Page 58 of In Bed with a Highland Liar

After all, she could remain far away from the soldiers and their blades and anything that could truly harm her. She could help from afar, perched on a tree and hidden from sight, there to assist as needed. Had she been born a son, her father would not have given it a second thought, commanding her to prepare for the fight.

“Ye’re displeased,” Freya said. “Did ye truly think faither would allow ye tae go with them?”

“I was hopin’ he might,” said Lilith. “I was hoping’ Aaden, perhaps, would try an’ convince him, at least, but he too thinks it is too dangerous fer me tae join them.”

“O’ course he does,” said Freya. “Faither would never put yer life in danger, Lilith, an’ neither would Aaden.”

“I cannae simply sit here until they return.” Lilith didn’t think she could bear it, spending her days in the castle shooting her arrows or painting or reading, simply trying to pass the time until they returned. She would go mad before they came back, her concern for Aaden and her father, for Cameron and the rest of the men getting the better of her and sending her into a frenzy. Besides, this was the moment she had always been waiting for, the chance to prove herself as someone who could stand her ground in a real fight.

“An’ what will ye dae, then?” asked Freya. “Faither an’ Aaden will never allow it. I doubt Cameron would allow it either.”

Lilith considered the question for a moment, before a smirk bloomed in her face. It didn’t take Freya long to realize that she had come up with something, answering with a smirk of her own.

“What are ye plannin’?” Freya asked. Though Lilith knew she worried about her, she had always been willing to go along with her mischief, ever since the two of them were children.

“I need ye tae distract the guards when faither and the others leave’,” Lilith said. “An’ then I will follow after them.”

“Ye’ll need a horse,” Freya pointed out.

“Och aye,” said Lilith. “An’ I will find one.”

She was a skilled rider, after all. She hardly needed a saddle, so preparing one for herself would be a matter of minutes.

“Promise me ye will be careful.” Freya pulled Lilith into a tight embrace, her arms wrapping tightly around her shoulders. Lilith returned it, holding her sister just as tightly. “It truly is dangerous, Lilith. They are nae wrong about that.”

“I ken,” Lilith said. She was under no delusions that this would be without any risk at all. Still, the thought of danger was not enough to dissuade her from following. “I’ll take care, I promise.”

It didn’t take long for the small army of men to be gathered at the gates. Among them were her father, Aaden, Evander, and Cameron, all of them armed to the teeth and ready for battle. Six more men surrounded them, their expressions stony and unreadable.

Lilith and Freya watched them as they departed, the ten of them rushing out of the castle walls and into the distance. Once they were far enough from the castle, Lilith turned to her sister and gave her a sharp nod, one that Freya reciprocated.

Then, she crumbled right to the ground.

“Freya!” Lilith shouted, alerting all the guards and the servants around them. Freya played the role of a fainting maiden well, her body immobile and her limbs heavy even as Lilith shook her. As the guards came to help, swarming the two of them, Lilith stepped back under the guise of giving them space. Slowly, she backtracked, taking step after step backwards while everyone else was busy trying to bring her sister back to consciousness, and once she was certain no one was looking her way, she broke into a mad sprint, heading for the stables.

By the time anyone would notice that she was gone, it would be too late.

Before reaching the horses, Lilith stopped by the training grounds to pick up her bow and her arrows, slinging them over her shoulder. Once at the stables, Lilith grabbed her horse and put on the reins, not bothering with a saddle before she jumped on and headed out of the gates. The guards, too busy tending to Freya, had left the gates open and paid her no mind as she breezed through them.

In the distance, she could see the small party that was heading to Laird MacEwan’s cottage, tearing through the valley below. Now all she had to do was follow them and make sure they would not spot her.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

The sun had long set in the horizon and the night was cold, though bright. A full moon illuminated their way as Aaden and the rest of his party rode through the forest, though its cold light did nothing to warm their bodies. In their rush, they had hardly brought anything but weapons with them, and now Aaden regretted the decision to leave so soon. They had covered plenty of ground, though, and if the cottage was where Evander remembered it, then they would be there by late morning.

Is it already too late? What will we find there?

The thought of finding nothing was more comforting than the thought of finding something in that cottage. At least if they found it empty, then it would mean his mother was still alive. What would they do if they found a corpse instead?

Aaden shuddered, half from the cold and half from the thought itself. It sickened him, to think that Ruadh had such power over him and his loved ones and he couldn’t help but wish that he had put an end to this a long time ago.

I should have killed Ruadh ‘afore all this. I should have killed him ‘afore he could hurt anyone.

Laird Stewart’s men moved fast through the forest, even with the darkness that surrounded them. His men were well trained, it seemed, moving as a unit with no man ever straying behind. The path they were following was narrow, with thick roots protruding from the ground that could have tripped less experienced riders but that did nothing to slow them down. Aaden could see now how Lilith had ended up becoming such a good rider, beating even him at their race.

The entire time they rode, though, he felt a prickle at the back of his neck, a strange sensation as though someone was watching him. Every now and then, he turned around only to find no one there, nothing but darkness and the sparkling eyes of the critters that roamed the woods at that time of the night.

It must have been his imagination, he thought. The stress of finding his mother was too much, making him imagine things. He wouldn’t crumble under the pressure, though; he couldn’t.