“Oh Dear God, please no,” I cried silently, shaking with despair and shock. “They will hang him for sure they will,” I whispered to the empty room.
“Whatever is the matter lass?” I swung round to see him standing in the doorway, a look of grave concern on his face.
“I thought... ” I stammered, “I mean, I thought they had caught you.”
He smiled down at me. “Oh ye of little faith, whatever made you think I had been caught?”
“I heard them, outside the window, talking about the Red Coat, saying he had been murdered and it was another Red Coat,” I said, tears running down my face.
“You shouldn’t jump to so many conclusions. Come now, stop your crying,” he said, handing me a folded cotton handkerchief. I wiped my eyes and rubbed my nose, looking gravely into his face. “I will tell you later about it. Don’t worry now; they will not look for me for this death.” He reached out and took my hands pulling me gently to my feet. “I see you have got us some dinner,” he said, nodding at the table.
“It’s cold now,” I replied simply.
“That doesn’t matter,” he said, sitting down at the table and picking up a spoon.
I watched him in amazement. “How can you just sit there and eat a meal when you have just killed a man?” I cried, anger boiling inside me.
He raised his head slowly, rubbing his temple. “I didn’t say I killed him,” he said simply.
“But... ” I was interrupted as he leaned across the table and pressed a finger over my lips.
“I didn’t kill him because someone else did.”
“Who?” I asked, staring at him, eyes wide as saucepans.
“Another soldier killed him. He was gambling and it got out of hand.” He got up from his chair and walked across to the window. “It was my voice you heard in the street,” he paused, the look on his face grim as a winter’s night. “I was making sure that the man who did it was caught for it.” I moved to stand beside him, sliding my hand into his.
“But why are you so concerned that he is caught?” I asked.
“Because he also knows more than I would like him to. I would rather the Crown hangs him for murder than have to kill him myself.”
He drew his hand from mine and put his arm around my waist, turning so that we faced each other. He pulled me so close that I could feel the muscles of his body pressing against me, and the firm grasp of his arms around me. He bent and kissed me gently on the neck. “It’s time to finish this,” he said in a thick husky whisper.
I closed my eyes as he lifted my chin with his forefinger and covered my lips with his. My world was swept away on an intoxicating wave of passion as he lightly kissed the side of my neck and ran his hands along the curve of my waist. Gently he held me away from him. His breath was heavy and his jaw tense as he rubbed his hands through his hair in frustration.
“What’s wrong Simon?” I asked, confused.
“Nothing is wrong,” he whispered, his eyes dark with passion. “You know Corran that I am a man of the world?” he paused, turning to pick up his flask. “That there are things you cannot undo once done?” He stood holding the flask, looking down, questioningly into my eyes, as if the answers he sought could be found in their depths. He took a long sip of his flask, savoring the taste of the liquid as it ran down his throat.
“Simon, I don’t understand. What have I done wrong?”
He did not answer me; instead he stood staring at me, his eyes scanning my face, dropping to linger over the swell of my breasts. “Christ, but you are beautiful Corran,” he groaned, shaking his head in despair and running his fingers along the line of my jaw. “I am sorry lass, but I just can’t do it to you,” he said, suddenly turning from me, he picked up his hat and moved toward the door. Standing in front of it, he stared back at me, his hand hovering over the handle. “I am not made of steel, but by God around you I wish I were.” He turned the handle and opened the door.
“Please don’t go Simon,” I begged, my eyes filling with tears of rejection. “What have I done?” I whispered softly.
“I won’t be long, go to bed,” he said abruptly, and with that he was gone.
I sat at the table looking into the embers of the fire, watching their gentle glow. I brushed my fingers over my lips, remembering the feel of his mouth on mine as we had kissed.
******
CHAPTER 8
There was no mention of our kiss or explanation of his sudden departure the next morning when I followed him to the docks. The docks were a bustle of noise and activity. Ships with their tall empty masts swayed patiently on the water. The smell of rotting seaweed and fish hung heavily in the damp morning air. Simon pointed toward a large vessel with three masts, bobbing teasingly in the water, some way from the dock. “Can you see out there? That’s our ship.”
