Chapter 5
The area around him came into sharp focus as Keegan woke. It took a moment to recall that he was staying in an inn, and just as his mind came more into focus, Laird Brahanne realized that a pleasant warmth seeped into his side where a body was plastered to him.
A slight chuckle escaped him as he remembered that Magnus’s sister lay with him in the bed.
She had to have been quite cold for her to seek out his body for warmth, and it was impossible to keep the smile from his face at that.
Adjusting slowly so as not to wake her, Keegan turned onto his back, lifting his arm up over her head and setting it on the pillow beneath them.
Ye shouldnae be so close, lass. In bed with yer enemy laird. What would yer brother think?
Too many thoughts of too many different things swirled in his mind, and as he grew more and more awake, Keegan noted that he still could not see in the room.
It was entirely dark, which meant that it was not yet morning.
He needed to get back to sleep. The two of them did have quite a bit of riding ahead of them—he hadn’t misled her about that, at least, remaining vague about his true name and title as he was—and Keegan knew slumber was the only way to be at his best for the morrow.
And if the laird were going to use this mistaken identity to his advantage, Keegan would need his wits about him at all times.
It was still a bit of a shock that Willow hadn’t realized that he was Keegan Aragain.
Though, he could imagine that her brother never spoke about him as anything but “Laird Brahanne.”
Closing his eyes, Keegan set himself to sleeping again, but still, he lay there utterly awake.
Ahh!
A noise outside the room cut through the quiet, and Keegan’s eyes flashed open. A shout? What that perhaps what had awoken him in the first place? What was going on outside their chamber?
“Willow!”
The repeated call made Keegan’s stomach tighten, his guts filling with lead. Someone was shouting for his prisoner, and that would not do. He was getting his sister Melissa back home safely, and this woman was the linchpin in that plan.
Nay. I cannae let me sister remain in that bastard’s cruel custody any longer.
“Was that…” Willow’s voice assured Keegan that she had woken up, and he grumbled under his breath, getting out of the bed and reaching for the sword he had kept just beside him on the floor.
“Willow!”
Her eyes flared wide as Keegan looked at her, and he could see the recognition in her eyes. The laird, too, remembered the tone of that particular voice. One of her guards had woken and followed after them. He’d be impressed if he weren’t so irritated. They did not have time for this.
The most important thing to him was to free Melissa. Magnus had already taken enough from his family, and he wasn’t about to let the man take more because his sister was a much of a problem as he was.
“Ye will get yerself ready to leave, lass. I’ll deal with our little visitor.”
Willow’s skin paled, and after a moment of frozen shock—her mouth dropping into a small O—she scrambled out of the bed toward Keegan. Yanking on his arm, she stopped him from opening the door, and he turned back toward her with a glare.
“Please,” she pleaded, her brows knitted together as she shook her head, “ye cannae harm him. Please. Ye promised me ye wouldnae hurt me men. He is only doing his duty. Please.”
Keegan paused, and he did not understand why.
There was a true threat to his plan and to Melissa’s safety just outside that door.
He should be surging into action, regardless of the pleas his prisoner might offer up.
After all, he put his family ahead of everything else in his life.
There was nothing that mattered to him more, and Keegan was more than happy to sacrifice his own chance at connections if it meant keeping a watchful eye on them.
And still, he could not move.
“Keegan,” her voice was daggers to his spine, the entreating tone knifing through his heart, “we can leave. I will go with ye. Please, just let us escape out the back.”
He recoiled backward, his hand still on his sword. Keegan had never run from or in any way avoided a fight in his life—not since that fateful day when he was a child. This went against everything he believed, and Keegan’s mouth dropped open before he quickly shut it again, grinding his teeth.
Just tell the lass to get moving while you end that McCallum bastard.
He remained motionless, unable to get the words out of his mouth. Why was it so difficult for him to deny her? What had Willow done that made Keegan unable to carry through with the most obvious course of action?
For several long moments, they just stared at each other, Willow’s fingers gripping the fabric of his sleeve tightly.
She cared for this person who’d come looking for her.
It wasn’t simply a matter of protecting her men where she could, honorable as that was.
This particular guard meant something to her, and she would be distraught over his loss.
