Constance panicked as she listened to the chaos unfolding above stairs. Children screamed and cried as the nuns paced back and forth and did their best to answer the men’s impertinent questions. She looked around her small enclosure. Where could she hide?
It was quite dark down in the basement since there was only one window to light the entire space. Part of the punishment was the lack of light. There was only one torch and it was only lit for a few hours a day. Presently, it was out.
She straightened her pallet, took her Bible and clothing and lay flush against the door, covering herself with a worn blanket. If anyone looked in the window, they wouldn’t see her. They’d have to open the door. It was the best she could do under the circumstances.
She leaned against the door as two brutes barreled down the staircase.
“It’s dark down here. How the hell are we supposed to see anything?”
The other man said, “She claims there’s no one down here, and I doubt she’d put any lasses down in the cellar. Take a quick look in each cubby. You start at that end, I’ll start at this one.”
Constance held her breath when the footsteps stopped at her window. A moment passed, then the man said, “There’s no one here. This is a waste of our time.” His companion cursed and the two headed back up the stairs. Constance let out her breath in a relieved whoosh, only the nightmare was far from over.
More screaming, crying, and cursing rang out from above stairs, but she could do naught. She panted from fear, doing her best to take deep breaths to slow her trembling and her racing heart.
After another quarter of an hour, the men left and she finally moved out of her hiding spot.
The only thing she knew for sure was they had English accents.
Were they her sire’s men or were they searching for girls for the channel? She hadn’t known any of her sire’s guards to be English, but she hardly knew them all.
She hoped to never know the answer to that question, but in her heart she already knew.
***
The four men made their way through the dark streets of Edinburgh.
“Are you sure we’re going in the right direction?” Gregor asked.
Connor nodded. “Aye. Uncle Logan said this was the best place for us to find access to the underground.”
With uncharacteristic reserve, Gavin muttered, “I’m not sure I wish to find it.”
Daniel settled his hand on his black-clad hip, shifting his gaze from one inn to the next. There had to be a clue somewhere. They’d gone into three taverns without hearing a whisper about the Channel of Dubh.
“What the hell are you looking for?” Gavin asked.
“Anything that tells me an establishment is not what it appears to be. You know why they call it the underground, do you not? I would guess most of the business takes place below ground. Uncle Logan said there’s plenty of wagering, and they’d want to hide that. They are probably in cellars in one of these establishments.”
“Daniel has a point,” Connor added, turning in a circle and looking at all the buildings in the square. “There’s probably a separate entrance, mayhap even in the back. That way the blackguards won’t be seen by the regular patrons. Which of the inns is largest?”
They paid Daniel no mind, each of his cousins preoccupied in assessing different buildings, so he took advantage of a perfect situation.
A boisterous crowd of drunken fools came along beside them, split into a few groups of three or four lads, bellowing loudly about “wagers.” Without a word to his cousins, he fell in with the crowd, moving with them as they made their way toward one of the taverns. Just as he suspected, they ambled toward a side door instead of going in through the front. A massive guard stood by the door at the base of a set of steps, and before entering, each small group handed over a stone. The group he’d joined was so deep in their cups that he managed to join them without being noticed.
Once inside, he waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness so he could determine what he’d stumbled into. He moved over to a long counter, observing the attendant as he sold drinks and took wagers. The crowd was three deep, so no one paid any attention to him, but he couldn’t help but wonder.
Wagers on what?
He followed two young men down the hall, sauntering as if he belonged there, and discovered the attraction.
Fights. Men were brawling against each other with their fists.
That answered his question. He stayed put until a few men headed out of the cellar, grumbling about their losses. Just as before, he fell in with them—far enough away that they wouldn’t notice but not so far anyone else would realize he was alone—and made his way back to his confused cousins. They hadn’t moved much from their position in the middle of the street.
“What the hell, Ghost? Where did you go?” Connor shouted.
Gavin chuckled but said, “I wish I knew how you did it. I turned around and you were gone. Way to prove your name.”
Gregor said, “What exactly did you learn?”
“Exactly what I thought I’d find. Brutes fighting with their fists in a large chamber in the cellar of a tavern. Men were wagering coin on the outcome. You need a special stone to get inside.”
Connor drawled, “Truly? Then how did you get in?”
Daniel couldn’t stop the grin from covering his face. “I have my ways of sneaking about unnoticed.”
“Which one?” Gavin asked.
Daniel pointed to the tavern not far ahead of them.
Gregor whistled. “The Hound and the Stag is one of the largest inns in the city,” he said, waving toward the building. “Draws many after hunting. Shall we go inside for a small repast?”
“Mayhap we can find out how to get one of those stones,” Gavin said.
Daniel and Connor had already taken steps in that direction. The four of them, all dressed in black, did stand out in the crowd. It was nearly midnight, and while there wasn’t much pushing and shoving on the street, there were plenty of intoxicated revelers.
“If we don’t find what we’re looking for in any of the inns, the other possibility might be a brothel,” Connor said. “They could meet in the cellar there. Though the fights might not have anything to do with the Channel of Dubh.”
