“You’ll forgive us I’m sure, sir, if your intentions are innocent,” said Beth, her knife in her hand. “But my husband here is a very suspicious man, and quick to anger. We need no assistance, and you’d be better to be on your way, sir. For your own sake.”
They waited until he had galloped out of earshot before continuing on their way.
“Do you think he was going to rob us?” asked Beth.
“I’m sure of it,” replied Maggie. “Nobody would turn his horse at night otherwise, and he was fumbling away in his coat. I’ve nae doubt he’d a knife or some weapon.”
They were even more vigilant after that, but arrived at Blackheath without further incident and dismounted outside a small, insignificant-looking building on the main street. It was one o’clock in the morning, and every house in the village was in darkness. Beth knocked on the door in a pattern, waited a minute and repeated it.
The door opened a crack, and a beaked nose could be seen in the shadows.
“Who is it?” asked a gruff voice.
“Mrs Abernathy,” replied Beth without hesitation. “I’ve an urgent message for Mr Foley.”
“Where’s your husband?” the man asked suspiciously.
“He couldn’t come. He has other urgent business.”
“Who’s this fellow with you, then?” he persisted.
Maggie lowered the scarf and smiled.
“Her cook,” she said.
The nose withdrew and the door opened. Beth walked in, followed by Maggie and the door closed immediately behind them, and was locked. There was a sound of flint striking tinder and then a candle was lit, giving a dim illumination to the hall and casting a dull glow off the pistol pointed at the two women by the man at the foot of the narrow stairway directly ahead of them. Maggie’s hand made a convulsive move in the direction of her belt, then stopped.
“Wait here,” said the beak-nosed man as though they had a choice, and disappeared up the stairs. The armed man regarded them in silence.
“Mr Foley’s not as welcoming as he used to be,” Beth remarked calmly.
“The times are changing, Miss,” he replied. “He’s as welcoming to his friends as he ever was.”
“Just not as certain who are his friends, I take it,” Beth added.
The man smiled. A minute or so passed, and then a door could be heard opening upstairs, followed by footsteps.
“Good evening, madam,” came a deep voice Beth recognised. “If you would be so kind as to remove the scarf from your hair, I would be most obliged.”
Beth reached up, and the unmistakable silver-blonde tresses were revealed. The atmosphere warmed by several degrees.
“I’m sorry, Mrs Abernathy,” said Gabriel, coming into the hall and taking her slender hand in his beefy one. He raised it to his lips, “but I am sure you will appreciate my need for caution. We live in dangerous times.”
“Indeed we do,” said Beth. “That’s why I’m here.”
Gabriel had just been about to invite them into his sitting room, but at these words he stopped.
“Is your husband taken?” he said urgently.
“No,” replied Maggie before Beth could. “Mine is.”
“For brawling in the street,” Beth added hurriedly. “The authorities don’t suspect any more. That’s why Mr Abernathy is not here himself; he’s securing the man’s release. But I have come to tell you that someone has come into information regarding my husband, and we must leave London.”
“When?” asked Gabriel.
“Tonight.”
Gabriel turned away and ushered them into his room, where he shut the door.
“Will he be arrested when this information comes out?” said Gabriel. Beth opened her mouth and he held up a hand. “I don’t wish to know the nature of the information, only as it relates to me,” he added.
“I know that,” said Beth. “Yes, he would be arrested. So would I. That’s why we don’t intend to wait for the authorities to pay us a call. I would think that our acquaintances will also be questioned.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” said Beth, thinking fast. “Nobody knows anything relevant. And about you, nothing. I came only to warn you that my husband can arrange payment for the goods you have, and that he would like you to ship them to Leith, if possible. And that if anyone else should come claiming to be anything to do with us, you should…”
“Kill them,” interrupted Gabriel.
“Treat them with the utmost suspicion, I was going to say,” said Beth. “But yes, I suppose so. We will not betray you.”
