by Anya Karin
John smiled under his hood. “Maybe once or twice.”
“Sorry.”
“Don’t do that. You’ve been living for everyone around you for the past two years, and that’s just the time I’ve known you. And anyway, you’re rushing ahead. You’ve always been the cautious one of us.”
A moment passed in silence and then Gavin said: “why are we here?”
“Do some robbing? Do some good?”
“No, I mean how do we know we aren’t walking straight into a trap?”
“Lynne, I trust her.” John said.
“Aye, but why do you? You met her only the once.”
“You’re one to tell me about being careful of women we’ve met once?”
Gavin chewed his lip.
“I think we’ve arrived,” Gavin said.
He looked up at the apartment that stood three stories above Queen’s Street, about halfway between the old castle at the center of Edinburgh, and the government buildings at the other end.
“We’ve been busy on this street lately, aye?” He said.
“Can’t ever tell where you’ll get a job. What are you doing?” John put his hand on Gavin’s shoulder as the bigger man tensed up and addressed the door. “Are you a bull? We’re burglars, leave off the shoulder ramming.”
“Sorry, I just...”
“Your mind’s somewhere else, I know. Why not let me lead this time. Better that than to go charging headlong into some dark apartment filled with rich old aristocrats.”
“Most likely for the best.”
“Let’s see here, someone drew me a diagram.” John fished the letter Lynne wrote him out of his pouch and held it up. “Looks like there should be a series of ledges on windows leading to...ah hah! There it is. Look. We follow that one, that one and then that one over there, and we’re home free.”
Gavin followed John’s bouncing finger with his eyes, then nodded and began his ascent.
“Gav, you know how I know you didn’t read that letter?”
“Huh?”
“The letter, from Lynne. You know how I know you didn’t read it?”
“What are you talking about?”
“The door.”
“What?”
“It’s open, see?” He pushed the door gently, and it swung open. “Lynne’s been good to me. I suppose I was pretty good to her too? Anyway, this is the home of Lord and Lady Somerset, two fine nobles who plan to buy Scotland or steal it. They’re not here at this time of year, but their jewelry is. After you, dear friend, though we’ll still need to be a bit stealthy.”
“If no one’s here, then...?”
“Ah someone is here. Lynne. And she’s sleeping. I’d hate to wake her until I’m good and ready.”
He pushed open the door, grinned, and ushered Gavin inside.
As he said, the house was dark and abandoned, almost completely, except for a few sleeping servants who Gavin supposed were there to make sure people like him didn’t do exactly what he was about to do.
“This is insanity,” he whispered. “What are we doing with ourselves?”
“Shh! We’re stealing three boxes full of jewels and one box full of Crowns and one of bullion that’s all going to be used to rape Scotland even more ragged than she’s already been.”
Walking softly down the hall to one bedroom, checking over it for an inhabitant and then entering, Gavin found a latch and tugged it to open a hidden drawer.
“Why don’t they ever put things in new places? Oy, John – found the box in here, full of pearls. What’s the use of all this stuff?”
“Looks nice,” John said. “Better to have a pretty neck than to feed...what would you say? This box alone would feed Dunne Craig for a year? Two maybe? It’s a small town, but that’s a small bunch of jewelry. What gets me is how one of us might find two or three Pounds on the ground and be able to rent a room for a fortnight or two. One of these people find a Pound, they’d just kick it across the street.”
“Your friend is sure no one is here?” Gavin said.
“Aye, why do you ask? They’ve got a cat, I think, along with the servants. They probably treat the cat better.”
“No reason, I just thought I heard – there it is again.”
A faint jingle came from down the hall and to the right, in the direction of the door.
“John, are you sure your friend is trustworthy? I know what you said before, but you did satisfy her, didn’t you?”
“Me? You’re asking John Two-fingers if he satisfied a woman.” He laughed softly. “I don’t think I’ve ever-”
“Left one wanting more?” A soft, husky voice that belonged to someone much sultrier than either John, or Gavin, could ever hope to be, lilted through the darkness.
