Highland Captive Read Online Free PDF Page A

Leith’s bed. Dashing to the window, she thoughtfully
measured the distance to the ground then made her decision.
    “I
will make a linen rope and go out the window.”
    “The
men in the bailey,” Leith ventured, fighting to keep his mind clear.
    “They
willnae be looking to the walls. Rest, Leith. This short time of sanity and
strength show that ye can beat this illness but only if ye rest.” She sat on
the bed and began to knot her makeshift rope. “We have done such a height
before, and this should be strong enough to hold me.”
    “Aye,
ye cannae be above a hundredweight.”
    “I
would rather stay here with ye.”
    “Ye
cannae. That mon showed ye what can happen.”
    “Black
Parlan seemed to want no trouble though.”
    “He
thought us both lads. Aye, that man will nay doubt be punished but only because
he tried to take what should be offered to the laird first. Trust me, your only
chance lies in escape.” He closed his eyes against a wave of weakness. “Are ye
nae afraid of rape?”
    Aimil
shrugged. “‘Tis hard to say. I am afraid of being hurt. T’was that which made
me panic when this man leapt upon me. I look at rape much as I look at death.
There is little I can do about either. Both are somewhat commonplace. I willnae
go in search of either nor will I go down without a fight,” she said firmly,
knowing that her character would make her fight either fate with any means at
hand.
    Leith
grinned weakly as, when the man at her feet began to stir, Aimil calmly knocked
him on the head with a heavy candlestick, set the makeshift weapon back by the
bed, and returned to knotting the linen all without a pause in her speech.
    “‘Tis
wretched that men must take their pleasure of unwilling women, but they do.
‘Tis a fact of life. I cannae fash myself to the bone over facts of life.” She
tied her rope to the end of the bed and tested its hold. “That should do. Are
ye sure I willnae be safe here?”
    “Aye,
I am sure. The Black Parlan is weel-kenned for his healthy appetite for the
lasses.”
    “Oh.
Weel, wish me luck,” she murmured and sighed, reluctant to leave him but
feeling he was wiser in such matters.
    “What
will ye do when ye reach the bailey?”
    “Whistle
for Elfking.” She grinned. “If I get down this wall unseen and onto Elfking’s
back before the men down there move, I will have a verra good chance.”
    There
was no disputing that. Leith knew that few horses existed which could match
Elfking for speed. He felt a slight hope rise. She might have a chance of
succeeding if all went as she so blithely planned. If Aimil dropped onto
Elfking’s back and cleared the gates, she had a very good chance indeed.
Another advantage would be that Elfking would be carrying a far lighter burden
than any steed pursuing him.
    Taking
a deep breath to steady her sudden flurry of nerves, Aimil lowered herself out
of the window. She was not afraid of the descent for she and Leith had come
down as great if not greater heights. They had, however, used a proper rope.
They had also not been trying to escape an enemy. She saw now that it had
proven good practice.
    Steadily
and slowly, she went down the wall, using her feet against the stone. There was
a strong wind, and she grit her teeth as she fought its jostling. Although the
wind failed to dislodge her as she neared the end of her descent, it did
succeed in stealing the bonnet, which she had forgotten to secure as strongly
as she had her first one. To further aggravate her, she discovered she was
short of rope. A measuring glance told her she could easily fall onto Elfking’s
back, however, and, readying herself, she whistled for her mount.
    Parlan
glared at the horse that had unseated him again. He tried to ignore the badly
stifled laughter of the men as he watched the horse rise gracefully and shake
the dust from his fine coat. Slowly getting to his feet, Parlan brushed himself
off and finally gave a reluctant grin.
    “Now
I ken what the laddie found