Page 16 of The Madam’s Highlander

“Now,” Freya gritted through her teeth. “I dinna risk all of this for ye to go soft on me.”

Her goading worked and Captain Fraser followed her through the hall and to the narrow back stairs where the dark alley lay behind Molly's. She only hoped Edward would have the carriage ready this early. She knew the path he would take to arrive at Molly's from his simple stable several streets up. They could walk there and pretend to be a fine couple out for an evening stroll.

In a town like Edinburgh, they'd never be suspected.

Together they burst out of the alley and made their way toward the bustle of the main street, cloaks secured around their throats and hoods up.

“I thought I might find ye here,” a voice growled.

Freya spun around and found Clemmons standing in front of Molly's, the pistol in his hand aimed directly at her.

CHAPTER FIVE

The pistol went off at the same time Captain Fraser slammed into Freya, knocking her backward. She staggered but managed to keep her footing.

People nearby screamed and everyone ducked. The crowd erupted into a chaotic scatter of men and women, eager to clear themselves from the path of danger.

Captain Fraser grabbed Freya's arm and pulled her into the heart of the crowd. They pulled their cloaks up around their faces, as if warding off the evening chill, and were easily lost in the scramble.

“We've lost him.” Captain Fraser's tone held such confidence, Freya knew what he said to be true without question.

“This way.” She led him down the path she knew Edward to take. A quick glance at her pocket watch indicated they still had half an hour. Most likely he had not even left yet.

The trek was all uphill at such a slant on Edinburgh's steep streets, Freya swore her knee almost touched her chest at some points. The feat was made more difficult with the slippery cobblestone underfoot. Clammy sweat clung to Freya's brow and both she and Captain Fraser panted with their efforts.

They were almost to the stable when a large carriage appeared, the wheels clattering over the wet pavement. A large carriage so familiar, it was the most beautiful thing Freya had ever seen. She pulled back her hood and waved frantically at Edward.

He immediately stopped the carriage. “I canna imagine this is a good thing. Get inside, quickly. I know a faster route out of the city from here.”

Freya jerked open the small door and stepped inside with enough haste to set the cabin swaying. Captain Fraser followed behind her, his movements slower as his large frame squeezed into the confined box. Freya pulled the door closed and he settled into the narrow seat across from her.

The carriage started with a jolt. She braced her feet on the ground and managed to stay in place. They'd made it. They were on their way out of Edinburgh.

She twisted the flimsy lock on the door for good measure, as if it were anything substantial to keep anyone out, and pulled the curtains closed on the narrow windows. To any passersby, they would appear to be a normal carriage going through the streets of Edinburgh, most likely headed for an opera or a late dinner. Edward and his carriage were such a common sight on the streets, no questions would even be aroused.

They were safe.

Freya did not light the small lamps within the cabin. Not yet. Not until they were out of Edinburgh. Instead they remained in darkness so thick, it strained her vision to see something, anything. She shut her eyes against the ache of it.

Neither she nor Captain Fraser spoke, as if doing so might somehow alert Clemmons of their location. Captain Fraser's steady breath sounded opposite her, and she wondered idly if he were sleeping. Soldiers always could sleep anytime, anywhere.

She liked to consider herself tough, but could not for the life of her imagine being able to sleep while her heart still raced with the fear of being caught.

Over an hour later, two knocks sounded at the side of the carriage. The indication everything was now safe.

Captain Fraser groaned.

“Captain Fraser?” she asked. Surely he had not been frightened by the sound.

He did not answer her.

“Captain?” she said again.

He groaned once more.

Fear jabbed through her. Something was not right. She yanked open the curtains to let in the moonlight. The pale glow washed over Captain Fraser where he lay propped against the right side of the narrow bench, his face glossy with a sheen of sweat.

Definitely not right.