Rebel Kiss: A Historical Romance Novel (Scottish Rebels Book 1) (17 page)

“Mind yer own
business,” Rowan grumbled.  He tenderly lowered himself down into the hay,
wincing from the pain of moving his ribs.

Quinn sat up in
the dark, wiping the sleep from his eyes.  “Ye must stop this, Rowan,” he said
firmly, seeking to finish the argument that they had started in the forest the
morning before.

“And just how am I
supposed tae do that, Quinn?” Rowan asked, eyes open staring into the dark of
the barn.

“I’ve seen the way
that ye look at her, brother.  Ye canna hide it.  Hell, I’ve seen the way that
she looks at ye back,” Quinn said, voice steady in the darkness.

Malcolm grumbled
from beneath his blanket.

Quinn continued,
refusing to drop the issue.  “Nay good can come of this, Rowan.  Ye need tae
let her go, distance yerself from her.  She’s promised tae be marrit.”

“Do ye think that
I doona realize that, Quinn?  I ken what I should do.  It’s just that I canna
force myself tae do it!”

“We’ve got Malcolm
tae think of.  Every day that ye dally here with the lass is one day that we
should be runnin’ for our lives.  What if we’re found out, Rowan?  What if
we’re captured and indentured as we were meant tae be when we were shackled tae
that bloody ship?”

Silence fell
between them in the dark.

“Have ye taken her
maidenhead?” Quinn asked, gritting his teeth together, expecting the worst.

“Do ye think that
I have no morals?”

“I doona ken what
tae think, Rowan.  I’ve seen ye rollin’ around beneath the blankets with her in
the woods, heard ye groanin’ and her whimpering and…”

“I’ll admit that I
havena been completely proper with the lass, but I’d never stoop sae low as tae
dishonor her,” Rowan said adamantly, angry that his brother was butting in to
his personal issues. 

“I hope she’s worth
it… I…” Quinn trailed off, searching for the right words.

“Was Mairi worth
it?” Rowan flung the words angrily at his brother.

Quinn stood up
silently, his muscles tense and his eyebrows furrowed together into a deathly
scowl.  He punched to heavy wooden wall of the barn with an explosive blow. 
Quinn let out an inhuman roar and pummeled the wall again before stalking
angrily into the darkness.

Chapter Twelve

Anna had found her
warrior’s weak spot.  Rowan’s nipples were ticklish.  She smiled, sliding her
hand deviously under his shirt and up his taut chest.  Feeling his solid,
muscled abdominal muscles beneath her fingertips made her heart flutter.  She
remembered the solid warmth of Rowan’s tanned skin and how she had trailed
kisses over his bare chest the night before.  Touching Rowan secretly like this
made desire begin to pool between her thighs.  Rowan made no effort to stop her
quiet invasion, causing Anna to smile to herself.

Anna sat cradled
in his lap on the horse.  Ever so slowly, she inched her fingers up his chest. 
Rowan shuddered under her touch.  When Anna brushed her fingertip faintly
across his nipple Rowan squirmed in surprise and nearly unseated both of them
from the saddle.

“Doona provoke me
woman,” Rowan whispered haughtily against Anna’s ear so that his brothers
wouldn’t hear.  “Ye ken full well that I’ll get ye back ten fold tonight when
I’ve got ye alone.”

Anna felt Rowan’s
muscles tense beneath her.  She knew immediately that something was wrong as he
jerked the horse to a stop.  Her blood iced in her veins when she saw why Rowan
had stopped.  Her hand froze in place, still concealed under Rowan’s shirt
right over his rapidly beating heart.

Turning a sharp
corner in the well traveled road, they had nearly collided with the soldiers. 
It was too late to flee and there were too many of them to outrun.  Rowan
increased the pressure of his protective grip around Anna’s waist and reined
the horse to a complete stop.

Quinn glanced at
Rowan, nodding ever so slightly at his brother.  His gray eyes darted first at
Malcolm and then at Anna.  Quinn and Rowan had made a pact that if a situation
like the one that they had just walked into arose, they would work together to
save Malcolm and Anna. 

They had planned
to sacrifice themselves in whatever means necessary to give their younger
brother a chance at survival, hoping that Malcolm could safely deliver Anna to
her uncle.

Rowan nodded in
agreement, feeling the weight of his dagger against his side. The meager weapon
would do little to defend him against twenty soldiers, each one armed to the
teeth. No, a dagger would not defeat the English.  But if Rowan could fight
them off long enough, if he could create a big enough distraction, Anna and
Malcolm might slip away into the dense forest.

