Her hand clenched into a fist over the golden wolf as she shivered violently. The hair on her arms and the back of her neck stood on end, and there was a rush of warmth between her legs. The reaction was completely involuntary, a small but earth-shattering flashback to the edge that she’d fallen over with his mouth pressed against hers.
When she finally recovered from the memory, she brought her hand away from the painting and straightened her back. Softly, she said, “This is such a lovely piece of art. He shouldnae have had it hidden away.” She shuffled over to the nightstand, opening it and producing a few pieces of parchment that she’d stashed there. She glanced back at the painting, looking directly at the white doe. “Ye wouldnae find a good home if ye were to come with me, though I long to give ye one.”
With that, she knelt there, using the surface of the bedside table and a quill from beneath her pillow to write a short note. Even though she’d rehearsed what she’d write over and over again, the words still didn’t come easily. It took precious minutes off of her escape time, but she managed to jot down a small message explaining everything she could with the little time she had left.
I kent I said I was goin’ to stay, but what other choice do I have?
She placed the note next to the painting with gentle reverence. Then, she pocketed the extra pieces of parchment, the quill, and the ink. It wasn’t as if she’d be able to write to anyone, but something about having the option felt comforting.
After grabbing a few coins that she’d tucked away, Amelia left her chambers for the last time. Her chest felt heavy as she hurried away without a second look, but she didn’t have time to stand around and reminisce. Maybe one day she’d be able to look back at the time she spent here fondly. That was so far away that it wasn’t even worth thinking about.
She took the back way, a route that Isla had shown her just a few days before, to get out of the castle. From the service door to the stables, there wasn’t a single person. It seemed that the staff in this part of the keep was taking advantage of the short time they’d have before they spent the rest of their evening attending to tired horses.
“Just as I thought,” she whispered to herself as she crept into the stables, pausing to listen for signs of grooms still inside. “They must be eatin’ or enjoyin’ the sunshine.”
There weren’t many horses left. Most of them were out, carrying participants of the hunt. The horse that she’d ridden when she went out with Darragh was still there, her hooves shuffling against the ground impatiently.
“I’d love to take ye,” she said to the animal, walking toward her and offering her palm. “But ye mean too much to Darragh. Yewill stay. And perhaps try to convince him to really read me note, aye?”
She let out a warm breath against Amelia’s hand, nuzzling against her for a moment. Then, almost as if she understood that Amelia was running out of time, she pulled back. As Amelia walked to a mare in an adjacent stall, the first made a disgruntled noise.
“I ken,” Amelia said as she prepared the other mare to leave, feeling truly apologetic. “Ye’re better off here, though.” She looked at the other animal. “I willnae treat ye poorly. I can promise ye that.”
Talking to the animals seemed to calm her nerves a bit. It wasn’t enough to stop her hands from shaking as she tightened the straps of the saddle and tucked the few things that she’d brought along with her into the saddlebag. She was thankful that the mare she’d chosen was so steadfast. It was a relief to feel something living and breathing andsurebeneath her.
Expertly, she urged the horse forward, her heels pressing into her sides. Just as she had planned before, she pushed the two of them toward the supply entrance at the rear of the keep. Thanks to the time she’d spent helping around the keep, she knew that there wouldn’t be any deliveries, nor anyone standing by for days.
Scanning the walls, she ensured that none of the guards were making their rounds. It had been the only piece of information she’d failed to get her hands on. At worst, she’d wait for thewatch to pass, but somehow, she’d managed to arrive during a gap in the schedule.
“It’s a sign,” she whispered to the mare, increasing their pace slightly. “The fact that there’s nae resistance means that leavin’ is the choice that’s goin’ to save me hide.”
As the two of them crossed through the gates, passing by an unused supply wagon, Amelia brought the mare to a stop. She looked over her shoulder, giving herself one last moment to memorize the keep. She could still feel the warmth of the kitchens, hear everyone’s laughter at Isla’s deadpan delivery, and most magnetic of all was the phantom sound of Darragh’s voice.
For a heartbeat, she almost turned back.
Just before she did, the sensation of her father’s icy gaze slammed into her again. Even though he wasn’t here, the memory of it was just as strong as the real thing. If she stayed there, he’d follow her the way an angry wasp would. Cornered in the castle, there was nothing she could do.
“We’ll be off now,” Amelia whispered to the mare, turning her back on the keep, the finality of it making her bones ache. As they rode off, she felt more and more unsettled. In a desperate attempt to keep herself from losing her mind, she said to the mare, “I think ye and I will be good friends. I’m nae always so frazzled. I’m just out of practice, is all. I’m capable, and I can tell ye are too.”
As true as the words felt, there was a cold weight against the back of her neck. She resisted the urge to rub it, fearing that touching the place would give it power. It was nothing more than paranoia.
* * *
Alistair Mackenzie raised a capable daughter. It was how he knew she’d still be alive. It was how he knew she’d survive being sold to take care of his debts.
But raising a competent child came with significant drawbacks when they disobeyed.
Like now, for example, his ungrateful, uncooperative daughter was riding off on a mare that most certainly didn’t belong to her. He caught sight of her disappearing just beyond the gates, a flash of a dappled gray horse and her long brown hair darting forward. He should have known that she’d pull something sneaky.
Or perhaps he’d been hoping she was still too weak to fight. Only time would tell if the time she’d spent away would work in his favor.
He cursed under his breath, urging his own horse forward though he’d lost sight of her figure. She’d always been good at running away and hiding. This was no different. And she was sure to make it difficult for him.
“She kens I willnae stop,” he whispered to his stallion. “But I suppose I dinnae raise her to roll over and show her belly.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
The triumphant horns echoed across the hills as the riders returned to the walls of Fraser keep. Darragh led the charge, his shoulders back, a look of victory that didn’t match the growing unease in his chest.
