“I would like that very much Simon, thank you,” I said gratefully.
“It will be my pleasure. I look forward to seeing you wear it,” he said with genuine sincerity.
That night we camped in the barren hills of the Northumbrian moorland. It was a cold night and the moon shone brightly from a cloudless sky. The ground was icy beneath us as we huddled like spoons together for comfort and warmth under a thick woolen blanket. We tried to sleep, but Simon could not settle for worry of highwaymen. His constant uneasy shifting kept me as much from sleep as it did him and I knew that he would not rest now until we reached Newcastle.
“Simon?” I whispered, feeling him move against me. “Simon, are you awake?”
He grunted irritability. “Aye, I am awake.”
“Why don’t we give up on sleep and pack up the camp? You are so restless that I can’t sleep and I am sure you are not getting much sleep with all the moving you are doing.”
“Aye, I can’t sleep well tonight,” he said, rolling onto his side. Facing me he draped his arm across my waist.
“Shall I saddle Percy?” I asked.
“I can think of other things I would rather be doing,” he said, the meaning of his words becoming abundantly clear as he slid the point of his finger up the small of my back.
“No Simon, you don’t want to be doing that now. If we ride now you will get to Newcastle much sooner.”
He kissed my forehead gently. “You are a very lovely creature, do you know that?” he said his voice thick with desire.
I smiled back at him with a glint of promise in my eyes. “Is that so, Simon?”
“Come here,” he said, grabbing my arm and drawing me against him. “I have no interest in Newcastle just now,” he whispered.
“Well what do you have an interest in then?” I asked in feigned ignorance. He laughed a deep throaty laugh.
“Do you really need me to spell it out for you lass?” he said, dropping his head to my raised nipples, kissing them lightly through the thin cotton shirt. “How would you like me to show you just what I have an interest in?” he asked, sliding his hand through the gap in my shirt and circling the tight peaks of my breast. A moan escaped my throat as he slid the corner of the shirt off my shoulder. “You are mine wee Corran, and I intend to have you.”
******
CHAPTER 10
We rode into Newcastle three days later. Its coal industry boomed around us like a giant black monster. Its wide airy streets and tall brick built houses with their chimneys tirelessly smoking the fumes of the black fuel.
Simon pulled the reins to the side, steering the horse toward the marketplace in Newgate Street. I gasped in shock, staring wide eyed at a set of gallows on which a young woman stood before a jeering crowd, her face sodden and stained by tears of hysteria and terror.
“Don’t look,” he whispered, his arm closing around me for support. I drew a sharp, silent breath as the hangman dropped a looped rope around her head. She struggled frantically, pulling at the ropes that bound her hands behind her back.
“Why are they going to hang her?” I asked my voice panicked with terror.
“I have no idea Corran, but it’s not our business,” he said firmly, tightening his arms protectively around me.
“Simon, she is only a girl. She can’t be as old as I am,” I protested.
“Hush! I told you, it is not our business and I am not about to make it so.”
“But Simon we can’t just sit here and watch her hang.”
“Now listen to me, Corran, I am not planning on telling you again. We stay out of this. Do you hear me?” he warned, as a coal wagon clunked nosily past us, dropping lumps of its load into the road as it went. I looked down from our vantage point on the horse and noticed a beggar man chasing the wagon, frantically collecting its spill. A vast amount of ragged traders hustled their goods, the old and crippled lay abandoned in their own filth; tiny half-starved, urchins littered the streets with their mothers, half-dressed, peddling the oldest trade known to man; and then my eyes traveled back up to the young girl on the gallows. I watched in frozen bewilderment as the wealthy, well-fed and dressed men and women paraded their way through the streets, their purposes unaltered by the carnage through which they walked.
We found a room in a modern inn; the building and design totally embodied the outward prosperity of the city. Our room was lavishly furnished, boasting the largest canopied four poster bed I had ever seen. Its bedding so opulent and heavy in material, color and design that I had to wonder how Simon was planning to pay for the room.
A large fire fueled by the black gold that paved the city streets warmed the room. The mantle displayed a lavish woodcarving of entwined roses etched on a lattice background of imitation lace. Some of the flowers were splayed, boldly blooming their treasures for all to see. Others lay shyly in the shadows of their companions, their petals tightly closed to the eyes of the world, their mysteries hidden for another day. Then, finally, the buds on the brink of blossom; their secrets half-revealed, half-hidden, offered a tantalizing hint of the promise they held within. It all matched perfectly with the floral lacework pattern of the paper which lined the walls of the room.
“Would you like to come with me and see if we can find you that dress?” he asked soon after we had arrived in the room.
“That would be nice Simon, thank you,” I replied, still staring wide eyed and open mouthed at the opulence of the decor.
“You can close your mouth now,” he said smiling down at me.
“It all looks very expensive,” I said rather pathetically.
“That’s good then,” he said, “because it is all very expensive.”
“Simon I really don’t mean to nag,” I started, as he opened his mouth to interrupt me.
“But you are going to do so anyway, aren’t you?” he finished.