Rowan was
confident that he had trained Malcolm well.  His brother knew how to disappear
into the forest, how to hide and forage for food.  Malcolm would be capable of
seeing to Anna’s welfare, but he would need a diversion to slip away with her.

The leader of the
soldier rode forward, or at least the Murray brothers suspected that he was
their leader, being that his coat was bedecked with more medals and finery that
the other soldier’s uniforms.  He was a tall man with broad shoulders and a
squared jaw.  His skin was tanned from much time spent outside and he had his
blonde hair slicked back into a thin queue secured with a black ribbon at the
base of his skull.  The solider reined his horse to a stop in front of them and
looked quizzically at Rowan and Anna.

“Anna?” he asked
cautiously, blue eyes scanning her face.  “Anna Stanton?”

“Yes?” Anna
responded nervously, her voice shaky. 

How does this
man know my name?

The soldier
dismounted his horse and shouted over his shoulder to his comrades, “It’s her. 
We’ve found her!”  He straightened his jacket, still holding the reins of his
horse in his right hand and then took a step forward.  “Jonathan Arbor, at your
service,” he said, introducing himself and lowering into a formal bow.

Anna’s mouth dropped
open in shock.  She made a conscious effort to close it. Her stomach clenched
into a knot and for a split second she thought that she might be sick.  Rowan’s
legs tensed beneath her own.  His grip was now so tight about her waist that
Anna had trouble breathing.  She slid her hand carefully from beneath Rowan’s
linen shirt. Rowan’s thundering heartbeat pounded against her back.

Jonathan stared at
Anna impatiently, his blue eyes studying her beneath scrunched together brows. 
He stood up to his full height and brushed a strand of his blonde hair back
behind his ear.  “Don’t you know who I am, Anna?” he asked, his eyes trained on
Anna’s face.  “We’re to be married.”

Anna swallowed
hard, the shock of Jonathan’s introduction taking hold.  “Yes…I know who you
are,” she stammered, unsure of what to do next.  “Forgive me,” she managed. 
“It is such a shock to find you here.  I’d never expected…”

“I’ll take her
now.  Hand her down,” Jonathan said, now addressing Rowan as he walked briskly
toward the mare.  “We owe you and your companions a debt of gratitude for
keeping Miss Stanton safe.  You’ll be handsomely rewarded,” Jonathan smiled,
motioning for Anna to get down from Rowan’s horse.  “C’mon, Anna…I’ll help you
down,” he said, extending his gloved hand up towards her.

Fingers shaking,
Anna obediently took Jonathan’s hand and allowed him to help her dismount. 
Rowan held onto her waist for just a second too long.  Her eyes met his as
Jonathan pulled her down from the horse.  Rowan’s eyes were stormy with
possessiveness and rage.  He was using every ounce of his self-control as he
let her go.  Anna could still feel Rowan’s touch hot against her skin.  His
eyes haunted her.

Jonathan stood
next to Anna, openly appraising her.  “It looks like you’ve had a rough
journey,” he chuckled, taking in Anna’s dirty, torn dress and her disheveled
hair.  “We’ll get you home and cleaned up in no time,” he remarked, embarrassed
that his bride looked like a common pauper.

Anna stood next to
Jonathan, stunned and unable to find the right words.  An overwhelming feeling
of numbness washed over her.  She felt empty.  Hollow.  Anna dared not look up
at Rowan, as she was already fighting back tears that were eager to fall. But
she could not force herself to look at Jonathan either and so her eyes rooted
on the dusty road.  She struggled to quell the nausea that churned in her
stomach.

Jonathan dug into
the inside pocket of his coat and produced a heavy purse.  He tossed it handily
to Rowan, who caught it reflexively.  “For your trouble,” he said, nodding at
Rowan.  “Thank you for delivering her safely.”

“Aye,” said Rowan
numbly, the purse heavy in his palm.  He didn’t want the money.  He wanted
Anna.

Taking Anna’s hand
in his, Jonathan started to lead her towards his horse.  She stumbled, frozen
in place, causing him to look at her harshly.  “Shall we?” he asked
insistently, tugging her towards the horse again.

“Wait!” Anna
said.  “I need to tell them goodbye.  They’ve been so kind to me…”she trailed
off, shaking free from Jonathan’s grip and walking purposefully back towards
the Murray brothers.

“As you wish,”
Jonathan said, swinging impatiently up into the saddle.  “Don’t take long. 
We’ll need to get to the inn before dark.”

Anna was unsure if
her knees would carry her.  They were shaking beneath her and threatened to
give out.  Her pulse was hammering in her ears, making it difficult to think
rationally.  She walked over to Malcolm and Quinn first.  Malcolm had already
dismounted his horse and was followed by Quinn, who still held the reins tightly
in his left hand.