“Who – who’s there?” Gavin yanked the dirk from his belt. “John...where are you? I don’t want this blade to find your throat.”
“To your left, three paces.” The sound of metal sliding through leather let Gavin know his friend had his sword in hand.
Though both of them were able fighters, John was a natural with a blade despite his missing fingers. The way he balanced the hilt against his palm had an awkwardness that disarmed opponents while his rapier found its mark every single time. Gavin was practiced, but mechanical when he fenced, but John moved like water.
“Ach, aye, what is this then?” The voice was quite a bit less seductive. “Two overgrown lads fumbling about with knives in the dark? I suppose if you want to test me, I’d oblige.”
“What did you get us into?” Gavin whispered. “Are we about to kill a woman?”
“Kill me? Ach, listen to him! He’s going to kill me when he’s the one with the rope about his ankle. That’s bravery for you.”
“A rope? Wh-” Gavin was cut off when the promised rope tightened around his foot, pinching the skin on his ankle and swept him to the floor. “Ow! What is this? John! What’s going on?”
“That was a fair mite easier than you said it’d be.” The woman’s voice was next to him. When Gavin squinted, he could make out a shapely figure standing in front of him clad in what seemed to be tight-fitting leggings underneath an open-necked tunic.
Suddenly, a frenzy of noise from outside shook the thief to his core.
“John? John! Where are you? Answer me!”
A foot rested on the back of his hand, then twisted until Gavin dropped his dagger. The woman stooped and plucked it off the ground by the blade and tossed it up and caught the handle.
“Nice knife,” she said.
“Who are you? What are you doing? I thought this was-”
“Aye, of course you did. Why would you think otherwise?”
Gavin shook his head in the darkness, not knowing what to do.
From above him, he heard John’s boot heel click.
“I’m sorry Gavin. I’m – I’ll make this right, I promise.”
“Make what right? What are you talking about? John! Answer me!”
“I...I can’t. When I can, I will. Lynne?”
“Right here. We need to get out of here, and quick. Sheriff’ll be by any minute, and I’d rather not be here when he is. The man smells of a cow’s arse.”
“John?” Gavin said with his hands outstretched. “John, what’s happening, where are you?”
“This isn’t easy, Gav. You’re my brother, and I swear I’ll make this right. But for now, this is much easier.”
“No – what?”
Something whistled through the air and cracked Gavin right behind the ear. It was an expert blow that he’d landed a hundred times before.
“Black...jack...” he said as his eyes closed and his mouth fell open.
“Alright. You owe me for this. You owe me more than you could possibly know, woman. I’ll never let you forget it.”
“I wouldn’t want you too,” Lynne said, dragging a finger across John’s cheek and sucking his bottom lip between hers. “I want you to teach me a few lessons about how naughty of a maid I am.”
“Maid? Now’s not the time. Tie him up, and I swear to all that’s holy, if you hurt him, you’ll pay.”
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” she said. She kissed him again, deeper and harder, and pulled away with a suck.
Gavin felt ropes around his wrists.
And then the skin on his hands burned.
His head was heavy. His skin felt heavy, his bones weighed him down, crushed his chest. He couldn’t breathe.
Then he felt just the floor underneath him.
Then, Gavin felt nothing but warm blackness swallowing him up.
Chapter Eleven
“Miss Kenna seems like she wait for a something.”
“Close, Elena, but say ‘Miss Kenna seems like she is waiting for something’ without the ‘a’, right?” Olga smiled and intertwined her fingers, then rested her hands on her bosom.
Elena repeated what she was supposed to say, and Olga patted her on the shoulder.
“Very good. But Miss Kenna, it seems to me that she is right, no matter her English. Your wedding is in only a few days, but you seem to be tangled in other thoughts. Is anything the matter?”
“Aye, I’d say there is.”