Squinting against the early sun, I nodded as the great vessel came into view. It was a magnificent, sleek ship with high sides and an even higher stern.
“It looks very big.”
“It is a very big ship, and it’s owned by some very wealthy people.”
“What is so special about the cargo?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“It’s gold and jewels, stolen from the great wealth of Europe.”
My mouth dropped open in shocked surprise as I stood staring at him. “Simon, what about pirates?”
“What about them?”
“Well, if we have a cargo that is as valuable as you say it is, surely we will be a target for pirates?”
“I can’t say that they won’t be a problem to us, but that ship has seventy-odd guns. Thirty or so are mounted on each side of the ship and countless swing guns are mounted along the rail, along with archers on fighting platforms to prevent anyone wanting to board us. I should think we will have a better chance than most.”
Regardless of how impressive it all sounded, a knot of terror tightened in my stomach. “How many people will be on the ship?” I asked, hoping that I had not betrayed my terror.
“I expect around two hundred and fifty men. Why do you ask?”
“I was just thinking that it is a long time to spend with strangers,” I replied.
“I won’t lie to you, Corran; cabins are not part of the structure of the ship. The walls are designed so that they can be taken down, in case you need to run the guns for battle, or to fit in more merchandise. Even the captain’s cabin can be taken apart if needs be. It won’t be fancy.”
We stood in silence, watching the smaller boats in dock, each of us with our own thoughts, expectations and fears. Eventually, Simon took my arm and we made to leave the docks, pushing our way through the crowds of beggars, cripples, sailors and merchants and headed back toward the city.
“We should get you some clothes to travel in,” he said as we cleared the mass of bodies around the docks.
“That is very kind, but we don’t have the money to spend,” I argued.
“Oh Corran, trust me will you,” he said laughing, “right now that is one thing we have plenty of.”
I raised my eyebrows in question. “We have?” He smiled down at me, a look of contented triumph in his eyes. “Tell me then, where have we got all this money from?” I asked.
His smile broadened and he took my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Well apart from the money we acquired from the military riders and a few coins for the horse, I made a fair sum gambling in the tavern a day or so back.”
I screwed up my nose and shook my head. “We must have spent most of the money we got from the transport riders on the room by now,” I paused thoughtfully. “So you must have made a very good sum gambling then?”
Simon frowned disapprovingly at me. “You think too much,” he paused, rubbing his forehead in consideration. “Well if you really must know,” he said, drawing a long breath. “Mr. Marshall has paid me a very fair sum in advance for services yet to be rendered.” He slid his hand into his coat pocket and removed a tightly clenched fist. Discreetly he opened his h
and to display a rough yellow lump of gold.
“Oh my, Simon, is that what I think it is?” I gasped in surprise.
He lowered his voice to a whisper, “Aye, if you are thinking its gold then you would be right.”
I stopped walking and turned to him, my look deadly serious. “Mr. Marshall never gave you that? Simon you have done nothing for him yet.”
He sighed heavily, slipping the nugget back into its hiding place. “Aye, you are right, he didn’t exactly give it to me. However, he won’t miss it either.”
“But what if he does, Simon?”
“I told you, he won’t miss it. And besides, there is plenty more where this came from,” he said, clearly becoming frustrated with me.
“Please don’t take risks, Simon?”
“Trust me, will you woman?” he said.
We drifted down the cobbled streets, taking delight in everything we saw, every tiny detail of each small wonder of this new and exciting world. He bought me a heavy long woolen cloak and the daintiest pair of shoes I had ever seen. My eyes twinkled with pleasure and I sighed deeply, intoxicated with the sheer opulence of the city. As the afternoon began to fade we headed back through the crowded city toward the inn. On arrival at our room Simon paused with his hand hovering over the door handle. “I have to meet with Mr. Marshall this evening. Will you be alright alone for an hour or so?”
