Chapter Eight
“I have no idea what those papers and panels mean except that we have to leave for Scotland today.”
Christine twisted her fingers in her lap as Kerrigan paced in front of her. She was still reeling from watching him swing his fist at her uncle. “We have to wait to hear from Mr. Kendall.”
He stopped, placing his hands on his hips. “I have no idea what stunt yer uncle will pull next, and I have no intention of waiting here until we find out. I suggest we go to Kendall’s office now and get as much straightened out as we can. Then leave.”
“Won’t Uncle Carl just come after us?”
“Mayhap. But he will be in my country, with my laws. He can wave around all the papers he wants to, but they most likely will mean no’hing in Scotland.”
Suddenly energized, she hopped up. “Yes. I agree.”
Kerrigan had Stevens secure another hackney for them, and, watching their surroundings carefully, he escorted her down the steps. Her insides were twisted. Fear of her uncle, fear of what he could do, fear of facing what she’d known was to happen—her new life in another country with a husband she barely knew, and people she’d yet to meet, who might not accept an English wife for their laird.
Mr. Kendall’s secretary informed them that the solicitor was out of the office but was expected back shortly. She and Kerrigan decided to wait and made themselves comfortable. There seemed to be nothing else to do.
The three of them sat in silence, the ticking of the clock in the corner the only sound until footsteps broke the quiet and the door opened. Mr. Kendall took one look at them and said, “You must leave as quickly as possible.”
They stood and followed Mr. Kendall into his office. They took seats in front of the heavy oak desk, and he sat behind it. “Your uncle has managed to find a few cohorts to join him in this ridiculous objection to your marriage.”
“Aye, we are aware of it, which is why we are here. How close are ye to finishing up whatever business ye need to do?”
“Finished. As soon as I received notice that Lord Allenby was serving papers on you, I went to the bank and had them finish up the last of the steps. As of now you are free to go. The money has been transferred into an account bearing your name, Laird, and will be available at the bank you chose to use in Scotland.” He reached across the desk and handed him a rolled-up document.
Christine breathed a sigh of relief. There was no doubt that Uncle Carl was absolutely livid after his altercation with Kerrigan. She’d been subjected to some of his temper tantrums and knew he could get dangerous.
“I took the liberty of withdrawing funds for your travels.” He pulled a bag from his jacket pocket and handed it to Kerrigan.” He then turned to Christine, a soft smile on his face. “I have known you since you were a babe, Lady Lindsay. Your father was a wonderful man, who always wanted the best for you.” He glanced at Kerrigan. “I believe his wish has been granted.”
With tears in her eyes, Christine and Kerrigan left the office. Once settled in yet another hackney, Kerrigan said, “We will waste no time. Pack up as quickly as ye can and we will leave now. We can stop on the road at an inn right outside of London that I’m familiar with where we can stay the night and rent a carriage to take us all the way to Scotland.”
“How will we get to the inn?”
Kerrigan ran his fingers through his hair. “I have my horse, Fergus, with me that I rode to London, so he will have to carry the both of us.”
A sense of urgency started her heart thumping. Once the hackney came to a rolling stop, Kerrigan hopped out, paid the driver, and ushered Christine up the steps. “Pack lightly, lass, while I go to the mews and get Fergus ready.”
Christine raced upstairs, throwing a few things into Kerrigan’s satchel. She would be arriving at her new home as a pauper with very little clothing. Not wishing to part with her scented soaps and oils, she sacrificed a second pair of shoes to be able to smell good.
Kerrigan entered the room and headed to the satchel. “The horse is ready, so as soon as ye’re finished we’re leaving.” He threw a few items into the bag and said, “I’ve already told Stevens we would be leaving now. He has been instructed that if your uncle comes back to the townhouse to hold him off by pretending we are still in London.”
She nodded, her heart continuing to pound. She was even more frightened than she’d been when she’d dropped from her bedchamber window. Now she had more to lose. A husband she was fond of, and a chance at happiness.
After handing Stevens coins for himself and the other servants in the townhouse, Kerrigan hustled Christine down the steps to the horse standing in front of the building, ready for them. He secured the satchel onto the animal, tossed his wife up onto the saddle and jumped up behind her. Wrapping his arm around her waist, hugging her close, he headed north, leaving London behind.
The sky had darkened by the time they’d reached The Grouse and Bear Inn. He’d stayed there on his way to London and found the beds to be comfortable, the food tasty, and the innkeeper and his wife jovial and helpful.
