Chapter 16
Kenna woke the next morning to a body that ached, not from abuse or fists, but from good, honest use.
Or relatively honest, she supposed. She wondered if anyone before her had ever been so pleased to become an adulteress.
Because she could not seem to have even the barest moment of good luck, this glimmer of giddiness only lasted until Anna’s face appeared above Kenna’s bed, her expression creased with worry.
“Ashbourne?” she asked, pleased that she felt weary rather than afraid.
She didn’t think her husband had any reason to suspect what she’d done the day before, but if he did, it would make her previous existence look delightful compared to the misery he would cook up for her.
She would be lucky if he didn’t lock her in her room except for when he demanded her presence.
But Anna shook her head, though her concerned expression didn’t waver.
“From… that young guard,” she said carefully. “Arran.”
Kenna sat up so quickly that her head spun.
“What did he want?” she asked.
Anna’s hand went to the pocket of her pinafore, but before she removed it, she hesitated.
“My lady… are you certain that you know what you’re doing?” she asked carefully.
“Of course,” Kenna said impatiently, though she did not at all know if that was true. She held out her hand. “Please give it here, Anna.”
With clear reluctance, her maid produced a note with only a few words.
Abandoned room. As soon as possible.
It was, like all the notes they’d exchanged, terse and devoid of any details that could identify them if their missives fell into the wrong hands. But Arran had underlined the word soon three times, denoting his urgency.
“I need to dress,” she told Anna, worry overtaking her. She didn’t think Arran would risk summoning her in daylight if it wasn’t something important.
Anna complied with the command, though the wary expression didn’t deviate as she quickly laced Kenna into one of her Scottish-style gowns.
Ashbourne wouldn’t be pleased to see her wearing it, but when was he ever pleased?
Getting to choose for herself was worth risking a few of his ill-tempered blows.
When she found Arran in the room where they had met before, he was pacing restlessly back and forth. The moment he saw her, he rushed to her side and wrapped her in his arms in evident relief.
“Ye are all right,” he murmured before pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank the Lord.”
This was a very nice way to be greeted, but Kenna pulled back from his grasp anyway.
“What’s wrong?” she demanded. She’d seen Arran angry, confident, annoyed, and uncertain—but never like this. He looked frightened.
He sighed. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell ye this, lass,” he said. “But your father… he is trying to kill ye.”
He looked deadly serious, but the very idea was so preposterous that Kenna couldn’t hold back her incredulous smile.
“Arran,” she said soothingly. “I dinnae think my father holds any affection for me. But he isnae trying to kill me. There isnae any point. He sold me to Ashbourne, so killing me would only make him owe my husband a new debt.”
But Arran didn’t look reassured. “I heard them,” he said.
“Ashbourne and your father, they ken something about the explosions that went off ten years ago. I think they planned it, or at least planned something to do with Lennox. Ashbourne wants an heir for his silence, and since ye havenae fallen pregnant…”
That latter part had the smack of truth, but…
“Nay,” she said. “Nay, I cannae believe that he would…”
But maybe she could. She grasped for the part that made the least sense, if only because she didn’t want it to seem possible.
“But what would any of that have to do with the Lennoxes?” she asked. “There was an explosion in our clan, too. Nay,” she said. “Nay. It isnae possible. Ye cannae ken how close our families were, how they worked together for generations—”
“I can,” he interrupted. His eyes closed briefly, and when he opened them again, the amber gleam in them was brighter than ever. “Because my true name isnae Arran Burns. It’s Arran Lennox.”
For a moment, she felt like the world stopped. When it started again, everything was disappointment and betrayal.
She stepped back, pulling herself out of his grasp.
“Nay,” she said. “Is this… Why are ye doing this? It isnae funny, Arran. If ye wanted to be done with me after we—” She broke off. “All ye had to do was say so.”
God, this was what she got for asking for something for herself. For being stupid enough to trust him, to trust anyone.
He took a step forward. The only reason she hadn’t already fled was that he was blocking the door. His hand was very gentle as he raised it to her shoulder as though she might spook.
