trial.”

“Kenna,” Sutherland whispered, “pick up that candle beside ye.”

“Why?”

“Just—” He pressed the blade to her neck again, and the soft prick deepened into a sharp pain that was followed by a warmth slipping down toward her collarbone. “—do what I ask of ye, lass.”

Kenna, not daring to turn her head and worsen her situation, reached her hand out to her side and let it wave through the air until she felt the subtle heat of a candle flame. She tracked the heat to the source and wrapped her clumsy fingers around the shaft of a thick candle.

“Give it here.” Sutherland hissed, ripping the candle away from her with his spare hand, the moment causing the blade to shift away from her neck, relieving her just a little.

Across the room, Rob stilled once more, his eyes squinting at Sutherland. Kenna could practically see the wheels in his mind spinning as he tried to sort through Sutherland’s plan so he could counter it. She wished he would hurry it up.

The Earl’s breath on her neck was growing more and more frantic. He was starting to gasp and wheeze, a laugh that might have also been a cry. The man was going mad.

“Have ye recovered from the burns the Queen gave ye yet, Kenna? I doubt it. Burns take a while to heal. I never did get any of that ointment back from ye, so I do hope ye held onto it.”

Sutherland dropped the candle to Kenna’s side, pressing the flickering flame against the fabric of her skirt. Kenna felt a scream building in her throat as her hands began to flail. She knocked the candle away, but the flame had worked quicker than her hands. She felt the heat growing against her hip and, suddenly, a sharp push forward.

As she fell, Rob lunged for her and caught her in his arms. Gallant, perhaps, but he dropped her just as quickly as he had caught her before starting to ferociously beat at the flames on her skirt.

Lockhart lunged toward them, Sutherland’s pitcher in hand, and threw water over them both. The aim was terrible, drenching her face more than her skirt, but it was just enough to put out the last of the flames.

Rob jumped to his feet without ceremony and chased after Sutherland, leaving Lockhart to pull Kenna to her feet.

“Are ye all right?” he asked while he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it against the small wound on her neck.

“Aye,” Kenna replied, feeling a bit uncomfortable.

She had never thought him to be capable of kindness.

“Stay here. I’ll go sound the alarm!” Lockhart cried, rushing from the room with an almost giddy expression.

While Lockhart went out the front, Kenna turned and went toward the back, following a trail of overthrown furniture and broken china until, at last, she went through an open door and out into the night. Rob was ahead of her, closing the gap between himself and the stable, a stable that Sutherland was already coming out of, mounted on the back of a massive black steed.

The horse reared as Rob jumped in front of it, a dangerous flurry of hooves flying through the air. Rob leaped to the side, stretching out his arm to try and grab the reins of Sutherland’s horse, but Sutherland was holding them close to his chest. The horse landed, while Rob skidded across the ground, then took off at full gallop before Rob could get back to his feet.

“Rob!” Kenna rushed forward, her heart pounding. Could one of the hooves have caught him?

“There was only one horse in the stable. Damn it to hell!” Rob shouted as he recovered his footing. “Stay here!”

Rob sprinted after Sutherland as if his legs were faster than those of a galloping horse.

“I guess ye’re okay…” Kenna said aloud, though there was no one there to hear.

The yard was so quiet that Kenna could have heard a mouse rustling through the grass, but even they had stayed confined in their beds. She pulled the handkerchief away from her throat and traced a finger along the wound. It was shallow, barely painful at all. It didn’t even seem to be bleeding anymore.

Thank God. It shouldn’t even scar.

She had already been marked enough in the past few weeks.

It didn’t take long for a renewed commotion of shouts and galloping hooves to echo through the streets, some coming closer to her while others continued on past. Kenna thought about going inside to greet the Queen’s men as they descended but thought better of it. She did not want to be anywhere near the half-written letters when they were found.

Kenna heard dozens of voices coming from the house, each shouting and making muffled exclamations, by the time that Rob returned. His feet dragged as he entered the rear yard, his hands pressed to his hips as he panted.

“Gone?” Kenna asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Gone,” Rob confirmed, coming closer and collapsing into her waiting arms. His body was hot and slick with sweat, but Kenna held him close all the same, grateful that he seemed otherwise unharmed. “I was too tired; I couldna catch up with him.”