“I’m sure you won’t, intentionally,” said Gabriel in a voice which made the two women shiver, and Beth suddenly realise that Alex’s refusal to allow her to travel to Blackheath might have been based on more than fear of robbers along the road. “But nevertheless, if you’re arrested you will probably be brought to it, eventually.”
His back was to the door, and even if they succeeded in killing him they would never get out of the house alive. They waited for what seemed an interminable length of time for him to decide their fate, although in reality no more than a minute or so ticked by.
“Your husband must be desperate indeed to have sent two women, capable as you may be, to me, alone in the middle of the night. Did he not know the danger?” Gabriel asked.
“I’m sure he did,” Beth replied. “He refused to allow me to come, and said he would ride to you himself after he’d got his friend out of prison.”
“And you disobeyed him.”
“Yes. I wanted only to warn you, and to save the added risk to my husband in having to ride here. Time is something we don’t have to waste, but he wouldn’t leave without warning you, and neither would I. My friend here is an excellent shot, and I am adept with a knife. I thought I was aware of all the dangers, and that once here I would be safe, and so would my friend. Was I wrong to think that?”
He scrutinised her for a moment, and then smiled.
“No,” he conceded. “You’re quite remarkable women, both of you. You were not wrong. While you are here, you are safe. On your homeward journey you will be safe, too. Two of my men will escort you. I cannot guarantee your safety once we’ve delivered you to your husband, however. Will he be very angry?”
“Yes. But he’ll get over it, and he won’t lash me with anything more than his tongue,” said Beth, hoping that saying it aloud would make it so.
CHAPTER TWO
“No,” said Alex firmly.
“But why not?” Beth asked.
They were riding two abreast on a forest path, and as Maggie and Iain had fallen back to chat together, Beth thought it was an ideal time to broach the topic that had been occupying her thoughts all morning.
“Surely ye can see why not for yourself?” he said. “Our life as Sir Anthony and Lady Elizabeth is over. Everything’s been destroyed. I’ll no’ have evidence floating around that may incriminate us later. No.”
“But we can’t just disappear without at least letting the people we care about know why!”
“Aye, we can,” he stated flatly. “And we will. Within a day or two everyone’ll ken that we’ve disappeared. And soon enough they’ll start to realise why, too. I dinna intend to help them find us by informing them of our whereabouts myself, or letting you do it. I tellt that idiot beadle where I was going enough times for him to remember. It’s my hope that they’ll waste a few days scouring the Kent coast for us, expecting us to make for France. They’ll no’ be after doing that if ye write to Caroline from northern England, or Scotland. No.”
“But surely…?”
“Beth. I’m verra tired. Dinna try my patience. I’ve no’ much left with ye at the minute. Or wi’ Maggie, either.”
Saying it aloud to Gabriel Foley had not made it so. No sooner had they stepped through the door after thanking their smuggler escort for getting them home safely, than a furious Alex had seized both of them by the arm and hauled them into the library, where Iain was sitting binding
his sprained ankle tightly with strips of cloth. He looked up as the two women were propelled into the room, his mouth compressed into a tight angry line.
“What the hell d’ye think ye were doing?” Alex spat through gritted teeth.
“We left you a note…” Beth began tentatively.
“I ken well enough where ye were!” he roared. “I tellt you specifically no’ to go, and ye disobeyed me. Ye could have been killed!”
“But we weren’t,” said Beth unnecessarily, “And we’ve saved you the time…”
“Tae hell wi’ that! I’m your husband, and your chieftain.” He glared briefly at Maggie, who swallowed nervously. “When I order ye to do something, ye do it, without argument! Do you understand?”
“Yes,” said Beth coldly, although her temper was warming fast. “I understand. You think that women should sit at home meekly sewing a fine seam, while you have all the fun. Well Maggie can use a pistol and I can use a knife. We’re perfectly capable of looking after ourselves, as we’ve just proved. We knew exactly what we were doing.”
