Chapter 19
KEIR PACED FROM his horse, tied to the MacLeods’ gate, to the iron door that was locked for the night.
“They should be here by now,”
Logan insisted.
“Our carriage left when theirs did.
Anabel was makin’ ’em wait, beratin’ the Beldorney maid assigned to help her.
We could all hear her caterwaulin’ after she learnt ye were missin’ along with—”
“Aye.
I can jist imagine her whinin’.”
Keir kicked at a clump of dirt.
“Ye dinnae ken the commotion yer runnin’ away wi’ the princess stirred.
They went ahead wi’ the ball, tellin’ folks Hannah, er Pascoe, was the princess.”
Logan cleared his throat.
“I danced the whole night with the imposter.
’Twas most disconcertin’ … given that I ken she’s a he.”
Keir looked at his brother.
“She coulda been the princess as easily as Eleanor.”
“Aye.
She was.
Er, he was.”
He made a gravelly sound in his throat.
“Fenella arranged to bring her—him—to Castle Caladh.
I guess she assured Pascoe … uh … we’d find Eleanor there.”
“I almost married Eleanor, Logan.
But the priest died before the vows were said.
’Twas the apoplexy what took him.”
He quickly explained how he took Eleanor away, how Luxbury and his men intercepted them, and burned the parchment Keir planned to use to protect Eleanor.
“But our clansmen sent those English buggers packin’.
All except Luxbury.
Father agreed to have him go with us to search for Eleanor’s mother.”
He snickered.
“We got separated.
The poor Sassenach is, per chance, in an Edinburgh jailhouse now.”
Logan nodded.
“And was that Eleanor’s mum back in the woods?”
“Aye.
And her mother’s son.
Did ye see who took Eleanor?”
Logan shook his head.
“It happened too fast.
’Twas some low country scoundrel.”
Keir huffed and strode back to Copper and remounted.
Copper gave a whinny and there was a distant answering call.
“Horses,”
Logan perked up.
“Could be the MacLeods’ carriage, now arrivin’.”
He gave his mare a long stroke on her neck.
A few minutes ticked by and they were rewarded with the sight of two lanterns dangling on either side of a large post-chaise driven by two men and followed by two more on horseback.
Keir called out his own name and his brother’s, identifying themselves as friendly, and backing their horses away from the gate.
The carriage stopped and its fusty male occupant burst out of the door.
Bram MacLeod.
“Ye’ve more nerve than an unbroke stallion showin’ yer face here, McKelvey.”
MacLeod held the door and growled over his shoulder at the ladies inside, “Ye keep yer seat, Anabel.
Callie, keep yer daughter still.
I forbid her to speak.”
He slammed the door shut and faced the McKelveys.
“What’s yer business here in the dead of night, man?”
Keir lifted his hat and held it against his chest, his other hand on Copper’s reins.
The horse nickered quietly as if warning his master to stay calm.
“Sire … the princess … she’s been abducted—”
MacLeod let loose a string of oaths before saying, “O’ course we ken she’s been stolen.
And by me daughter’s own betrothed, though that weddin’ will nivver take place as long as I live.
Keir McKelvey, ye’ve disgraced yer family name,”
he raised a fist, “and ye shan’t find any favors among the MacLeod clan.
Have ye come to find lodgin’ with yer princess hoor?”
He snorted in anger.
Keir’s tongue stuck tight as Copper pawed dirt with a front hoof.
The foul label MacLeod had used infuriated Keir.
He opened his mouth to protest, but Logan held up a shushing hand and twitched his gaze toward the coach.
Keir could see Anabel’s surly face catching lantern light as she poked it out the window.
Logan spoke for Keir.
“Me brother was protectin’ her, MacLeod.
They—the English insurrectionists—meant to … to use her.
Kill the queen and send Eleanor to the King’s bed.”
MacLeod’s brow furrowed more and he lowered his fist a few inches.