Malcolm rushed
towards Anna and captured her in a bear hug, crushing her to his chest.  Anna
distinctly heard Jonathan’s grunt of disapproval and responded by hugging the
boy tighter.  She pulled away from Malcolm, holding him at arm’s length.  Her
hands gripped his shoulders reassuringly and then slid up to hold his face
between her palms.  There were tears welling in Malcolm’s eyes and he fought
valiantly to hold them back.

“It’s going to be
fine, Malcolm.  I’m fine,” Anna said, seeking to reassure him.  “You listen to
your brothers now,” she said, smiling, and reached up to brush a strand of hair
behind Malcolm’s ear.  “I’m so proud of you.  You’re growing into such a strong
young man.  You’ll make some lucky girl very happy someday,” Anna said as she
forced a shaky smile.

“I’ll miss you,
Anna,” Malcolm whispered, sniffling and working hard to fight back tears.

“I’ll miss you
too,” Anna said honestly.  She leaned forward and placed a kiss on Malcolm’s
cheek.  She hugged him tightly and then let him go, turning to Quinn.

Anna knew that
Quinn was not a hugger, but she wrapped her arms around him anyway, catching
him off guard.  He awkwardly fitted his arms around her and rested his chin on
her head. 

Anna leaned up and
whispered into his ear, “Take care of him, Quinn.  He needs you.”

Quinn knew that
Anna was not talking about Malcolm.

She drew slowly
away from Quinn, smiled slightly and then kissed him on the cheek.  Anna
straightened her spine and prayed silently for strength.  She was about to do
the hardest thing that she had ever done.

 She had to say
goodbye to Rowan.

Rowan slid numbly
down from his horse, holding the reins in his left hand.  His eyebrows were
knit together and a look of resentment was heavy on his handsome face.

Anna walked up to
him, standing less than a foot away from him.  She waited for Rowan to look
down at her.  He swallowed hard, collecting himself and settled his gaze on
hers.

The resentment,
the pain that was there in his eyes broke Anna’s heart.

Anna bit her lip
in an effort to keep the tears that she held back from flowing.

“Doona cry,
sweetheart,” Rowan whispered so that only she could hear.  “It will only make
this harder,” he said, reaching up to brush the first of her tears from the
corner of her eye with his thumb.  “This is right, Anna.  Ye made the right
choice,” he whispered.  It took every ounce of restraint that Rowan had to hold
onto his control.  He fought every urge to grab Anna, toss her on the back of
his horse, and to try to make a run for it.  He knew that they would never make
it.  They were vastly out numbered.

Anna’s chin
quivered as Rowan touched her.  She leaned ever so slightly into his touch,
closing her eyes and savoring the feeling of Rowan’s hand against her skin for
the last time.  She swallowed hard, fighting to regain her composure.  Anna
knew that if she hugged Rowan, if she held him in her arms right now, Jonathon
would have to pry her away kicking and screaming.  She didn’t dare touch Rowan
because she knew that she would not have the will power to force herself to let
him go.

Standing on her
tip toes, Anna slowly reached up until her lips hovered just above the skin of
Rowan’ right ear.  She shuddered as she breathed in his familiar masculine
scent, fighting to retain her fragile control.

 “I love you,
Rowan Murray,” she whispered, the emotion of her admission causing her voice to
shake.

Rowan drew in a
shaky breath.  His hands were fisted by his sides, a feeble restraint against
the desire to hold Anna.  He hadn’t known that it was possible until now, but
he actually
felt
his heart break in half as Anna whispered those words.

Chapter Thirteen

“Tonight you’ll
wear the blue satin.  I had it made to compliment my coat,” Jonathan said
matter-of-factly.  “And wear your hair up again, I like it better that way,” he
added, turning to leave the private drawing room.

“I’m tired,
Jonathan,” Anna whispered.  “I would like to stay in tonight.”  The flurry of
social engagements were exhausting.  Anna had been paraded about Williamsburg
on Jonathan’s arm every night since their betrothal had been announced
publically.  She was weary from forcing smiles and feigning interested in
Jonathan’s social connections. 

Jonathan turned
towards her.  His blonde eyebrows were drawn together in a scowl.  “Do not try
me tonight, darling.  We are expected at General Abbott’s for dinner.  Be a
good girl and go get changed.  Your maid will be waiting.”

“I am not your
possession,” Anna snapped.  She stood from the high-backed velvet loveseat, her
hazel eyes bright with challenge.  Her gaze met Jonathan’s.  Anna felt a surge
of fear flood through her, making the tiny hairs stand up on the back of her
neck.