I sighed, realizing that he was right, but unable to help myself. “It’s only that I can’t help but wonder how we are going to pay for all this. I mean, you can’t want to waste the gold on one night’s comfort and we have no other money to speak of?”
“Well I have enough money to buy you a new gown and that is what I would like to do now,” he said, ignoring my question.
My hands went to my hips and a frown creased my brow. “Simon, will you please tell me where you are planning to get the money to pay for all this,” I said, my voice becoming high and shrill with frustration.
“You know you are quite beautiful when you are mad,” he said, moving toward me.
I stood my ground refusing to let him distract me. His hands encircled my waist and he pulled me hard against him. “I think you need to take this shirt and trousers off,” he said.
I pulled at his arms, trying to wriggle free. Tightening his hold on me he lifted me off the ground and dropped me on the bed. I smiled as I scrambled, playfully trying to avoid him, but he grabbed my wrists in his hand. I squirmed as he lowered himself on top of me; dropping his head he kissed me hard.
“You want me now then?” he groaned.
I nodded helplessly, my eyes fixed on his strong, taut shoulders. He smiled down at me, kneeling and leaning onto his thighs, straddling my legs.
“Dear God but you are beautiful,” he said, as he brushed a golden lock of hair from my face.
We lay together naked on the great four poster bed, its curtains draped around us. The crackle of the coal fire was the only sound, save for the gentle rhythmic rasp of our deep breathing. He held his arm out for me and I slid my head into its crook, my tangled hair splayed untidily behind me.
“You are so wicked,” he said, lifting his head to kiss my forehead.
“I am not,” I feigned in protest. Giggling and squirming I pretended to wriggle away from him. He pulled his arm from around me and rolled to tower above me, pinning my body beneath him.
“Oh, yes, you are,” he said.
We slept then, for how long I do not know, but when we awoke, night had fallen. The only light in t
he room was a dim glow from the smoldering coals of the fire. He kissed me lightly and then rose from the bed, making his way toward a water jug and bowl.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“I am going to have a wash and shave.”
“You are going to shave, now?” I questioned. “What point is there in shaving now?”
“There is something I must do,” he said, pouring water from the jug into the bowl, “And it will be better achieved if I don’t look like I have just had a lass in bed with me.”
I frowned at him, growing annoyed. “What could you possibly have to do at this hour?” He ignored my question and reached for his blade.
“I will have the innkeeper send you something to eat,” he said absently.
“Oh, well, thanks for that, it explains everything,” I said, pulling the sheets of the bed up under my chin in anger. “Why won’t you tell me where you are going?”
He put his blade down and turned to face me, his eyes veiled and mysterious. “Because it is better that you don’t know.”
I was somewhat surprised to hear another knock on the door, an hour or so after Simon had left. I opened the door cautiously to the sight of two young men and a large wooden tub of warm water.
“Oh,” I said, staring at them pathetically. “Is that for me?” They nodded. “Well I guess you had better bring it in then,” I said, moving aside to let them through the door.
“Where do you want it, miss?” The younger of the two men asked.
I nodded at the fireplace. “By the fire please.”
“Is there anything else we can do for you, miss?” the other lad asked, his tone a little too friendly for my liking. I turned to face him and caught his eyes lingering over the swell of my breasts.
“No, thank you. I am fine,” I said, hoping they would both leave.
“Are you sure you won’t be needing any help with your bathing miss?” The older man tried again. I was growing uneasy now.
“No,” I repeated with as much confidence as I could muster. “I would like you both to leave now,” I finished firmly. The younger man turned to go.
“Come on Alec, you have had your fun, leave the lady be now,” he said grabbing the older man’s arm.
“I bid you goodnight Miss,” the man called Alec said, tipping an imaginary cap and to my relief, turning to follow his friend’s lead. At the door Alec stopped to look at me, a cheeky grin filling his face. “Don’t forget, miss, if you are feeling a bit lonely and in need of a companion, I would be more than happy to help you make use of that there tub.”
I shut the door forcibly behind them and stood with my back resting against it for support. “Dear God what could Simon have been thinking sending those two up here with a bath,” I whispered, but only the walls could hear me.
The water was a glorious distraction from my earlier thoughts and together with the warm meal and a sip or two of whisky it was not long before I found myself struggling to keep my eyes open. Eventually, overcome by tiredness, I sank naked into the bed and slept, hoping that when I awoke Simon would have returned.
As it happened, he did return before daybreak. I awoke as he slid into the bed beside me. I opened my eyes and smiled across at him. “Are you alright?” I said, not sure whether to ask how his evening had been or not.
“All is well lass,” he said, reaching his arm out for me.
“Are you going to tell me where you have been?” I said.
“Yes Corran,” he sighed, “I can tell you where I have been now.”
I looked at him expectantly; unconvinced that I was going to like what he had to say. “I have been gambling,” he said simply. My eyes shot wide open and I stared at him in horror as the truth behind his words took meaning.
“What money did you use to gamble with?” I asked, knowing the answer before he gave it.
“The gold,” he said simply.
“You gambled the gold! But why did you do that Simon? Why would you risk so much?”