The darkness remained predominant under the vault of night yet they could each clearly see the other’s eyes.
Logan went on.
“Keir took her to her family … her mum … and then he was bringin’ ’em to Caladh when a highwayman nabbed her.
I saw it wi’ me own eyes.
We chased after ’em and lost the trail.
Can ye spare us yer men to help us search?”
MacLeod glanced at the driver and his mate and then at the two horsemen behind the carriage, his personal guards.
He answered addressing Logan and ignoring Keir, “Aye, ye can take young Will and Alpin, but give ’em time to saddle fresh mounts and raid the larder for a bite.
We’ve been travelin’ hard this day.”
The driver’s mate jumped down and opened the gate.
MacLeod looked to his wife and daughter whose faces were still visible, though they’d finally sat back from the window.
His wife smirked at him, her teeth flint grey in the dark.
He gave her a warning, “Now Callie, doan be a thinkin’ ’tis all patched up … her troubles … but these lads can have a bite alongside Will and Alpin.
If the cook’s asleep, have Anabel help ye.”
To Logan and Keir he said more severely, “Tie yer mounts at the trough and go inside, eat, and then go on yer trek.
Take the lanterns.”
He cleared his throat, somewhat appeased.
“Guid luck.”
***
HANNAH AND FENELLA fussed over Mary who was obviously hurt and confused.
They insisted that she and Colin sit inside the coach with them.
Little Huey, who’d been soundly sleeping before, now sat wiggling on Colin’s lap, asking question after question and ignoring Fenella’s shushing.
Hubert drove the carriage, snapping the reins on the backs of the horses as Jack trotted alongside.
They talked slightly louder than the sounds of the wheels and the clip-clopping.
“I’m ashamed of me father,”
Hubert said.
“I kent he was a big part of the plan, offering to train up a Hanover offspring.”
He repressed a laugh.
“Though I think Eleanor dinnae need much learnin’.
She has a spark about her.”
Jack agreed.
“And Hannah too.
Logan thinks he can woo her, but I danced with her as much as he did.”
Hubert shook his head, a sly smirk on his face.
“We’ll nay talk of yer mischief wi’ the … uh, the ladies.
I saw ye dance once with Anabel, too … a real bonnie lass.”
Jack’s face reddened and he pressed his knees tighter against his horse.
“Are ye plannin’ to leave yer family at Caladh and go after Keir? Or jist leave it to Logan? He shadows Keir whenever he can.”
He smirked.
“I’ll get a fairer chance with Hannah while he’s away.”
“Perhaps.”
Hubert groaned, “Och, ’tis gettin’ darker and I dinnae have a way to light the lanterns.”
Jack clucked at his horse and trotted out in front of the team.
“I’ll lead ye.
Me horse kens the way by day or by night.”
Inside the carriage, Huey finally settled down to play with a pair of round stones Colin produced from his pocket.
Mary answered Fenella’s last repeated question, “Aye, I havnae seen me dear little Eleanor since she was three.”
She glanced at Colin and measured her words.
“’Twas a long time ago, fer sure.
Do ye ken me daughter?”
“I met her a couple weeks past.
She was dressed as a lad at first, but I saw through the ruse.”
Fenella smiled at Mary.
“She’s a bonnie lass.
I like her.”
The carriage hit a particularly deep hole and they all bounced uncomfortably.
“Oh,”
Mary said, “I may be sick again.”
Her brows narrowed and she looked from Fenella to Hannah to Colin and then to little Huey.
“But where’s me daughter?”
Fenella exchanged a look with Hannah.
“Ye’ll see her soon.
Ye were knocked unconscious by a lone horse and rider.
We best tend to yer injury quickly.
We’re close to the McKelvey castle.”
“Castle?”
“Aye.
Castle Caladh.
Me sister Rory and me father, the Laird himself, will welcome ye and the lad.”
She patted Huey’s arm.
“And he’ll be verra happy to see his grandson, Huey.”