Gavin snorted. “I don’t wish to ever see the cellars of a brothel. What they do there is not fit for my eyes.”
Connor coughed.
Daniel stopped and said, “This is the one.”
“How did you get into the cellar?” Gregor asked.
He tipped his head. “Side entrance at the bottom of the stairs. Can’t be seen from the street at night. Let’s go in through the main entrance first. See what we can learn about being allowed into the basement.”
Daniel strode into the tavern and found a table in the back corner. The others followed him in, and once they were settled in, Daniel ordered four ales and tossed a coin to the lass when she served them. She tipped her ample and clearly visible bosom toward Connor, which made the other three snicker.
Connor smiled and said, “Mayhap later, lass.”
Gavin waited until she left, then whispered, “Why did you tell her that? You won’t sample her. I know you, Grant.”
Connor shrugged. “She left with a smile, did she not? ’Tis all you need to know.”
Daniel said, “You’re the one who has to ask her for more information since she prefers you.”
The tavern was busy—many of the patrons were standing, and most of the tables were full. Connor waited until the serving lass passed them again and said, “Lassie, may we have four meat pies and four more ales?”
“Anything for you. I like my men big,” she drawled, leaning in and running her finger down his face.
“Then mayhap you’ll give me some information, and I’ll give you a generous tip.”
“I dinnae want just the tip, I want the whole thing,” she said, a husky chuckle following her words. When she finished laughing at her own joke, she said, “What is it you wish to ken?
”
“We heard there was a good place to make a wager on this street. Where is it?”
She gave him a saucy look, spun on her heel, wiggling her bum at Connor, and disappeared.
When she returned, she served them a pitcher of ale and the plumpest meat pies they’d ever seen, giving Connor the largest one. She held her hand out to Connor, who paid her the necessary coin with a bit extra. Before she left the table, she tipped her other hand over his and dropped a red stone into his palm.
He gave her a puzzled look.
She whispered, “That will get you inside. Give it to the man at the side entrance and he’ll let you in. Come back when you’re finished.” She waggled her eyebrows at him and left.
Gavin said, “Well done, Connor.”
“Eat up,” Daniel said. “We’re going in as soon as we’ve finished.”
“Don’t eat too much, Connor,” Gavin added. “You’ll need your strength for later. She’s got a bigger appetite than any of us.” He tipped his head toward the serving lass who was still staring at them.
As soon as Connor turned his head, she winked at him and cupped her breast with her free hand.
Gregor choked.
Chapter Twelve
Constance hadn’t slept at all. Ada had run down the stairs to check on her, tears running down her cheeks, but the abbess had called her back upstairs to help with the wee ones. Ada had quickly informed her no one was taken. She’d spent the rest of the night alone and afraid.
If those men had come looking for her, they wouldn’t stop. She’d heard someone slap the abbess. They’d scared the wee lassies into tears. After giving it much thought, she knew there was only one thing to do.
She’d run away.
That was her decision, but before she could carry out her plan, she needed to do two things. First, she had to get out of the cellars. It was quite impossible for her to escape without some sort of assistance. She’d thought of asking Ada if she’d find the key and free her, but then Ada would be punished. She couldn’t live with that, so her only choice in this matter was to tell the truth.
Reconciled to the fact that she had no alternative, she’d decided she would give the abbess her real name. There was another reason to do so—if Daniel ever returned for her, it would help him find her.
She could no longer deny that she loved Daniel. He was such a fine man, and he and his cousins humbled her. They worked for the good of all the Scots, trying to rid their land of the beasts who dealt in human trading. She knew he felt incomplete because of his disability, but she didn’t see him that way. She didn’t see him as disabled at all.
The first decision was made. The next time the mother abbess came to speak with her, she would tell her the truth.
All of it.
Then, as soon as she could, she’d run away in the middle of the night.
Which brought her to her second decision, which was more of a quandary. Where would she go? She’d come up with four possibilities.
Going home would be her last resort, something she’d only do if she were chased by nasty reivers and wild boars. The next possibility was to return to Muir Castle and hope that Daniel would be there, but she knew he and his cousins had intended to seek out more information on the Channel of Dubh. Her third choice was to return to MacDole Castle and live there by herself. While she liked that this plan did not involve anyone else, thus eliminating the worry that someone might be harmed on her account, she wasn’t sure the castle would still be empty. A beautiful place like that was sure to be inhabited by now.
Her fourth choice, and the one she thought best, was to try to find Rose. To go to Grant Castle. She’d heard much about Grant land from Connor and Brodie and Celestina. It would be a long journey, but she had a general idea about which direction to go. If she could stay hidden whenever reivers were about, she could surely find some kind people in huts along the way to lead her on.
She sensed this was her best choice, and the likeliest way for her to find her way back to Daniel. If he even wanted her anymore. He’d barely spoken to her on the way back to the abbey. She knew why—he didn’t think she trusted him—but once he did know the truth he would almost certainly not want her.
Footsteps echoed down the staircase.
