Cat snorted. “Like ye could move me.” She crossed her arms and glared.
“The English could take you,” Evelyn said. “On some false reason.”
“Ye need someone who can throw a dirk,” Cat said, leaning into the seat, as if she were literally digging in her heels.
Evelyn settled next to Scarlet. “James has a musket.”
“Which will be useless if rain puts out the flame,” Cat said and rapped on the roof. “Let us away!”
James’s face appeared upside down in the window. “I told Thomas to stay back.”
“Wise,” Evelyn said.
“Let us away,” Cat repeated. “It’s up the main road, north. Hurry.”
Evelyn nodded to James, and his face disappeared above, as he clicked to the two horses. They rocked forward and rolled out of the gates. If all went well, they’d be back with Isabel before Grey even realized they were gone.
…
“I will be back later this evening,” Grey said to Rebecca.
“He’s doing much better now,” Rebecca said. “I keep changing out the snails and piping feverfew into him. His skin is cool again.”
He cut a last glance toward his best friend, who slept on his stomach. “Send for me if ye need anything.” Turning, he trudged out into the late morning, the tension in his chest lessened after seeing Aiden’s improvement. He stretched his arms overhead as he walked through the woods, his mind drifting to Evelyn, the sweetest tasting lass he’d ever known. He’d kissed her in the dark alcove one last time after their tryst in the kitchen.
Grey paused in his stride and ran a hand down his face. Damn, he’d forgotten to wipe up the smashed tarts. As soon as Evelyn had disappeared up the steps, Kerrick had come into the hall, and they’d walked together, discussing the new wall, and then he’d gone to check on Aiden. If the maid had come across the mess, Evelyn would flush from her tiny toes to her scalp. He’d make it up to her tonight. He smiled and began to whistle a quick little tune from Beltane.
Evelyn—a proper school matron on the outside, a carnal and passionate goddess on the inside. Her courage and determination had called to him from the moment she refused to move off his front steps, even with the point of a sword at her breast. And yet she worried that he would see her as weak for a few shed tears.
Grey walked out from the forest line and waved to Kerrick, who talked with Craig at the smithy. As he strode over, the sound of wagon wheels pulled his gaze toward the far end of the lane. Not a wagon but a carriage, and the only carriage in Killin was the one that had carried Evelyn here. His mouth tightened, cutting off his whistle.
“Where is the Worthington coach going?” he asked Kerrick as he walked up.
Craig chuckled. “With some luck, back to England.”
They watched it disappear around a bend farther up. “Nay,” Kerrick said. “They head north.”
“She’d have no reason to seek out Donald at Balloch Castle or the Menzies clan,” Craig said, his voice dropping. His eyes narrowed under his bushy brows. “She’s going to the English compound, to Cross.”
“For what purpose?” Kerrick asked, turning toward Craig, his face hard with annoyance.
“To complain about us,” Craig said, gesturing toward Grey. “Trying to get ye out of Finlarig for good.”
The old man had no idea how ridiculous his accusation was, and Grey wasn’t about to waste time trying to turn his poor opinion. Not when Evelyn might be riding into the devil’s den. Without another word, he turned on his heel and jogged off toward Finlarig. He heard Kerrick following. His friend lengthened his stride to run alongside.
They reached the open gate. “Ho,” Hamish yelled down, his arm raised.
“Was Evelyn in the carriage that left?” Grey yelled up.
Hamish turned to climb down the ladder, taking his damn time to walk over. Grey nearly abandoned the man to run to the stable for Adhar, but Hamish picked up his pace. “They were taking Cat back to her cottage, Lady Evelyn and Lady Scarlet.”
“Cat doesn’t live north of Killin,” Kerrick said, frowning at Grey. “Her cottage is due west and hidden in the forest. A carriage wouldn’t even be able to get back there.”
Hamish rubbed his beard. “North, ye say? Aye, ye’re right. Perhaps they were just going for a ride first. Cat’s probably never been inside a coach before.”
“Evelyn should be teaching class this afternoon,” Grey said, his voice low.
“Aye,” Hamish said, frowning. “Two lasses walked inside.”