Mary put both hands to her temples.
“But Eleanor? Is she with Keir?”
“I’m sure she is.”
Fenella changed the subject, looking at Mary’s son, and addressing him.
“Nice of ye to let wee Huey play with yer river stones.”
She stuck her head closer to the window and yelled, “Hubert! Slow down, I almost skelped me heid off the carriage top.”
***
ELEANOR CURLED HERSELF into a ball on the pew and complained to Bernard that she might be sick again.
“I could go and look for help … wake the vicar … but I do not think it prudent to leave you alone here.”
His frown managed to scold and pity her simultaneously.
“Just rest a bit.
I … I need to tend to the horse.”
He strode out of the church as if he were wearing a stiff uniform and not dressed in peasant rags.
Eleanor lifted her head and studied the room.
Two brass candlesticks were the only things she determined could be used as weapons.
Bernard had her worried.
She put her head down again and tried to come up with a plan, but her thoughts were foggy.
When she heard him return, she closed her eyes and feigned sleep.
He spoke to her anyway.
“The horse needs water.
I could lead him.
Do you think you could ride?”
Eleanor stirred, pulled the blanket tighter, and groaned.
“You said before … about looking for a neighbor or the vicar … couldn’t you … couldn’t you go get help?”
Bernard shook his head.
“I shan’t leave you, Eleanor.”
He knelt beside her and ran a hand along her face.
“My dear …”
“My head hurts, Bernard, and my stomach is unwell and my shoulder feels like it was twisted off.
I don’t think I can ride; I’d fall off.
There must be a vicar or someone nearby.
How else did the candles get lit?”
Bernard drew his hand back and rose.
Even in the low light Eleanor could see his jaw clench.
“Yes, my princess, you are correct, but I pounded on the vicarage door and there was no answer.
Perhaps he is off serving at a deathbed or … drunk asleep.”
He moved to sit on the same pew beside her feet.
“It must be past midnight.
We shall both rest awhile and then we’ll be off.”
Eleanor drew her feet up away from him and sighed.
***
ANABEL KEPT HER nose in the air as she sliced a loaf of bread into four parts, shoving three of the pieces across the cook’s work table at Will, Alpin, and Logan, and dropping the fourth at Keir’s feet.
“Oh, how clumsy of me,”
she said, her voice shrill.
“I am not used to doing servant’s work.
Ye must excuse me.”
She watched Keir retrieve it, brush it off, tear off a bit and chew.
She turned toward the larder, stepped in, and stabbed a hunk of cheese with the knife she still held.
She came back out and pointed it first at Keir.
“Master McKelvey.
Ye can crumble off a piece, if ye will.”
As soon as his fingers touched the corner of the wedge, she let go of the knife.
It clattered to the stone floor, taking most of the cheese still attached.
“Oh, I beg fer yer pardon.”
She had removed her bonnet before and now she swung her loosened locks across her shoulders, doing her best to look innocent of any wrongdoing.
“I am meant to be served … like a princess …”
she caught Keir’s eye “… though I would never run off in such scandalous, outrageous, and shameful a manner as Princess Nora.”
Her posture was unnaturally stiff, her jaw tight.
“Such a disgrace.”
Her face paled and looked as if it had been stretched by cruel hands into a sharp chin point.
***
THERE WAS NO way Eleanor could relax enough to fall asleep.
Her head throbbed, her belly ached, and her arm twitched with shooting pain.
She lay with her eyes closed for as long as she could stand it, knowing quite well that Bernard was staring at her, his fingers playing with the edge of the horse blanket at her feet.
She suddenly threw the blanket off, gasping in pain from the movement, but quickly getting the words out of her mouth.
“All right.
We can go.
Perhaps I can walk beside the horse until we find a creek or a well.”
She flung a hand to her head, dizzy.
“Come then.”
Bernard helped her up, squeezing an arm around her a bit too possessively.