“You can tell me about it if you’d like. I won’t say nothing to the Laird if that’s what you’re worried over. My job is to you, and to you my loyalty lies. Speaking of that, I’ve mended your necklace.”
“Oh, thank you Olga, you didn’t have to do that. But it’s...no, no, I shouldn’t say anything. I do trust you Olga, and you Elena, but I just can’t. It’d just be whining. Either that or I’d be mewling over a little girl’s silly fantasy.”
“You shouldn’t feel bad about how you feel, no matter what it is, I’m to bet we’ve both thought the same things, or close.”
Elena nodded, pleased that she understood. “Have felt many pangs, Miss Kenna.”
Olga smiled and shook her head.
“I don’t know. I don’t want to tell you things that can get you in trouble with Mr. Macdonald. There’s another thing, I’m not even sure what I’m supposed to be calling him. I went through all the ‘what to call your elders’ stuff as a little girl, but it’s all just so confusing, and I canna get my head around it. As a commoner I’m to call him my lord, or Lord Kilroyston. But then my Pa called him Laird Macdonald, and when I do the same he doesn’t correct me. It’s just confusing.”
“Yes,” Olga said with a little smirk. “I understand the difficulty. When I married my first husband, it was a similar kind of arrangement. Better business, you see, for my father. He made chocolates and by marrying me to the man he did, my father got another little store in Munich.”
“How did you get here, Olga? That’s a long way for someone to come, from Munich – where is that? Switzerland? – to Scotland.”
“Ya,” she said. “It is a long way and was a slow trip. He was my first husband, and he beat me, so I shot him. And no, Munich is in Bavaria. I’d love to see it again, but I think it is not likely, at least at my age.”
“You’ll get back there. You’re not old, Olga. My Ma is probably of an age with you and she still works the fields in Fort Mary on the days when my Pa can’t do it...did you just say you shot your husband?”
Olga just smiled, her face round and smooth, but there was a devil behind her eyes.
“He hit me. Hit my son, then he slapped me and then I shot him. I didn’t shoot him in the stomach, so it didn’t hurt. Right between the eyes.”
“Your being here makes more sense now.”
“Oh, lass, it wasn’t because I was on the run. I went to trial, and was turned out free. I weren’t the first girl he hit.”
“But you were the last.”
“And that I was.”
“What about you, Elena? How did you get here?”
“It a strange story, long one.” She grinned. “But I think you have met my husband?”
“I...I doubt that, as I’ve not met much anyone since I got here, not really.”
“Oh, but you’ve met my husband. He tell me about.”
“He told me about it, dear,” Olga said.
“Yes, yes, that.”
“Is he someone who came to the party?” Kenna searched the back of her mind for some clue – any clue who the man might be, but came up empty, except for one horrible thought. “Oh no, you’re not married to that awful sheriff, are you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”
“Ha! No, no, but he are terrible. But you close.”
“Rodrigo? But he doesn’t talk.”
A warm smile played across Elena’s lips. “He doesn’t need to talk to use his tongue,” she said with a giggle. “But yes, him. I came with him to this country when Alan hired him as a tough, and the sheriff and the Laird, they’re...friend not right words...partner.”
“He was rather a decent man when we met.” Kenna said. “Polite, at least, and seems bothered by his employer’s foulness.”
“Oh yes, dear Kenna, Rodrigo,” she said his name with a beautiful rolling of her tongue, “he can’t not stand the sheriff. That thing sheriff chews, and makes Rodrigo carry. He told me wanted to poison it.”
Both of the ladies laughed, but Kenna pursed her lips and drew them closed.
“Elena! Hush! You mustn’t say that. You’ll get in all manner of trouble.”
“No worry on that count,” Olga said. “The first thing you learn when you’re taken into a household as a servant is that you hardly count as a person. You’re a job that must be done, a worker without whom your master could not survive, but who he doesn’t see as alive. You’re like...a tree which sees everything, can tell secrets to other trees, and to the little birds and the squirrels, but what doesn’t count for anything.”
