Georgina shuffled uncomfortably in the carriage as the lashings of rain really began to pelt the roof, and the wind caused the ride to feel rocky as the horses battled against it with their heads down.
Soon after, the driver shouted that it was no use, that they must stop for shelter until the worst of it passed.
Morgan reluctantly agreed, the suggestion doing little for his short temper; “Oh, for heaven’s sake, this is utterly ridiculous.” Luckily, there was an inn not too far away and the driver managed to steer the carriage toward it fairly quickly.
“The sooner we get out of bloody Scotland the better,” Morgan complained as they pulled up outside of Leith Inn.
Morgan marched her to the front door as they tried to get out of the torrential rain as quickly as possible. Inside, the place was lovely and warm, a fire going in the corner which Georgina felt eased the chill that had taken hold of her.
Despite having gotten out of the asylum, Georgina still felt like a prisoner as Morgan held her arm to lead her across the room to sit in the armchairs by the fire. She wanted to throw all her thoughts and feelings at him, to tell him what she really thought of him, but it was futile. She knew how powerful he was, and now that they were alone together, she was fearful of him.
It wasn’t like being around Marcas and Conall, where she could share a joke with them and speak her mind. Morgan would only scorn such behavior.
She wondered how he had gotten her out of Greyfriars in the first place. Had he caved to the ransom demands of her captor? Or had his powerful network of men tipped him off as to her whereabouts?
Morgan waited for his assistant to come in from seeing to the horses before getting to his feet again. “Wilson, keep my lady company for dinner while I attend to business,” he commanded, without so much as a second glance at Georgina.
Suits me fine not to have to look at your ugly face.
While his features weren’t altogether hideous, the coldness in his eyes and the hardness in his face made her shudder to look at him. Is this what my life is to be? Answering to commands from this man and holding my tongue?
Despair set in as she contemplated this bleak future. She thought of Marcas, Conall and Fiona’s faces, a family where she’d truly felt like she’d fit in. Oh, why has all that been taken away from me?
Having dried off from the rain, Wilson made polite conversation with her about the weather and how she must be glad to be getting home.
“Why certainly,” Georgina answered blankly. The poor man had clearly picked up on the tension for he seemed nervous and at a loss of what to say. Luckily, the innkeeper strolled over to them with two hot plates of food soon after, Wilson’s face lighting up in relief.
Having not eaten a proper meal in some time, Georgina fell on her meal, not caring about her manners. If Morgan finds cause for complaint at this, then it’s tough luck for trying to control my life in the first place.
They ate in silence, Georgina savoring every bite and enjoying the warmth of the fire. “Nothing like a good meal to buck up the spirits, eh?” Wilson said as they placed their knives and forks down on empty plates.
“Oh, of course,” she agreed politely. If you only knew.
While she felt nourished from the dinner, her mood had hardly taken a 180 degree turn. The only up side being that Morgan wasn’t here with them.
As the evening wore on, the weather showed no signs of getting any better. A loud rumble outside announced a thunderstorm and Morgan grudgingly accepted the fact that they were here for the night.
“Wilson, let’s be ready to go first thing in the morning. I’ll not stand for anymore of this dillydallying,” Morgan snapped.
“What’s the rush?” Georgina asked, unable to hold her tongue. He seems awfully anxious to be out of here as fast as possible.
Morgan turned his foreboding gaze upon Georgina, his eyes became predatory as he drank in the sight of her wearing the dress and clothing he’d bought for her. Not that she’d had much choice after being admitted to the asylum in nothing but her nightgown.
“The sooner we get off Scottish land and back onto English soil the better,” he replied, “I do have an army to command after all.” His eyes darted about the place as he spoke, revealing a hidden worry of some sort.
“To command? Why, are you expecting to go into battle?” Georgina asked.
“This conversation topic is no place for a lady. Matters of battle are discussed between men, not divulged to our women. You’d do well to remember your place,” Morgan snapped at her curiosity with a cold finality.
Well, if you are intending to charge off into battle at least I’ll be rid of your company.
“Now, if you’d please retire to your room for the night, I need to speak with Wilson about the coming day’s arrangements,” he finished.
“Of course, Sir,” Georgina bowed her head and stood up, inferring an apology for her transgression but inwardly lacking any sincerity. Oh, just go stuff your boring rules.
The innkeeper was waiting by the door to show her upstairs, “Right this way, Madame,” he said warmly, making a sweeping gesture with his hand to show her the way.
“Thank you, sir,” Georgina said, following his lead up the stairs and to the rooms.
“I’ve set you up in here, you’ll have a good view of the Pentland Hills in the distance, well,” he paused to laugh, “on a half decent day that is. Perhaps the morning light will bring better clarity.”
She smiled politely, “Let’s hope so indeed,” she responded.