I smiled up at him, my eyes still gleaming with the excitement of the day. “Of course I will be fine Simon.”
“I won’t be long,” he said, opening the door and depositing our acquisitions on the table. He turned and stood looking at me for a moment, as if he meant to say something, but he didn’t. At last he picked up his hat and went to the door.
Several hours later he had still not returned. Exhausted, I slid in between the cold sheets of the bed. I was awakened sometime just before dawn by the sound of the bedroom door opening. My first reaction was delight as I sat up quickly, wiping my eyes and trying to focus in the dim light of the room. He walked slowly into the room and across to the jug. Filling the bowl with water he wet his face, picked up a towel and wiped it dry. Fear swept over me as I watched him. “Simon, whatever is the matter?” I said, throwing the covers off the bed and moving toward him.
He turned slowly to face me. “It’s a damn mess.”
“What Simon? What is a mess, what has happened?”
He put his hands around my waist and drew me toward him, lowering his head, his mouth pressed against the top of my head. “It’s the ship; it cannot be docked for at least two weeks. They’ve got the plague on board.”
“Sorry, Simon, I don’t understand,” I said, confused.
“It’s the sickness. Ships are a breeding ground for it. Many sailors get ill in ports, and then in close quarters the sickness spreads through the ship. They can’t dock here for fear of bringing it to the city.”
I moved away from him, to look at his face. His eyes were dark, drawn and troubled. I smiled up at him. “Why not just wait till the sickness has passed?” I asked naively.
He shook his head. “No.”
“Why? I don’t understand,” I said.
“Because,” he said, and then paused, meeting my eyes, “the Red Coats are here in force.”
I stared at him, paralyzed with shock. “What are we to do?” I asked eventually, allowing him to wrap his arms around me. I felt warm and safe, pressed against him, his arms solid and strong around me.
“We have to leave and we have to do it now.” he said simply. “I have the gold and twenty pounds. That’s more than enough to get us away from here.” He let go of me and moved to stand in front of the dying fire.
“Simon, how will we get out of the city?” I asked, my mind swimming with fear.
“We will travel by horse.” He raised his arm and massaged the tight muscles of the back of his neck. “The Red Coats are all over the city. Our escape won’t be an easy one. If we are captured, remember that no matter what happens, you must never mention that you are from Glencoe. You must say that I have taken you against your will.” He turned to face me, his eyes meeting mine. “Do you understand me? If you don’t listen to me then they will hang you for sure.”
“I understand Simon.” I choked, fighting desperately to hold back the tears. “Simon, where did you get twenty pounds from?” I stammered.
Clearing his throat he put his hands on my shoulders.
“That doesn’t matter; the important thing is that we have it.” He slid his hand into his coat pocket. “Put out your hand.” I did as he said. He took his hand from his pocket and opened it over my palm. Turning it toward me, he dropped the gold nugget into the palm of my hand.
“Keep that, you may have need of it.”
My hands were shaking as I closed my fingers over its weight. “I am frightened, Simon,” I whispered, so quietly that I could hardly even hear my own voice.
He covered my fist with his hand and smiled down at me. “It will be alright, we will get out of here. You have just got to trust me.”
I nodded, lifting my eyes to his. “I do trust you Simon,” I said simply.
“Good, then we need to leave.” He threw a pair of trousers and shirt at me.
“I am sorry, but they are so much more practical for travel. Put them on.” I did as he said without complaint; my hands shaking so much I couldn’t do up the ties of the shirt. Silently he moved toward me and tenderly took hold of my arms, moving them gently away; he tied the shirt for me. “Tie up your hair and put this bonnet on,” he said, tossing a black bonnet onto the bed. I watched him as he hurriedly squeezed as much as he could into saddlebags. “Right lass, I’m done. Are you ready?” I nodded nervously, moving to take hold of his arm. “We will need to leave separately; you don’t want the innkeeper to recognize you dressed like that. He is sure to smell a rat if he does. I will go down first. You watch the window for my signal, then come down, but try not to be noticed. If you are seen, don’t speak; just pull the bonnet down over your eyes.”