The mother abbess made her way over to the cell, her arms crossed in front of her.
“Did you overhear anything about the group of men who forced their way inside and held our guards hostage last eve?”
Tears slid down her cheeks as she nodded. “My apologies, Mother Abbess. I don’t know who those men were. I didn’t recognize any voices. They were looking for me, were they not?”
The abbess sighed deeply. “Aye, I think so. ’Tis time we stopped this charade, lass. I know not why you are hiding things from me, and I have tried to be patient with you, but I can no longer risk the well-being of so many people here. I want the truth, Constance. No more made-up tales. Who is your sire and why is he looking for you?”
“I’ll tell you. May I come out, please?” Her breath hitched from her crying.
“Give me the name first, and if I deem it could be a true one, I’ll allow you out so we can chat at the far table in the cellars. If you do not tell me all, I’ll call a guard to place you back in the cubby and find another location for you to take your vows. I will not deal with this falsehood any longer.”
Constance sobbed for a full minute before she was finally able to get control of herself.
“What do you plan to do?” the abbess said at last. “I’m wasting time standing here.”
Constance continued to sob, but finally managed to get out the truth. “My parents are a baron and baroness, Douglas and Margaret Lockhart of Lee, Lanarkshire. And I do have seven brothers and sisters.”
She continued to sob while the abbess unlocked the door. Without speaking, she opened it and pointed silently to the table.
Once Constance took a seat, the abbess handed her two linen squares so she could blow her nose, then sat down opposite her.
“And now you’ll tell me why they’re after you.”
“I have two older sisters and one younger. I did learn to read on my own because my brother taught me. I learned so quickly that he asked me to teach my other brothers to read, so I became quite adept at it.”
“Why are they after you? Did you run away?”
She nodded, playing with the linen square in her lap.
“Why?”
Constance swiped at her tears and stared at the far wall. She needed to answer delicately, but how? She gave up and just told the truth.
“I allowed myself to be seduced by one of the lads in the village. He lied and told me he was heir to a barony. He said he’d marry me, and we’d live in the castle up on the hill.”
“Oh, child…”
“I didn’t understand what he was doing until ‘twas too late. I knew when I saw the blood that I was in trouble. My sire had always told me it was the only thing I had of value, so I didn’t tell my parents.
“But they found out because the lad was only a stable lad in the village, and he boasted to everyone that he would soon be marrying me because he got me with child.”
“But he did not? You have no belly.”
“Nay. When I had my courses, my mother explained everything to me.”
“So while that is indeed embarrassing, it does not tell me why you ran away.”
“My sire was away when the rumors first started. When he returned, I knew I wasn’t carrying, but he found out about my shameful behavior. He heard it himself in the village.” She paused to wipe her eyes, recalling the look on her sire’s face when he’d called her into his solar. He’d paced the room and then repeatedly hit the desk with his fist. Her mother had attempted to calm him down, but he’d ignored them both.
“My sire said he’d send me to an island by myself and leave me there. Then he promised to tie me to a pole and whip me. Then he said he might leave me tied to a pole outside the keep for a whole week so all
could see his failure. He said I’d shamed the family name, and he didn’t even want to look at me. This was after several minutes of asking me why I would do it. Did I have no sense? What was I thinking?” She blew her nose on the linen square. “I feared he’d be angry enough to do them all to me. Whip me, tie me to a post, and send me to an island. You don’t know my sire. He never makes empty threats.”
“You’ve seen him this angry before?”
The twiddling of her thumbs started, and she didn’t attempt to curb the impulse. “Not exactly. This was by far the worst thing I’ve ever done. The way he looked at me…’twas like he hated me. My mother said I wasn’t the first soiled maiden, and my sire said I was the first of his to be soiled.” She stopped to hitch a few times before she continued. “He said I was ruined, that I was worthless to him now, that I was the prettiest of his daughters—” the next words came out in a loud wail, “—but no one would ever want me now because I was foolish and soiled and I’d never marry and I might as well be a spinster on an island.”
The abbess reached across the table and took one hand in hers. “Child, adults say many things they don’t often mean when they are upset.”
“Not my papa. He means everything he says,” she insisted. “But all those threats did not upset me nearly as much as the last one he made.”
The abbess said, “All those threats would have frightened me, although I do believe he was simply saying those things to calm his temper. Some men let their anger out in strange ways. Even so, I’m pleased he didn’t turn violent. What could he say or do that would be worse?”
Constance sniffled again, then whispered, “He said he would send my younger sister Denise to a convent so she wouldn’t be influenced by my mistakes. I couldn’t let him hurt my sister. ’Twas not her fault.”
The abbess patted her hand. “So you ran away.”
“Aye, to protect my sister and because I don’t want to go to the island. He owns a small island that isn’t inhabited by anyone. He took us out there a few times when we were younger, just to pick shells. That place frightened me. I could not have lived out there all on my own. There wasn’t even a building there, just a cave. I overheard him tell our steward to make sure the boat would be ready by the next day. So I ran away that night.”
Highland Fortitude (The Band of Cousins Book 5) Page 8