Grey’s hands fisted. “Alana wasn’t with Evelyn?”
“Nay, just their man, James, and the three ladies.”
Grey strode forward, taking the steps up to the keep in two large leaps. His palm cupped the pommel of his sword, his warrior’s instincts alert, making his blood pump faster. “Alana,” he called as he walked into the great hall, but it was empty. He passed the table where half-empty bowls of tea sat and took the steps two at a time up to the second floor.
Inside the library, Alana was handing primer books to the girls. “Where did Evelyn go?” he asked. “And her sister and Cat?”
Alana stared at him, and tried to frown at his interruption, but the uncertainty in her eyes made her look nervous. “Cat’s house.”
Anger hardened his features as he stared at his sister. “They are riding north. Cat lives west.”
The two girls from the village looked back and forth between them. Alana squared her shoulders. “I don’t know, then. They said they were going for a ride and would see Cat home. I was to stay here to help Fiona and Martha with their letters.” As if sensing her unease, Ceò came to stand next to her. No matter that Grey made sure the dog, her puppies, and her mate were fed, the dog’s loyalty remained with Alana.
Kerrick came inside from the corridor. “What was Cat even doing here? She made it plain that she wasn’t interested in learning from a Sassenach.”
Alana’s mouth opened and closed, and then she shrugged. “She came to see if Izzy was about.” Her lips clamped shut. Grey knew what his sister’s anxiety looked like, and it almost always stemmed from the English.
“They are going to Cross,” Grey said. “To the English stronghold.”
“I didn’t say that,” Alana said, her face falling.
“Why?” Grey asked, stepping closer to her. “’Tis dangerous there.”
Alana grabbed his arm, her nails digging through the sleeve of his shirt. “Don’t go running after them with your sword drawn,” she said, her voice high. “Evelyn says they will shoot ye.”
“Bloody hell,” Kerrick said. “Why the hell would they go to Cross?”
“Promise me,” Alana said, meeting Grey’s gaze. “Don’t go running in there. Cross will use any excuse to kill ye.”
Grey pierced his sister’s gaze. After Evelyn’s confrontation with Burdock and then Cross’s cold reception, he knew she wouldn’t ride into their lair without a good reason. “What does the bastard have that Evelyn is going to get back?” But as the question came from his mouth, the pieces fell together. Cat climbing into an Englishwoman’s carriage. Evelyn racing north. Grey hadn’t seen Izzy all morning.
He dropped Alana’s arms and turned toward the door. “Cross has Izzy.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Stay inside the carriage,” Evelyn said, piercing Cat with her fiercest glare. “I don’t want to have to get you out of here, too.”
Cat’s face pinched in mutiny, but she didn’t deny the logic in remaining behind. James opened the door, and Evelyn put her hand in his to step out. Scarlet slid over on the seat to follow, holding up a hand when Evelyn turned to her.
“Strength in numbers, sister,” Scarlet said.
Evelyn huffed softly but let James help her down. In their haste to leave, she hadn’t had time to don a fashionable dress. In fact, the dress she wore had bilberry smeared across the back. At least she’d rewound her hair into a knot at her nape.
James squeezed her fingers. “I will come w
ith you. I have my musket.”
She smiled confidently at him. “We will be fine. These are Englishmen, not our enemy.”
One of his gray eyebrows rose, silently questioning her statement.
A central square was surrounded by wooden barracks. Three lines of men stood at attention with their muskets on their shoulders. A guard tower soared above the tree line off to the left where a uniformed soldier watched. She could feel his stare and lifted her chin. Stares didn’t bother her. She’d survived thundering and piercing stares from her father. One thing Lord Benjamin Worthington had taught his daughter was how to stand before a noose without showing any outward sign of concern.
A soldier stepped from a two-story rectangular building, which backed up to the forest on the right. The English flag snapped in the breeze on top. He wore a brightly colored uniform and a smile across his clean-shaven, young face. “Hello,” he said, striding over. He bowed his head in greeting. “I am Ensign Morris. Are you in need of assistance?”
“Thank you, yes,” Evelyn said and tipped her head forward in greeting. “I am Lady Evelyn Worthington, and this is my sister, Lady Scarlet.”