“Mr. Bolton requested our finest rooms, so I’ve put yourself in the best room we have,” he continued, “and Mr. Bolton will be placed at the end of the hallway just there.” She followed the nod of his head with her eyes.
Thank goodness, he’s far enough away from me that I don’t have to worry about being heard.
“Oh, that’s just wonderful, sir,” Georgina gushed, trying to put on her most charming disposition. “Would you possibly be able to tell me which region we are in? All this travelling around has gotten me positively disorientated.” She let out a gentle little laugh, warming his demeanor into a smile.
“Ah, of course, you won’t be used to the heathered landscape, Madame,” he indulged.
“Oh, please, call me Georgina,” she enthused, brushing her hand lightly on his arm.
“Oh, well then, Georgina,” he blushed, “we’re just south of Edinburgh. You’re well on your way to the border, probably another day of travelling and you’ll reach home.”
“I see, thank you indeed,” Georgina said. So Greyfriars was somewhere on the outskirts of Edinburgh from snatches of conversations she’d heard from the staff, which means they can’t have gotten very far.
“Would you perhaps have heard of an institution called Greyfriars? I have a friend who is a patient there, you see, and I’m just sick with worry. I was hoping to convince Morgan, Mr. Bolton that is, to stop by and pay her a visit in the morning before we depart for home,” Georgina said, trying to figure out which direction she’d come from.
“Ach, I’m sorry to hear that indeed Madame, I mean Georgina,” he said, his tone serious and apologetic. “As luck would have it, the place is only a couple of miles north of here. If you were to go straight through the woods and round the Pentlands, you’d be there in no time, but the road takes you on a big winding circle. Likely so that the Quoyburray Inn gets a fair enough footfall of travelers.”
She considered his words carefully. So, it could be possible that Marcas or Conall are still nearby. If she could perhaps send word to this Quoyburray Inn… or maybe she could sneak out in the night and make her way there all by herself.
“Would the Quoyburray Inn be the only Inn in the vicinity?” she asked.
“Aye, we’re the only other place nearby besides the city itself.” He said.
So that would be the most likely place to find them if they were close.
“Splendid, thank you so much for your help,” Georgina said.
&n
bsp; “Why it was a pleasure Georgina. I do wish you and Mr. Bolton all the best for your marriage. I’m sure you’ll be happy together,” he said politely before nodding farewell and heading back down the stairs.
Georgina waited for nightfall, listening out for Morgan’s footsteps as he retired to his own room for the night. She had absolutely no intention of staying put.
I did not escape his clutches only to end up back in the same situation. I’ll risk it all to get back to where I belong — in Marcas’ arms. If I could endure the asylum, then what’s a bit of rain and cold going to do?
She’d been working on a plan all evening long. Her journeys with Marcas and Conall had taught her how to ride a horse properly, how to stay warm and, most importantly, that she was capable of it if she only put her mind to the task.
Waiting for enough time to pass, wanting to make sure he was sound asleep, she heard a soft knock on her door. Frowning in confusion, she crept across the floor and tried to peer out through the keyhole to see who it was. It was too dark to make anything out however, so she had no choice but to open the door.
“Miss Andrews, come with me, quick,” Wilson whispered with urgency as he stood waiting at her doorframe.
She was too taken aback to say much at all, snatching up her shawl to protect her from the cold before obliging. There was something in his tone that suggested this command wasn’t Morgan’s doing. It’s lucky that I’m still dressed and was ready to go.
He glanced worriedly in the direction of Morgan’s door, holding his index finger to his lips to indicate that they should be quiet. She crept out of the room, closing the door as carefully as possible so as not to make a sound, tiptoeing after him down the hallway and the stairs.
She held her breath the entire way, on edge in case a sneeze or a cough gave them away. He lead her the opposite way from the dining area they’d previously occupied, toward the kitchens and through the staff entrance. The whole place was in darkness, the air heavy with sleep as the rest of the occupants rested for the night.
She felt herself relax now that they were a safe distance from the other rooms. Wilson indicated for her to pause, listening out for any potential movements from the floors above, but all was silent. Finally, they slipped out through the back door and standing waiting for them was Conall.
“Oh, Conall!” Georgina exclaimed, completely taken aback. “Oh, am I glad to see you!” Relief was sweet indeed, as she didn’t know if she’d ever see them again.
She flung her arms around him, letting go of all the pent-up tension and fear that she’d held inside her all this time, feeling his strong embrace catch it all and steady her.
Oh, thank goodness. Marcas must be nearby. Oh, my prayers have been answered.
“Right lass,” he said devoid of his usual light-heartedness, “As flattered as I am at yer show of affection, we’ve no time tae lose.”
“Wilson, my man,” he said as he vigorously shook the man’s hand and placed in it a pouch of coins, “I trust ye’ll be satisfied wi’ that.”
She watched Wilson peer inside the little leather pouch, his eyes flashing at the sight of the money. “Why, yes indeed, Sir McGowan, pleasure doing business with you,” Wilson said, bowing his head toward Conall.