“It’s nae lie, Kenna,” he said slowly. “And it isnae a jest. That night… I wasnae at home. I was at the fire festival in yer clan. I was there when the explosion went off. But I lived. I lived, and I hid, and I’ve been hiding ever since. Ye are the first person I’ve told in over a decade.”
His gaze burned with sincerity—and then she realized.
Amber eyes.
That was why he’d seemed so familiar from the start. That was why she kept being drawn back to the golden gaze.
Those were Lennox eyes.
“Ye are the Lennox boy,” she said, awestruck. “Ye are… alive.”
“Aye,” he agreed. His expression was still somber, but his shoulders looked as though a weight had been taken off them.
She drew in a shaky breath. Because if this part was true…
“And my father is trying to kill me,” she breathed.
He nodded.
Kenna felt like there was a scream building inside her chest, but she shoved it down.
“Ye are only telling me the truth because of the risk, then?” she asked. She felt… bitter about that. Angry. Betrayed.
He opened his mouth in apparent denial, but then he hesitated.
“Aye,” he agreed. “I am sorry. I dinnae ken that I would have told ye if there wasnae the risk, at least not right away.”
She turned her face away, wanting to hide how that honesty stung, even if it was preferable to lies.
He touched under her chin and guided her gaze back to his.
“But not because of ye, leannan,” he said softly, the endearment a caress.
“I thought ye were my enemy at first, but I dinnae believe that any longer. I need ye to know that. The only reason I would have still kept my secrets is because…” He shrugged his shoulders like he was physically shaking something off.
“Have ye ever clung to a secret so long that it feels like it has become part of ye?”
Yes. She had. She’d never spoken to anyone about Ashbourne’s mistreatment. She’d hated when Arran had figured it out for himself. So perhaps she could not blame him for hiding his own truths from her.
Suddenly, it all felt so heavy that the only reason she didn’t slip directly to the floor was Arran’s hold upon her.
“Aye. God, yes, aye, of course I ken how that feels. I just…” Her laugh sounded like the crackle of broken glass under a booted foot. “I guess I always knew that I was utterly replaceable. That I dinnae really matter to anyone.”
“Kenna.” His hold slid down to her hands, and he gripped them tight.
“Makenna. Listen. Ye are not replaceable—not to me. Lord, lass. For so long, I trusted nobody. And then ye burst into my life and… We are so alike, Kenna, do ye nae see that? We have both been so trapped, ye by these bastards who only see ye as a pawn to grow their own power, me by my—” His breath caught for a moment, but he persevered.
“By my desire to avenge my family. And I willnae let their memories go away without a fight. But I understand now that there is a choice. And today, I choose ye.”
She looked up at him, blinking back sudden dampness in her eyes. There was no doubt on his face.
“For today,” he told her softly, “we are going to survive, aye?”
Survive. Yes. She knew how to do that. It had been her watchword these past three years.
“What do we need to do?” she asked, her voice scarcely above a whisper.
“Ye need to pack a bag,” he said. “Take only what ye cannae live without. I will see to food, horses. As soon as night falls, we go.”
“Go?” she echoed. “Go where?”
“I dinnae ken just yet,” he admitted. “But I willnae fail ye, Kenna. I swear it.”
She nibbled anxiously at her lip.
“But won’t Ashbourne or my father come after us?” she fretted.
“Aye,” he said solemnly. “I reckon they will. We will be smarter, faster.”
“And it puts my sisters at risk,” she went on.
“Aye. But, Kenna, ye cannae protect your sisters if ye are dead. We will figure out how to protect them. Ye have my word.”
And that was the long and short of it, she supposed. She could choose to trust him or not.
It had been so long since she’d trusted someone.
But she found that she did trust Arran. Even though he’d lied.
Even though he hadn’t wanted to tell the truth.
Because he was right, in the end. They were alike.
And the only way to get out of this mess was to start putting one foot in front of the other.
“Very well,” she said. “I trust ye.”
The relief on his face was as forceful as a slap.
He pulled her in for a swift, fierce kiss.
“Go,” he urged. “Pack. And tonight, we’ll leave.”
Kenna returned to her rooms but paused when she passed Ashbourne’s door.
Perhaps she had to flee. But she wouldn’t be going empty-handed.