“The ladies of the Highland Roses Parish School,” he said, his smile fading. “Is there trouble at Finlarig?”
“Yes. I would speak with Captain Cross about the abduction of one of my young students, just this morning.”
“Good Lord,” Ensign Morris said, his eyes widening. “I will call a group together to retrieve the girl.”
“Wonderful,” Evelyn said smoothly. “Her name is Isabel Campbell, and she was taken, without her consent, by your Lieutenant Marcus Burdock.”
“Lieutenant Burdock?” the ensign said, his face hardening. Did he think she lied?
Evelyn drew herself up in her most regal manner, spine straight as a needle, chin tipped high so that her gaze looked down on the man even though he was nearly a foot taller than she. “Yes, and I would speak with Captain Cross immediately about the man’s villainous ways and the recovery of my charge.”
The door behind the ensign opened, and Captain Cross emerged, a folded sheaf of paper under one arm. He strode directly toward them.
“Captain,” Evelyn said, giving him a curt tip of her head. “I am here to recover my student, Isabel Campbell, who was stolen from outside her sister’s home by your Lieutenant Burdock.”
Captain Cross gave a small nod, his hand rising to stroke his pointed beard. “A pleasure to see you again, Lady Evelyn. I hope that your school is growing as you’d hoped.”
“My charge, Captain,” Evelyn said, her mouth pinched in annoyance.
“Will be here until she answers questions related to why she attacked one of my soldiers.”
“She is a child,” Evelyn said through stacked teeth. “And she does not speak, so she will not be able to answer your questions. Bring her out to me now, or I will send immediately to my brother for assistance. He has the ear of King Charles, and when parliament is reconvened he could be a great ally to you, or a great enemy.” She laid the threat directly before him.
“We have quite a number of friends at court,” Scarlet said, her voice sounding royal. “Any one of them would be happy to assist when a child is in jeopardy from none other than their own English army.” She shook her head, calling him to task.
“She is a Scottish chit, and she attacked an English soldier.”
Evelyn took a step closer to Cross and glared. “With pebbles at a full-grown man with a musket.” She tipped her head to the side. “How will that look to Queen Catherine when I write to her about you and your defense of Lieutenant Burdock?”
Captain Cross’s face relaxed into something close to boredom. “Your threats do not sway me,” he said. “However…” He pulled the paper from under his arm. It looked to be a gazette. “Since I see that you are now officially betrothed to Lord Philip Sotheby of London, a respected man of great influence, I am persuaded to overlook the child’s crime, since you, Lady Evelyn, are her matron.”
“Officially betrothed?” Evelyn said, the question falling from her parted lips. Her stomach turned to stone inside. How could it be? Nathaniel had said he’d delay Philip, at least for another month.
“Yes,” Cross said, his eyebrow going up in question. “The banns have been posted in the London Gazette.” He unfolded the pages, reading. “Lady Evelyn Worthington and Sir Philip Sotheby, to be wed this spring.” He turned the tip of his knobby nose toward Evelyn. “This was dated a fortnight ago. Were you not aware?”
Scarlet made a small choking noise, mirroring the strangle-like hold on Evelyn’s throat. Heart pounding, Evelyn fought to smooth her features, pushing the disaster behind her for the time being. Isabel was still in enemy hands.
She cleared her throat, waving a hand dismissively. It would have looked more noble if she had worn her pristine white gloves, but they were back at Finlarig with clean gowns, free of berry stains. “A matter of miscommunication on my brother’s part, I’m sure. With the welfare of my student in jeopardy, I will follow up with that later.” She met his squinted eyes directly. “Now, where is Isabel Campbell?”
He held her gaze, and she pressed her tongue behind her teeth, waiting. “Let us talk about this inside, out of the breeze,” he said.
“Tell me where my student is being kept,” she said. She didn’t dare glance at the carriage where Cat sat. Hopefully she would stay out of trouble.
A dark smile pressed upward between the trimmed whiskers on Cross’s face. “I was questioning her in my office when you arrived.” He quirked his head in a slight bow and turned his hand upward to indicate the double story building from which he’d emerged.
