Chapter 12 #2
When an indifferent guard handed her a small bowl of gruel and a roll of stale bread for her dinner, she tracked every second of the interaction carefully.
She had hoped that there would be some means of fleeing during that small moment, but none came.
Three more guards were positioned at the entrance of the dungeons, and that said nothing of the key she would have to steal.
For all of her hard-earned strength, she was no match for a handful of trained warriors and the iron bars on her door.
It was at that moment she realized the truth of that, that she fell well and truly into the deepest depths of her despair.
For the first time in years, Laura allowed herself to cry, weeping for the days and moments, the memories and life the Baron had stolen from her.
She grieved the little freedom she had lost for no reason other than her birthplace.
Even more so, she grieved the glimpse of happiness she had caught from time to time with Brandon.
The thought of him made her tears fall faster. And in the hours that followed, she longed for death to claim her. She hoped the cold or the starvation would end her days before the Baron could come up with any creative means of hurting her.
Night settled into the dungeon, making the already frosty and dank air grow even more oppressive.
She tucked her hands under her legs and watched as her breath moved in front of her face.
The only mercy she had been granted was that they had placed her in the cleanest cell with the nicest bed.
There were still mites and rats and any number of pests roaming the prison, but at least her cot held no remnants of death.
At the door, the guard snored loudly, the sound of his deep slumber echoing off the dripping stone walls.
She could only wish for sleep to claim her so completely.
With nothing left to do, Laura wiped the bowl clean, knowing it was all she was going to get for the foreseeable future, and laid down.
It surprised her how quickly sleep claimed her, ushering her into a welcomed darkness.
She dreamed of nothing, her body too weary and cold to do so.
A hand, warm and hard-pressed against her mouth, wrenching her from sleep so abruptly that she was half convinced she was dreaming.
Her eyes blinked furiously, batting away tears as she tried to adjust to the complete blackness of the room.
Slowly, with her heart pounding in her ears, she remembered the cot under her, her half-numb fingers curled around her assailants arm, rats ran by.
The dungeon. She was still in the cell. Putting it all back together came haltingly and then all at once.
Fear, hot and slimy poured into her veins, waiting to discover her attacker’s identity and purpose.
“Laura.”
The warm breath on her cheek came with a wave of relief.
“I am sorry if I startled you. I could not risk you making any noise and waking the guards. Can I take my hand off now?”
She nodded against his palm but didn’t release her grasp on him. His closeness was an anchor she desperately needed.
“Brandon,” she sighed, “what are ye doing here? Ye are going to get yerself in grave trouble.”
“Come on,” he urged. “We don’t have much time.”
“Much time for what? I still dinnae understand what ye are doing here?”
“I am getting you out of here.”
He spoke with a determination she had never heard from him before. Before she could fully understand his meaning, he had her sitting on the cot and was tugging a thick, warm cloak over her shoulders.
“Put these on,” he insisted, reaching for her feet.
She was too shocked to protest as he pulled the thin slippers from her feet and slid on a pair of wool stockings and her boots.
“How did ye—” she started to ask, before realizing that how he had managed to get her boots and stockings was the least surprising thing he had done tonight.
“I told you,” Brandon answered, pulling her gently to her feet. “I mean to see you get free of this place. I have stood idly by and watched that monster mistreat you for far too long. I will not stand by again and watch you waste your life away in this cell, waiting for him to remember you.”
“But Brandon, how do ye think to get me out of here unseen? There are guards at the door and I have nowhere to go.”
It didn’t register in her mind that for Brandon to even have the cell door unlocked, the guards must have already been dealt with.
“Laura,” Brandon said, a little exasperated with her confusion/ “I swear I will explain it all. But we must make haste. The dawn is not far off, and I want to give you every second I can to put as much distance between this place and you as possible.”
She stood in a mixture of awe and amazement as Brandon bent to form a figure in the cot that looked eerily similar to her own form.
He pulled the threadbare blanket up to cover it completely and then turned to guide her out of the cell.
They passed the guards, each lost in so deep a sleep that they did not move when Brandon hung the keys back on the hook or when the door to the dungeon creaked open to let them out.
The couple clung to the shadows, her hand held firmly in his, offering comfort and assurance that she could not summon for herself. Brandon went first at every turn, peering around corners and signaling her to move only when he was sure they wouldn’t be spotted.
The door to the yard and the stables beyond was in sight when Brandon spun on his heel and pressed Laura against the wall.
He muffled her sound of surprise with his lips pressed firmly against hers.
One hand threaded into her hair while the other clutched her hip, pulling her closer to him.
He had never taken such liberties before, but she supposed the impending sense of danger was enough to spur him to action.
Laura lost herself in him, letting her hands clutch the front of his shirt before moving to his back, gripping his hair just as firmly. For that brief moment, she allowed herself to forget the danger she was in, to forget the awful things happening. For a time, there was only him.