“That’s awful. You both deserve more. You’re both such good people.”
“Ah, dear Kenna, the second thing you learn is that no one deserves anything. These wealthy barons and dukes and earls, they fall just as quickly as anyone else. And it seems that the bigger they get, the more they risk on strange schemes to make money, and then they fall with a crash as loud as you can imagine. But we? No, we just keep going. Keep listening. You’d be amazed at the wealth of secrets that a couple of silly serving girls can keep.”
“You must know the most terrible things,” Kenna said. “Things that Macdonald would be most upset at you telling anyone.”
“Oh I don’t think that,” Olga said. Elena nodded. “We just keep the secrets and titter about them to other servants. I know about his crookedness and his nastiness, but no, I don’t think there’s anything too terrible. After all, someone has to pay attention to you before you can do any damage. And anyway, what would be the use?”
“Sorry, I just don’t know how to take him is all. Before I came, I had only a few days between his acceptance of me and his arrival, and it all happened very quickly. It feels like my life is ending before it even really started.”
“Ah, dear Kenna, to be young and to worry about young things. Listen to me carefully. This is a world full of terrors and darkness. Full of pain. After I shot my husband and was freed, his brother came to my house and killed my son, killed my daughter-”
“That’s terrible!”
Olga waved her words away. “But everything leads one way. Moving forward doesn’t happen without some reason. If you don’t have anything pushing you you’ll stay still. People, we like to be comfortable, yes? We like to stay in one place. If we’re asleep, we want to stay asleep. Something must to push you.”
“But why is it always something that hurts?” Kenna’s cheeks turned red and Olga put her arm around the girl’s sagging shoulders. “Why can’t it ever be something good that makes us move forward?”
Olga grunted from the back of her throat.
“Everything depends on how you look at it. Nothing has only one side of the story. Every bad has a good. Look here,” she said pointing to Elena. “Elena left her brother and three sisters and her parents when Rodrigo brought her, but since then she’s made a new home here. It loo
ks different, and it isn’t familiar, but she’s here and she’s got new friends and a new family.”
Elena nodded solemnly. “New family like Olga – good because my sisters never have taught me English.”
“That was very good, El,” Olga said. “There must be something you like about coming down here, even if the marriage isn’t what you hoped. He won’t live that long at any rate, if you’ve seen the way he eats.”
Both women giggled at that, and Kenna tried, but just couldn’t make any laughs come.
“The city’s beautiful, what little of it I’ve seen,” she said.
“Yes, yes, good. A beautiful place. Much more...ah...colorful, I think, than Munich. Good, what else?”
“Well I like both of you very much. I’ve been here less than a week and I already feel like you two will take care of me if anything happens.”
“For a sureness,” Elena said with another nod full of gravitas. “Yes.”
“And what else?” Olga said. “I know what you’re not saying.”
“You do?”
Olga’s hand felt good patting softly on Kenna’s back, just the way her mother did. “I don’t know what it is exactly, but I can see something in your eyes.”
“If you already know...”
“It will feel good to say, Miss Kenna. To know that someone else knows your secret, which isn’t much a secret at all if you pay attention.”
Kenna took a deep breath.
“Ach,” she said, “I guess there’s no reason to hide. It’s...”
“Love?”
Kenna nodded, and laid her head on Olga’s shoulder. “Yes, but worse than that.”
“Love is beautiful! What do you mean worse?”
“It is beautiful unless there’s nothing you can do about it.”
“Is it someone back home? Someone you’re afraid you’ll not see again?”
“No, he’s here. I didn’t know he was, but then he showed up last night, and-”
“Was he one of those three men that broke up Macdonald’s absurd little party? Goodness, but I did find that big one a handsome creature, though he seemed familiar. Which one was it? And how in the world did you fall for a man who lived a two-day ride from home?”