“Ye’d best get back in there afore he notices anything amiss. Go ‘n’ delay the old fart as long as ye can in the mornin’,” Conall said to Wilson, his voice hinting at his usual tone of carefree laughter, unfazed in the face of adversity.
“Right you are Sir,” Wilson said, “Miss Andrews, it was a pleasure.” With that, he darted back inside the inn and carefully closed the service door.
“How on earth…?” Georgina was gobsmacked at this exchange. How on earth had Conall managed to bribe Wilson into doing his bidding right under Morgan’s thumb?
“Trust me, I can talk just about anybody into doing just about anything,” Conall answered with a wink.
“Come on then, the horse is waiting doon the road a piece, couldn’ae risk anyone hearin’ hooves coming and going,” Conall urged, holding his arm out for Georgina to take it before hurrying her through the dark, damp grounds.
They walked in silence for a while to be sure nobody heard them. There’s no way I’m risking Morgan hearing us. Oh, his face will sure be a picture tomorrow morning when he realizes that I’ve gone. Serves him right.
As the horse came into view, Georgina realized there was only one there waiting.
“Where’s Marcas?” she asked, the feeling of bliss dissipating quickly. She was so sure he’d be waiting here with the horses for Conall and her.
“He’s gotten injured lass,” Conall said matter-of-factly.
Georgina’s heart hammered, “What? Where is he? What happened?” She choked.
“He’ll be fine lass, no need tae get into a tizzy. There was a fight wi’ Bolton, weapons were drawn and Marcas came out worse for wear. We’ve got extra men on hand, he’s restin’ up at an inn and they’ll get on the road when he’s recovered,” Conall explained, Georgina feeling a twinge of discomfort at all this information.
This is all my fault. Oh, I hate Morgan. You’d better get what’s coming to you.
A combination of the shock of seeing Conall, the events of the past week, her overall tiredness, and now the news about Marcas caused a well of emotion to flood her. She felt her face heat and tears began to spill down her cheeks.
“Oh, why do all these bad things keep happening?” she burst out, “It’s all my fault Conall, I must be cursed or something. I-I-I…” too overwhelmed to continue, she succumbed to the tears, unable to do anything but sob into his hard-muscly chest as he drew her into his arms.
“shhh...there noo,” he soothed as she let it all out. “It’s nobody’s fault but that English bampot in there. Too much o’ a pussy tae admit defeat,” Conall said, even his insults having a soft edge to them. She felt so safe right now, like Conall could right all the wrongs in the world.
“Greetins gonnae do no good though, we need tae get on the road and fast,” Conall said, gently pulling away from her grasp.
Georgina wiped her cheeks with a handkerchief, blinking the tears away. He is right, no use standing here crying like a little girl. It won’t change Marcas’ injured state, nor everything that’s happened because of my escape.
“You’re right,” she croaked, “let’s just get out of here.”
She let him help her up onto the horse, wrapping her arms around him and leaning her head against his back as he led them forward and into the night. There was something incredibly comforting about being back on a horse with him, like she could finally relax knowing that she would come to no harm.
Will I ever get a good night’s rest? It felt like forever since she’d left her bed at Carnarvan that night.
While riding with Conall in the open night air was miles better than being locked away in that horrid institution or the dank dungeon before that, she longed for a proper bed to rest her head in. For now, cuddling into Conall on the back of his horse would have to do.
She inhaled his musky scent, nuzzling into the heat radiating from his body. Despite the bumpy feel of the horse as they sped across the countryside in the dark hour, Georgina let her eyes close and felt herself drift off, soothed by the rhythmic sound of the horse’s hooves.
She dozed on and off for much of the night, unable to fall into a proper sleep sitting upright, as the horse kept a steady fast pace. The snatches of sleep she did get were fraught with strange dreams which featured Morgan as the doctor keeping her imprisoned and the unnamed man who had locked her up as her husband to be.
I honestly don’t know which option would be worse. They’re both as vile and vicious as each other.
As the sun began to rise, Conall finally slowed the pace. “Are ye alright back there?” he asked.
“I’m rather tired but anything is better than being locked up in that place, or forced to be by Morgan’s side,” Georgina replied, failing to stifle a yawn as she spoke.
/> “Ach I ken, it’s a right horrid ordeal ye’ve been through this past week. I’m sorry that ye’ve been caught in the middle of the feud between me an' Bolton,” Conall said, his voice serious.
She didn’t know what to say, having never heard him speak so openly. He wasn’t the type to apologize for anything, his actions spoke of dominance, and nothing about him suggested regret. His confidence and outgoing demeanor was what made him so compelling, but this new softer side of him made her feel a warm glow flow through her.
“I should have taken better care tae make sure ye were safe in the castle, been more vigilant about spotting any strange folks around the village, or anybody looking suspicious,” he continued.
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