Before he could offer his arm, which she’d rather entertain nausea than take, Evelyn took Scarlet’s arm, drawing her along as she strode without preamble toward the captain’s headquarters. Ensign Morris came even with them. “Right this way, ladies,” he said, his voice anxious.
Did he know that he worked for the devil? One who described people as vermin and locked them up in a burning castle? One who let his lieutenant harass local women and steal children without a word of reprimand? With Englishmen like Cross and Burdock close by, it was no wonder that the residents of Killin despised England and everything related to it.
As Evelyn reached for the handrail at the bottom of the stairs, a movement beyond the building caught her eye. There in the shadows, wearing the deadliest of frowns, stood Grey. The toe of her slipper caught on the bottom step, and if it hadn’t been for Scarlet, Evelyn would have fallen on her face. With Scarlet’s gentle tug, Evelyn glanced back, but Grey was gone. She blinked, forcing herself to breathe.
So, he hadn’t run headlong into the English camp, brandishing his sword, like she’d envisioned. He could be angry with her later for not telling him. Right now, the knowledge that he was somewhere close, close and free, made her feel safer as she walked into the devil’s den.
The building was made of old wood, as if the planks had come from another home, or perhaps a barn, to fashion an office for the company’s command. Upstairs was most likely living quarters for the officers. Had Isabel been taken to Burdock’s bedroom? Evelyn exhaled in silent relief as Ensign Morris passed the steps, leading them toward a door at the far end.
“’Tis interesting that the girl doesn’t speak,” Cross said, walking inside. He took a shortbread cookie from a plate on the table next to a cup of what looked like tea. He bit into it, chewing before them. “What is wrong with her?” he asked and swallowed.
“Her father was murdered, and she watched her mother die of a broken heart,” Scarlet said, disdain in her voice.
“Is she inside?” Evelyn said, going to the door. “Isabel, are you in there? It’s Evelyn.”
“Murdered fathers do not cause one to go dumb.” Cross threw back the rest of his tea in one gulp.
Evelyn looked to Ensign Morris as she jiggled the knob. “Unlock the door.”
“You need to teach the little savage not to throw rock
s at people,” Cross said and nodded to Ensign Morris.
“And you, Captain, need to teach your men not to attack women and steal away children,” Evelyn said with unconcealed contempt. “There was no reason for Lieutenant Burdock to even be out near her sister’s cottage.” The lock clicked, and Evelyn pressed forward into the room. “Isabel?”
She stopped in the center, her feet on the woven red carpet before the large desk that must be Captain Cross’s. “Isabel?” She turned in a tight circle, inhaling the lingering smell of pipe tobacco. “Where is she?”
Cross used his arms to push Ensign Morris aside as he surged into the room. “Why that sly fox.” He rushed to the window that was raised halfway. “But I had her wrists tied.” He turned, his fingers out wide as he set his palms flat on his desk, his eyes scanning the documents he had laid out.
“Good God,” Scarlet said. “You tied up a little girl. Shame on you.” She turned to Evelyn. “We will surely report this to Nathaniel and King Charles.”
Evelyn rounded on Captain Cross. “If anything has happened to her, the fault will be yours for her poor treatment while in your care. And I expect a formal reprimand of Lieutenant Burdock. See that he stays out of Killin and the surrounding area.”
Cross’s eyes narrowed, all attempts at civility slipping away from his stance, making a tingle of chills race up to Evelyn’s nape. “You have become their champion then,” he said, his voice rough. “Even though I understand it was you who ordered they be burned out of their home.”
“What?” Evelyn took a step back as if slapped. “I did no such thing.”
“Your brother’s solicitor wrote back that the Lady Evelyn suggested smoking out the Scottish vermin. ’Twas your words that spurred me to action.” His gaze dropped back to his desk, scanning the many papers as if he searched for the solicitor’s damning letter.
“She had no idea that you referred to people as vermin,” Scarlet said, and took Evelyn’s arm, though she barely felt the tug, as her limbs had grown numb, her breaths shallow.
The Scottish Rogue Page 23