He grabbed the bags and pushed a roll top pistol into the belt of his trousers before putting his long black coat on. He left the room. I stood, frozen, watching the closed shutters of the window, praying that we would not get caught. I moved slowly toward the shutters, opening them as cautiously as if they were about to explode in my face. My eyes scanned the street frantically for him, but he was not there.
A flurry of activity burst on the street in the form of a group of men who ran, shouting and chanting down the street toward the inn. I knew with the instincts of a hunted animal that they were coming for me. Then I saw the Red Coats behind the group of men, their polished bayonets shining in the light of the moon. I slammed the shutters closed and pressed my back against them, breathing shallowly, shaking with fear. I tried to move my feet but they were frozen to the floor. My heart pounded. The room was swaying and I knew that I had to run. My feet felt like lead weights, but with desperate concentration and effort they moved, slowly at first, then with the fear and panic of utter desperation I felt myself running toward the door then out on to the narrow landing. I stopped still, hardly daring to breath at the top of the stairs. I could hear voices heading my way.
“Oh dear God, where do I go?” I whispered. The stairs were my only way out, so I took a deep breath and ran down them, reaching the bottom just in time to see the mob burst through the door of the inn. I ducked around a corner, my back pressed hard against the wall. I could hear them shouting at the innkeeper.
“Quick, they are up there,” said one of them.
I turned toward my left to see the door to the kitchen, and slid through it. The room was in darkness, no one was around. I grabbed at a door that lead into a courtyard at the back of the inn, slipping through it into the night air.
“They’ve gone out the back!” I heard someone shout and the pounding of the men’s boots on the wooden floorboards headed in my direction as the mob turned. I ran out of the courtyard and into the street, heading toward the d
arkness of the docks. The sounds grew fainter the more ground I covered but I did not pause or look back. The ground blurred beneath me as I ran blindly into someone, bouncing backwards to land hard on the ground. I looked up, struggling to breath and trembling, to see an arm extended. I took the hand, only realizing once I was standing that it was Simon.
“Oh dear God, Simon, what has happened?”I asked, as he put his fingers to his lips.
“Shhh, Corran,” he whispered, “We must go.”
“Where is the horse Simon?”
“We can’t use it now, it’s too dangerous.”
“How are we going to get out of the city then?” I whispered, trying to hold my voice steady.
“We will do it in a boat but we haven’t time to spare, we must go now.”
Obediently, I followed him away from the docks and onto the lonely sandy shore of the beach. Clinging to the coastline we headed east of the city, stopping eventually by a deserted castle at the mouth of the River Tay. Simon led us to the entrance of a cave below the castle in the side of the hill. My eyes fought to adjust in the pitch darkness. I put my hand out to feel my way, recoiling in revulsion as I touched the slimy rocks from which water oozed. The cave led to an underground passageway that ran along the coast and under the castle. I stumbled on a rock and Simon tightened his hold on my hand.
“Almost there,” he said encouragingly.
“Where are we going?” I panted.
“To catch a boat,” he said. I found this answer most unsatisfactory but decided not to pursue the matter, mostly due to the fact that I found running and talking more effort than it seemed worth.
“This is the meeting point,” he said, eventually halting our sprint through the passageway. I had no idea how he could distinguish any signal or reference point to suggest that this place was any different to where we had been ten minutes ago. I found it impossible to respond, still gasping for breath and shivering with cold.
“I will be back for you in a few minutes, wait here,” he ordered, striding off further down the tunnel. A few moments later, a small torch flickered in the passageway and Simon’s face came dimly into view. He was strolling toward me, calmly and confidently. “Come, they are ready for us,” he said, removing his pistol from his belt. He held out his left hand and I reached forward and took it nervously.
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