***
KEIR COAXED COPPER on, but the horse was leery of the lantern Keir held.
He handed it off to Logan and let him lead the way.
Alpin held the other lantern and Will trailed after.
“Here’s where we last saw tracks.”
Logan nodded at Keir, holding the lantern down by his boot and well out of his horse’s field of vision.
“Ah, there.
We missed that they veered off.”
He raised the lantern and pointed.
From behind, Alpin said, “Aye, ’tis the trail to the kirk, if ye be walkin’ and not ridin’ in a carriage, but a horse can make it through well enough.”
***
LUXBURY SET THE saddle back on the horse without the blanket and cinched it lightly.
Eleanor wrapped the blanket around her head and shoulders for warmth.
She walked alongside the horse and held onto the left stirrup to make Bernard think she was unsteady and needed the help.
He walked in front, leading the horse and holding a brass candlestick and candle he’d taken from the kirk.
The tiny flame lasted long enough for him to find the path past the graveyard, then a snort from the horse blew it out.
He swore and tossed the useless item to the ground.
The smell of wax brushed under Eleanor’s nose; the trees spiked the night sky above.
Eleanor heard the candle land, saw a moment’s worth of red glow from the wick before it too disappeared, and quickly retrieved the possible weapon without Bernard knowing.
She tucked it into the fold of blanket at her chest and argued with herself about whether to hit him on the head now or wait until they came upon a village or at least had some daylight.
Once their eyes adjusted it wasn’t hopeless, blind wandering.
She thought she saw bobbing light through the trees.
Closer.
A lantern.
Two lanterns.
A low hum of voices speaking in harmonic Scottish sounds with rolled r’s and an inflection at odds with the King’s English.
Bernard stopped the horse and Eleanor stumbled into him.
He grabbed her roughly, silencing her by putting a firm hand over her mouth.
But there was no way to silence his weary horse.
Its high-pitched neigh was an apparent greeting to the approaching horses.
“You will say nothing,”
Bernard hissed in Eleanor’s ear.
He lifted his hand from her mouth and took out his stolen pistol.
He pushed her in front of him and pressed the weapon to the middle of her back.
Peering over her head, he watched the lights come closer.
The front rider’s face was revealed.
Luxbury recognized Logan and assumed the big shadow behind him was that blasted Highlander.
And there were two more riders.
Luxbury pulled his hat lower to hide his own features.
He swore in Eleanor’s ear then whispered, “Bow your head, keep it covered, do not look up.”
***
ELEANOR FELT THE pistol’s pressure on her back waver.
She’d seen what Bernard had seen and her breath caught.
The lantern light revealed the thickness of the woodland they were in; there was little room to allow the approaching midnight riders to pass.
Logan’s voice called out.
“Hullo there.
Have ye seen a … whoa, what have ye there, man? Is that a woman with ye?”
“Jist be on yer way, friends.
Here, we’ll let ye pass.”
Bernard flung her stumbling to the side and pulled the nag with them.
They took several steps into the woods.
A jolt of panic electrified Eleanor’s nerves.
She stopped clutching the blanket and let it slip.
Bernard swore loudly, now sounding exactly like the English foreigner he was.
“’Tis them!”
Keir shouted.
He leaped from his horse.
“Stay back or I’ll shoot her.”
Eleanor let out a short squeal and collapsed as if fainting, but in that sudden move she also twisted and brought the candlestick up hard between his legs in such a way as to instantly incapacitate him.
Bernard crowed in pain and pulled the trigger, directly aiming at Keir.
But the pistol failed and he curled to the ground.
Eleanor raised the candlestick to do more damage, this time to her tormentor’s head, but stronger hands reached for her, pulled her away and up into sheltering arms.
There was commotion all around as three other men surrounded Luxbury, shouting and swearing, kicking and hitting, their lanterns left on the forest floor to send flickering shadows on horses’ hooves and on one Englishman’s humiliation.