It wasn’t until she heard a scuffle of boots pound past them that she realized Brandon’s purpose in his actions.
“Get a room,” the voice called, a barb that brought such a flush to Laura’s face that she was entirely grateful to the darkness that concealed it.
Her hands froze, as did her lips. Brandon pulled back ever so slightly, saying nothing, doing nothing until the footsteps could no longer be heard. His hands stayed on her, holding her steady, forcing her to keep still no matter how much she wanted to flee.
“Sorry,” he whispered in her ear. “I saw him coming and could not think of any other way to go unnoticed.”
She could only nod.
Offering nothing more, Brandon clasped her hand in his once more, and they all but ran into the cold open air of the night. Her chest sucked in the bracing spring air. It had yet to give way to the summer that was mere weeks away, and tonight, she found herself thankful for the cold.
There was only one lantern lit in the stables, tucked in the very back corner.
“I gave the other hands the night off,” Brandon explained, “so we will not be caught here. Still, we must not waste a moment if you are to get away to safety.”
Following him still, she walked into the illuminated stall.
There, waiting for her, was an already saddled stallion, the brown of his hair so dark it was nearly black.
On his back was a thick bedroll strapped down and a matte leather seat, the stirrups adjusted to her slight stature.
Both saddlebags looked full, pushing out on their seams. From the looks of things, Brandon had thought of everything. His explanation confirmed that.
“I packed your favorite dress and all the stockings I could find. There is food that will last you a week, though you should not be riding for more than three days. One of the maids helped me collect all your best herbs and bandages and anything else we could think you might need. Here,” he said reaching for the front of the saddle, “is a dagger long and sharp enough to protect you. I recall you telling me your brother once taught you how to use a bow and arrow, so I’ve included those too. ”
He stepped forward and circled her waist with his hands, ready to lift her onto the horse’s back.
“Wait,” she breathed. “I cannae do this. Nae alone. He will find me. He will kill me.”
Brandon shook his head, a hand brushing her hair out of her face.
“He will not. I will make sure of it. Now, take these to Kincaid Castle. Ride north of here. Just over the border, you will come upon a river. Follow it north, taking the western route any chance it is offered. Stay by the water, do not ride on the road.”
As he listed off the instructions, he placed a package of papers, wrapped in string into her hands.
“What is this?” she asked, unsure why Brandon had addressed anything to Laird Kincaid.
“The letters for the Lairds.”
“Why? What is in them?”
He smiled a bittersweet smile at her.
“Enough to turn the tide on this blasted ordeal.”
She nodded slowly, her heart and mind still trying to catch up to all that was happening.
“Come with me,” she begged when his hands went to lift her into the saddle once more. “We can escape together. Ye can put the letters in the Laird’s hands yerself.”
Without giving her the chance to put him off again, Brandon hoisted her into the saddle with ease. He set about checking the straps and securing her boots in the stirrups. Then he shifted the cloak on her shoulders, smoothing it to cover as much of her frame as possible.
“I cannot go with you, Laura,” he said at last. “If you are going to have any chance at all of escaping with your life, I cannot go. I must stay here and keep the guards distracted. The longer it takes for them to realize you are missing, the longer you have to ride.”
She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head, cutting her off.
“Thunder, here, is my best runner. He will fly through these woods, especially with such a small rider like you on his back. You need only to trust him to do so. He will get you to Kincaid quickly. Keep your head down and walk slowly until you pass the last of the tenant houses. And then, as soon as you are in the clear, let him fly.”
“Surely ye can come too, Brandon. Surely, this is nae—”
“It has to be this way, Laura. If your people are going to have the smallest hope of fending off Dudley, you have to go and you have to go now. I will do all I can to see that you get out of here alive. You must be brave enough to do the rest.” He stopped only when he saw the tears gathering in her eyes. “You can do this. I know you can.”
She leaned over the side of the horse and brushed a hand against his cheek, committing every detail of his handsome face to memory. She knew only too well that there would be no guarantees for them now that he had betrayed his master.
“Thank ye,” she whispered, unable to say anything else.
Words stuck in Brandon’s throat, forcing him only to nod and place a light kiss on her knuckles.
He pulled away, stepping just out of her reach and led the horse out of the stables.
Sliding the door open to the night, Brandon let go of the reins as she gathered them in her hands.
Hastily, he pulled his gloves from his belt and thrust them up at her.
“Here,” he said briskly. “You will need these. Now go.”
She tugged them on, savoring the warmth he had left in them.
The sound of Brandon’s palm against Thunder’s flank was the only warning she got before the horse galloped into the yard.
Keeping a firm grip on the reins, setting a steady, nondescript pace for the beast, she turned to look over her shoulder.
Brandon waved only once as a cascade of her tears streamed down her face.
She rode into the night, as if her life depended on it, as if the life of those she loved depended on it—because it did.