“It was the only way to acquire money that I can use. The gold is nice to have but I can hardly use it to pay for food or inns. Without it I would not have been able to play for the high stakes that won us this,” he said, reaching under his pillow and removing a package. My mouth dropped open as he emptied the package onto the bed between us.
“There must be three hundred pounds here at least?” I stammered.
“At least,” he said, a smile twitching at the side of my mouth.
A thought crossed my mind. “Tell me something Simon?” I said. “Before you went off gambling with the gold, did you have the money to pay for this room?”
He shook his head, slowly. “No, of course I didn’t have the money. But now we do so you don’t need to worry.” I frowned reproachfully at him.
“What would we have done if you had lost the gold?” I asked growing slightly hysterically.
“We would have had to leave very quickly and quietly,” he replied flippantly. “But I didn’t lose the gold and now we have a lot more money than we did earlier,” he paused, his eyes serious for the first time. Reaching across the bed, he took my hand in his, turning it palm up he kissed it gently. “We won’t be able to stay around here much longer. The people I took this money off are not too happy about it. I should think they would much rather have taken the gold off me than give me their money,” he paused, reaching for his flask on the table beside the bed and taking a small sip. “I will be very surprised if they don’t yet try to take the gold and the money from me.” He offered me the flask. I shook my head, so he turned to replace it on the table. “Tomorrow, I will get you a new gown and you can sew the gold into my trousers, and then wee Corran we must leave this city.”
I understood why he had gambled but that did not change the fact that he had taken a great risk. Further to that, I knew he was right in his assumption that the people off whom he had won the money were almost certain to want it back. I also wondered if he had planned all along to come to Newcastle purely for the gambling.
“We will have to be very careful even once we leave here. There are a lot of people who know about the gold now and a fair few who know about the money as well,” he smiled boastfully. I was outraged with his arrogance and conceit.
His mood took my mind back to the nights before the massacre. I recalled the banter and games between the men of the village and the soldiers. Although outwardly friendly, their games always ended with the winners displaying the same delighted euphoria over their good fortune and triumphs and I wondered if all men shared the same primeval need to outdo and better each other.
We left the inn early the following morning, moving quickly through the streets of the city, acquiring what we needed with as little fuss as possible. Some time just before midday, we finally headed back toward the inn.
“Corran, I don’t mean to worry you and don’t look just now but we are being followed,” he said, taking my hand in his and increasing our pace.
“Is it the money?” I asked.
“Aye,” he replied, skewing the side of his mouth and biting thoughtfully on his bottom lip.
“Simon, what are we going to do?”
“Don’t worry, just keep walking.”
I did as he asked but was surprised when we did not turn down the road that led to our inn. “Simon, aren’t we going back to the inn?”
“No, we are not.”
“Where are we going then?”
“Just for once, Corran, please don’t question me. I really don’t have the time for it just now.” His voice was stern enough to leave me in no doubt that the conversation was over.
He let go of my hand and bent his arm at the elbow. “Slip your hand into my arm,” he said.
I did as he asked. “Don’t look down,” he said, as his other hand rose up, sliding something into the hand I had hooked in his arm. It was the gold; I could feel its heavy weight in the palm of my hand. “Now take your hand away from my arm and put that somewhere safe. We are going to split up.
It’s me they think has the gold. When I tell you to, turn left, don’t look back and don’t stop for anything,” he paused, “Oh, and don’t go back to the inn. I will meet you back at the marketplace. If I am not there in an hour take the gold and go to the blacksmiths I took you to earlier. Ask for a man by the name of Jimmy and tell him that you are Mrs. Lamont, come for your husband’s work. He will give you a package. It will contain the deeds. Take them, Corran, and go to York. Pass yourself off as Mrs. Lamont, you will find the house in the region of a place called Stonegate.”
I felt more than saw them closing in on us and so, apparently, did Simon. He grabbed for my hand squeezed it hard and glanced swiftly across at me. “Ready lass?”
I nodded. “Simon, be careful.”
“Now go,” he whispered.
I let go of his hand and took the alley to my left. I risked a glance over my shoulder and caught sight of a man coming up behind Simon, pulling a knife from his belt. My legs went weak and my knees buckled.
“Simon!” I screamed at the top of my voice. The man turned his head toward me.
“Kill him!” he shouted, lifting his hand in my direction. Two men who had come up behind him turned to run toward me.
“Run Corran!” I heard Simon cry in pain as I turned to make my escape, but the men were upon me. One had his arm around my neck, dragging me into the alley. I could feel the sharp edge of a blade pressing down on my throat. The other man was coming toward me, his eyes dark and hungry for the kill. I could feel the thumping of my heart in my head and the shaking of my body as the man stood before me.
“A woman dressed as a man, aye?” he said, pulling at the ties of my shirt. He moved his head forwards to kiss me and I tried to turn my head away. The man with his arm around my neck tightened his hold, and pushed the knife harder against the side of my neck. I took his warning and closed my eyes in resigned acceptance of impending death. I could smell the rank, heavy aroma of his breath and choked back an urge to be sick.
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