He stepped forward and took her by the shoulders, hard, his face white with rage, and in that moment she was certain he was going to hit her. He saw her pupils dilate, felt the tremor of fear and defiance shiver through her slender body and realised he couldn’t do it. Instead he shook her, hard enough to make her teeth rattle, holding her in a bruising grip.
“Fun,” he snarled.” D’ye think this is a game? Is that what ye think? Ye’ve seen a hanging. Did you think that was fun?”
“N-no,” she managed to stammer.
“Good. That’s something, at least.” He stopped shaking her, but maintained his painful grip on her shoulders. “D’ye think it’d be fun to be tortured into telling what ye ken? Now you’ll tell me they dinna use torture any more,” he said, although she hadn’t been going to say that at all, or anything else. Her head was spinning. “Ye’re right. They dinna use the rack, or the boot. But they’ll still beat ye, whip ye till your skin’s hanging in ribbons from your back, and, because ye’re a woman, they’ll probably rape ye, too. And you think that’s fun?”
He threw her from him, and she fetched up hard against the back of the sofa, clutching at it to stop herself from falling.
“It was my idea,” Maggie said softly. Iain looked up, shocked.
“What?” snapped Alex, who was trying to recover his temper. He had spent the last few hours in agony, knowing that they had got too much of a start for him to intercept them, and terrified that if highwaymen didn’t kill them, Foley would. To add to his frustration, there was more than one route to Foley’s; whilst Alex knew which would be the most practical one to use by night, he had no idea which one the women had chosen, and so could not follow them. The relief when they had walked through the door safe and sound had been immense, but had intensified the anger that followed it.
“It was my idea,” Maggie repeated. “I thought if I dressed as a man we’d be safe, and we could save ye some time. I’m sorry.”
Alex inhaled sharply through his nose, closed his eyes and counted to ten. When he opened them Iain was standing unsteadily, his face white.
“Alex,” he began.
“I’ll no’ hit your wife, man,” Alex said. “Much though she deserves it. Sit down. All of you.”
Maggie and Iain sat down. Beth remained where she was, from giddiness rather than defiance. Alex waited for a moment, then took her arm and pushed her down next to Maggie.
“I havena the time for this now,” he said, “but it’s important. This isna a game we’re playing. Ye should ken that by now, the both of ye. Ye should also ken that I’m no’ a tyrant. If I tell ye no’ to do something, I’ve a good reason for it, which is nothing to do wi’ depriving you of fun. If I’ve the time, I’ll explain it to ye. If I havena, ye’ll have to take my word for it. But I’ll no’ be disobeyed again. Ye could endanger us all. It didna occur to ye that Foley might decide to kill you, did it?” He looked at his wife, who wavered under the intensity of emotion she saw in his eyes.
“No,” she said softly. “Not until we were there.”
“Aye,” he said. “And do you think that if he had, and ye’d no’ returned home Iain and I would have given ye up and ridden blithely off to Charlie?”
“I hadn’t thought of that,” she said.
“No. Ye hadna. But I had. And that’s why I tellt ye no’ to go. I ken full well when ye can look after yourselves. And when ye canna. Ye were lucky tonight. And now you’re going to swear to me, both of you, that ye’ll no’ disobey a direct order from me again. Because if you do, and by some chance come through it unscathed, I’ll flog the pair of ye, just as I would any clansman who ignored me. I’ve nae wish to beat a woman so badly, but I will, an ye drive me to it.”
He had been deadly serious. And what was more, he had been in the right. They had sworn, and then they had finished packing, and had ridden out of London just as the sky was paling slightly in the east.
They rode hard all day, and by the time they stopped for the night they were all completely exhausted. But they were also more than sixty miles north of London, and as there was a good possibility that the Earl of Highbury was still holding his son, they put up at a comfortable inn for the night, where the beds were soft and the rooms vermin-free, although Beth thought she could easily have slept on the stone floor, she was so tired.