A young lad greeted them as he swung his leg over the saddle. He helped Christine down, who looked very tired. After giving the stable lad instructions to take special care of Fergus because of the extra weight he’d carried, he led her into the inn. The innkeeper remembered him and greeted him warmly. “Is this the lovely bride you told us about on your way to London?” the man asked as he wiped his hands on a linen cloth.
“Aye. This is Lady Christine Lindsay.”
Christine offered the man a warm smile, but ’twas obvious from her demeanor that all she required was a meal and a soft bed.
“I have a nice bedchamber for you and your new wife, Laird. Shall I have your dinner sent up?”
“Aye, please.” He took Christine by the elbow and led her up the stairs behind the innkeeper.
“If you wish a bath, my lady, I can have one sent up for you.”
Christine’s entire demeanor changed. “Oh, thank you very much. A hot bath would be just the thing.”
The room was clean with a comfortable-looking bed. As much as she would have loved to just lay down and sleep, she knew she would rest better with a clean body and full stomach. Of course, she had very little in the way of clean clothes to change into.
She did have one travel gown in the rapidly packed satchel. “Do you think your wife can try to brush a dress clean for me?” she asked the innkeeper. There wouldn’t be so much road dust the rest of the way to Kerrigan’s home since they would be traveling in a carriage now.
“Of course. I will ask my wife to fetch it from you when she brings your meal.”
“Thank you,” she said.
Once the innkeeper left, she removed her cloak and dropped it in the chair next to a small table where they would most likely eat their supper.
“I am going downstairs to have an ale while ye take yer bath,” Kerrigan said.
She was grateful for him to do that because she wasn’t comfortable with him in the room while she undressed. “Thank you. I won’t take long.” She removed her shoes, and he made a fast exit.
Lying in the warm water was wonderful. She sat up and reached for her scented soap. And realized it was in her satchel. She climbed out of the tub and hurried over to where she left it and after rummaging around, pulled out the soap. Even with the small fire in the room, she had become chilled, but relaxed again when she slid down in the warm water.
Once she was warm again, she sat up to wash her body. No cleaning cloth. She looked over at the table where the innkeeper’s wife had placed the cloth. She splashed the water in frustration and again climbed from the warmth of the tub, rubbing her arms.
Back again, she sighed with pleasure, rubbing the sweet-smelling soap over the cloth and washing her body. When she was finished, she dipped her head into the water and rubbed soap over it. It was lovely to feel clean. With soap dripping down her face she realized there was no maid holding a bucket of clean water to dump over her head and body so she could rinse the soap off.
Whatever was she to do? She glanced down at the water which was now cold and soapy. How did women without maids take baths? She’d been given the services of a personal maid once she was out of the nursery.
She assumed that Kerrigan would be returning to the room soon. Here she sat, shivering, in slimy water, strands of soapy hair hanging down around her face. She had to rinse the soap off or she would be itching all night. Glancing down, she realized the only way to end up with a somewhat non-soapy head was to dunk it. Or wait for her husband to return and ask him to go to the kitchen and bring a bucket of clean water.
Shrugging, she dipped down and tried her best to swirl her hair to remove the soap. She came up guggling and spitting water. Anxious now to get out of the tub, she stood and groaned when she realized the drying cloth was on the chair next to the table where the washing cloth had been.
Just as she was stepping over the edge of the tub, the door opened, startling her. She turned, lost her balance and tumbled to the floor, landing on her hip. “Ouch!”
Kerrigan closed the door and hurried to her side. “Are ye well, lass?” She shook off the desire to ask him if he thought she looked well. “I hurt my hip.” She looked up at him, realizing her naked, wet, soapy body was on full display. “Can you get me the drying cloth over there?” she snapped.
He reached the chair in two strides and returned to her. Kneeling on one knee, he helped her up, as gently as possible. “Here, stand up and I’ll wrap ye in the linen.”
If only there was a hole in the floor she could crawl into. He shook out the cloth and wrapped it around her, then led her to the fire in the hearth. “Sit here and ye will warm up. I need to look at yer hip.”
God’s bones, she didn’t want to unwrap herself and have him poking around. “No, it was merely a bump, I am fine.” She sat in the chair attempting to dry herself off without removing the cloth.
“I will make use of the water and give myself a quick bath.” He began to remove his clothes as he spoke to her.
“It is rather soapy,” she said.
“’Tis fine. I’ll use the water in the jug on the dresser to rinse off.”
Christine closed her eyes and groaned.