Jonathan’s blue
eyes narrowed.  His teeth clenched together.  He looked as if he might strike
Anna, the muscles of his arms and shoulders tense with his anger.  “I shall
warn you, just this once,” Jonathan said, his voice controlled but barbed with
the distinct tenor of his anger.  “Do not challenge me, Anna.  Remember how it
was that you came to be here.  You may not be my possession, but I
paid
for you.  It will serve you well to remember that.”

Anna wanted to run
but she forced herself to stand tall.  Her eyes never wavered from Jonathan’s
face.

“I’ll see you in
the foyer at seven o’clock,” Jonathan said.  He turned on his heel and strode
from the solar.  “Do not be late,” he called over his shoulder, not looking
back.

..ooOoo..

Alone in her
dressing room, Anna’s eyes stung from the tears that she refused to let fall. 
She had dismissed her ladies maid, needing time to think.

What have I
done?

Perhaps Jonathan
Arbor was her atonement for the sins of her feeble heart.  Anna could never
love him.  Jonathan was cold and possessive, more interested in public
appearances than Anna’s thoughts or feelings.  Being his wife would be a death
sentence.  Anna felt the walls of Jonathan’s Williamsburg residence closing in
on her, choking the very life from her body.

I am not your
possession.

In a silent act of
dissent, Anna donned an olive green gown, which she felt complimented her hazel
eyes beautifully.  She brushed her blonde hair until it crackled and plaited
both sides next to her forehead, bringing them together in the back of her head
and securing them above the flowing masses of her blonde waves. 

I like my hair
down.

Being Lieutenant
Arbor’s fiancé was not at all what Anna had anticipated.  She hated it with
every fiber of her being.  Jonathan was particular about everything, and he
seemed to believe that because he had paid to bail Stanton Place out of financial
ruin, that in turn, he also owned Miss Anna Stanton.  He told Anna what to
wear, whom to speak to and what she could and could not do.  Jonathan even
tried to tell her what she should think.

Anna had survived
the past two weeks at Jonathan’s country estate by keeping her chin up and her
head held high.  She had hoped that with time, she would come to like Jonathan,
maybe even love him.  He made this difficult by treating her like a possession
and not a person. 

A firm knock at
her chamber door rattled Anna.  She took a quick glance at her reflection in
the mirror, knowing that her outright defiance of Jonathan’s orders would anger
him.  She opened the door to find Jonathan waiting in the corridor.

His eyes scanned
over the olive green gown and a frown settled on his face.  Jonathan grabbed
Anna’s elbow harshly and shoved her back into the chamber, slamming the door
behind them.

“Why do you defy
me?” he questioned, still squeezing Anna’s elbow.

Anna clenched her
teeth.  She glared at Jonathan and jerked her arm out of his grasp.

“People are
waiting for us downstairs,” Jonathan hissed.  “You will not cause a scene.  You
will change.  Immediately.  It is too late to do anything about your hair,” he
said, his words angry and clipped as his eyes flashed up to Anna’s unbound
hair.

Anna crossed her
arms in front of her chest, never taking her eyes away from Jonathan’s intense
stare.  Tears burned at her eyes as he walked briskly from her chamber and
slammed the door.  Anna knew that he was waiting just outside the door.

Jonathan would
force her to submit.

Anna refused to
let her tears fall.

She deftly unlaced
the back of the olive green gown and let it fall to the floor.  Her eyes stung
with her unshed tears as flung open the armoire and ripped the blue silk gown
off of the hanger.

You will not
break me, Jonathan.

Anna stepped into
the blue silk gown.  She felt as if a she had lost a little piece of herself by
submitting to Jonathan’s orders.  Fear had begun to grow within her.  What
would happen if she did not submit?  Would Jonathan punish her?  Would he beat
her?

Anna laced up the
gown, tugging harshly on the laces and tying them in a bow at the base of her
spine.  She refused to look at herself in the mirror.

She didn’t want to
see the hollowness that she knew would be reflected in her eyes.  Anna was
ashamed of her weakness.

The painful truth
resounded within her with every beat of her broken heart.

The invitations to
the huge wedding that Jonathan had planned had already been sent out.  With
less than a week until the ceremony, the feeling of dread that had been growing
inside Anna was now impossible for her to ignore. 

Anna wanted to get
married. 

She had to get
married. 

Marriage was part
of the duty that she needed to fulfill in order to restore the Stanton family
name and keep her mother out of the poor house. 

Yes, Anna wanted
to get married.

But not to
Jonathan Arbor.