“Get dressed, lass, and do it quick if ye wish to sneak out of here unseen.”
Relief washed over her, and Willow leaped into action, gathering herself and making ready to leave the inn in a hurry. Keegan retrieved the few items he’d left near the bed when he thought he would just end this threat and get back to rest.
When Willow was collected, Keegan gently opened the door to their room, checking the hall for any sign of their pursuer. With the coast clear, he pulled her along behind him and sought out the rear stairs at the back of the building so that they could avoid the main entrance.
They ghosted quickly over the floor as they almost ran to the servants’ staircase. As Keegan got Willow in front of him to run down, the floorboard creaked loudly.
Moments later, a figure appeared from around the corner, and it confirmed Keegan’s suspicions. It was the man that Willow had called Finley, and the older gentleman rushed forward toward them.
“Stop!”
Willow turned on instinct. When she saw Finley, her eyes went wide before she glanced up at Keegan.
“Go!” He glared down at her. “If ye wish to keep yer man safe, ye best get running.”
A glassy sheen coated her eyes, but Willow tore down the steps as quickly as she could.
She was on the grassy land at the back of the building when Keegan heard the pound of her guard’s steps on the wood behind him.
The tenacity of the man was admirable, but Keegan’s own blood hung on the line. He needed Willow to protect Melissa.
Pausing to wait for him, Willow watched with horrified attention, and Keegan forced his body to move quicker. Just as he hit the ground, however, Finley shoved into him, clearly having leaped down the stairs.
They were both flung off the wooden steps, tumbling down to the ground in a tangled mess of limbs. The scuffle took Keegan to his back, and he held Finley at bay as he slashed at him with a short dirk.
“Finley, stop!”
But despite Willow’s cries, the man did not listen.
Keegan was forced to kick his knee up into the man’s gut, tossing him over his head so that the laird could get back to his feet.
Spinning around, Keegan faced off with Finley once more as he recovered from the fall.
The guard rushes him with his blade aimed at Keegan’s middle.
Just in time, Keegan ducked out of the way, smashing his elbow into the back of Finley’s skull as he passed by. Finley fell to the ground, and Keegan pulled his sword from its sheathe at his hip. He raised it over his head, ready to end the guard and save himself future trouble.
“No!” cried Willow, rushing across the grass toward them. “Ye promised me ye’d do them no harm. I will come with ye once more. Just leave him here.”
In the stretch of time that seemed to pull wider than possible, Keegan looked between Willow and Finley. The man was dazed, but he looked up at the laird, starting to get to his feet.
Filling his sword around in his hand, which sent a sharp inhale through Willow, Keegan brought the pommel of his sword down on Finley’s head forcefully, ensuring the man was unconscious once more. The man went down, and Keegan returned his sword to his scabbard.
A tiny whimper escaped Willow, and he eyed her briefly before crouching down near Finley and going through his things.
He took the dirk and anything else that the man might use as a weapon.
His gold was the last thing that Keegan took from the man, and then he stood up, walking past Willow toward the stables.
“Why did ye take his gold? Ye are clearly in no need of it?”
Keegan turned back over his shoulder. Willow glared at him as she hurried along behind him. Yanking his plaid straight, Keegan pressed forward to retrieve his horse, calling out so that his little guest would hear him.
“I willnae be followed again. With nae a coin in sight, yer man cannae use it to get information regardin' our whereabouts.”
Willow was silent after that, and when they arrived at the stable, Keegan tipped the night stable hand with Finley’s money to retrieve his horse. It was clear the lass didn’t appreciate that, and Keegan smirked with one corner of his mouth.
As the horse was pulled in front of him, Keegan gestured for Willow to get on. She didn’t move.
“Get. On. The. Horse.”
Sneering, Willow put a hand on her hip. “Did ye have to be so—”
He didn’t have time for her words, so Keegan manhandled the woman up onto his steed, not caring that she faced the wrong direction. Her arse could deal with the discomfort.
Without another word, Keegan stepped up into the stirrup, hoisting his leg up and over the horse to take his place in the saddle. Willow sat facing him, but he didn’t regard her, only brandishing the reins to send his horse off at a gallop.