She woke just before daybreak and lay still, listening to Alex’s regular breathing, and then to the sound of a lone blackbird heralding the dawn. Then his breathing changed and she realised he was awake, and snuggled closer in to him. His arm curled round her automatically, warm and comforting.
“I’m sorry,” she said simply.
“Aye. So am I. Did I hurt ye?” he asked.
“Only a bit. I thought you were going to hit me,” she replied.
“So did I. But I’m glad I didna. Or I will be, if ye keep your word.”
“I will,” she said. “I won’t write to Caroline, if you don’t want me to.”
He reached over and with his free hand gently stroked the hair away from her face. Then he kissed her softly on the forehead.
“It isna that I dinna want to, Beth. I feel bad about Caroline and Edwin. And Anne too, to a lesser extent. But they’ll no’ forgive us, whatever we write to them. And it’s too risky.”
“I’m worried about Sarah, too. And the others, in Manchester. Do you think they’ll be questioned?”
“Aye, maybe,” Alex said. “But they canna say anything that’ll help the authorities to find us. If we’re caught, Sarah could say that she kent we were Catholics, but no’ much more.”
“She wouldn’t do that,” said Beth with conviction. “Do you think we will be caught?”
“No, no’ unless we’re stupid. But I’ll be a lot happier when we’re in Scotland, and happier still when we reach the others. There’s another reason I dinna want ye to write to Caroline, or anyone else, though.”
“What’s that?”
“Before we left London, we burnt everything that could incriminate us. That’ll no’ make a lot of difference to me. But ye’re my wife. Ye have to do what I say, by law. If we’re arrested, you can say that I forced ye to come wi’ me when I left, and that ye were too afraid of me to run away. Ye canna say that, if ye’ve written to someone explaining why we ran. Any letter you write will be used against you.”
“No one who knew me would believe that I was too afraid to run away from you, letter or no,” Beth said.
“Aye, they would, if ye play it right. You’re a good actress, now. And you’re beautiful, and small, and frail-looking. And the men who’ll question ye will expect a woman to be weak and stupid and obey her husband. If you’re clever, and ye are, ye could end up going free.”
Beth thought about this for a minute, trying not to be distracted by his hand, soft on her hair.
“But no matter how stupid I was, and how little I claimed to know about anything, they’d still expect me to tell them e
verything I knew about you, what you look like, your real name, that sort of thing.”
“Aye, well, that wouldna be a problem, if I was sitting in the next cell.”
“And if you weren’t?”
“It still wouldna be a problem. I would want ye to save yourself. Ye dinna have to incriminate anyone else. It’ll be me they’ll want.”
She sat up suddenly, dislodging his hand, and looked down at the pale blur which was all she could see of his face in the dim light. A floorboard creaked as someone walked past the room. The inn was waking.
“No,” she said. “Don’t order me to do this, Alex, because I won’t. I won’t betray you, or anyone else for that matter, to save myself, not for anything. I’d die first.”
“Beth,” he said, reaching up to pull her back down to him. She winced as he accidentally touched her bruised shoulder and he let her go. “It probably willna make any difference to me anyway.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But if you were captured, and I was free, would you tell them what you knew about me, if there was the slightest chance I’d be caught as a result?”
“Of course I wouldna. But it’s different…”
“No, it’s not. Lots of things are different between us, Alex, but this isn’t. I know what I’ve got myself into. If I’m caught I’ll accept the consequences and hang or burn, or whatever they decide to do to me. Without giving you up. Last night I swore to obey you without question if you order me to do something, and I will. But not in this. Anything else, but not this.”
He could see it was useless to explain further. And besides, the fact that she loved him enough to die for him moved him beyond words, wiping out everything but the urgent need to make love to her, which he did, and to protect her, which he intended to do, whatever the cost.
She was the wife of the man who had made a fool of the king, and Alex knew that if they caught her they would certainly break her to find out what she knew, whatever they had to do and however long it took. He would kill her himself before he let them do that.
The Storm Breaks (The Jacobite Chronicles Book 4) Page 5