The Runaway Highlander (The Highland Renegades Book 2) Read Online Free Page B

to the floor. Suddenly, the plan seemed not to be her most brilliant. He’d been so gentle with her, so kind, and how had she repaid him? By distracting him so a wounded fugitive could bludgeon him with a heavy helmet.
    William leaned on the table, holding his wounded side and heaving. He could have passed for her brother, she thought, with his high cheekbones and sharp-edged jawline. She and Broccin had been confused for siblings before, so it shouldn’t surprise her. Their European lineage gave them a unique look in her part of the Highlands. Or, as her mother often said, their Viking lineage. Even curled over himself, the large blond man could have passed for one of their Viking ancestors, just like Broc. Just like her brother. And her father.
    Oh heavens above. Her father. He would be ashamed of her, participating in something so unladylike as an escape. She took a breath and was about to remind William of the second half of their plan when he did what she’d been threatening to do ever since she saw his wound. As he finished heaving, Anne felt the creep of the threatening urge crawl up the back of her throat. She swallowed against it and covered her nose.
    When she composed herself enough to look back, William was unwrapping one of the rolls of linens.
    “What are you doing?” she asked.
    “Cleaning this up.” He paused, putting a hand on the table and closing his eyes, swaying. “The pain is great, my lady.”
    “We don’t have time. If you lose any more of your stomach, then you lose it, but we can’t stop. Who knows how long Aedan will be out.”
    “I didn’t kill him, did I?”
    Anne hadn’t even considered that as an option. She hadn’t seen him move. Dropping to her knees, she caught another whiff of the sour mess on the floor and covered her nose and mouth, fighting off the nausea.
    She felt the side of his head where William had made contact. A large lump had formed, and there was a tiny bit of blood, but not so much that it flowed. Still. Anne held out a hand for the roll of bandages that remained in William’s hand.
    The linen covered most of his scar as she wrapped it around the wound. Tiny breaths escaped his lips and before she stood, Anne slid her hand along the smooth side of his face. “I ’m sorry, Aedan,” she whispered, hovering over his face. She ran her thumb along the bottom edge of his lip and her own mouth pursed for the briefest of seconds. Aware of William watching, she released Aedan’s wounded head and surprised herself with the fact that she wanted to stay.
    Leaning most of her weight against the shelving, Anne pulled herself to her feet, a tiny spinning feeling rumbling in her stomach. She paused to collect her wits, but the spinning wouldn’t stop. She didn’t like leaving a wounded man behind.
    “He is alive, but we can’t risk him waking.”
    William slung one of the clean tunics over his head and cried out as he pulled it fully on. The color of a rooster’s gobble, these clothes were made for the English. The mere sight of her enemy’s uniform made her fists clench. But this truly was the best of their options.
    He took one of the long spears from the shelves and slung the belt around his waist that he’d used to stifle his pain while she sewed him together.
    “Don’t forget to take that bundle of extra cloth. You’ll need to change those bandages often. After all this exertion, you’re going to bleed. And quite a bit, I’m afraid.” Anne leaned against the shelves, still blocked from her exit by Aedan’s prostrate posture.
    He groaned as he stretched for the bundle. The poor man, having to travel like this, but what choice did he have? He couldn’t stay in the dungeon, or their plans for escape would be thwarted. She couldn’t help him truly, or risk being implicated herself. This was the only way.
    Anne inhaled deeply and stepped over Aedan’s body, blocking William’s ability to get to the door. “Now.” She straightened her skirts and dropped