CHAPTER TWO #2
Gavin raised a dismissive hand. “There’s plenty of Elliots and Grahams in Eskdale who’d pledge their right hands for a chance to ride with us.”
Rob Elliot warned, “Beaumont Hall belongs to a Border Warden, who’s also Cumberland’s nephew.”
“With so many families riding into England, the warden will have his hands full. And you’ll have the element of surprise on your side,” Douglas pointed out. “Fortune favors the bold. You could sell the horses in Langholm and get rid of the evidence.”
Gavin looked at Neil. “You go and feel out the Grahams, and I’ll have a word with the Elliots. We’ve no time to waste. Tomorrow night there’ll be moonlight.”
~~~
Douglas waited until her younger brother Rob went off to the stables, then she went to his chamber and took from a trunk a pair of breeches and an old leather jack he had outgrown.
She bundled them up and hid them beneath her bed.
She was an Elliot to her very bones, and she had made up her mind that if they went on a raid across the Border tonight, she would be riding with them.
To pass the time until dark descended, Douglas took herself off to the kitchen.
The aroma of baking bread filled the air, and she decided that she would make a treacle pudding.
Meg, the rosy-cheeked cook handed her a pot of lard, a lump of suet, a sack of flour, and a rolling pin.
When Meg went to the pantry to find a jar of treacle, Douglas slipped a sharp kitchen knife down her boot.
That night at dinner, Douglas counted two dozen extra men, all Elliots and Grahams who lived along the River Esk. She noticed that Gavin kept an eye on the ale that was served. He allowed them enough to give them courage, but not an excess that would make them intoxicated.
After dinner, they stretched out on the flagstones of the hall, casting dice, and passing the time until the moon rose.
Douglas yawned and bade them all goodnight.
She dished out a plate of treacle pudding and carried it upstairs with her.
She sat down on her bed to eat it and fortify herself against the cold ride through the dark fells.
She shivered with excitement as she braided her long hair and wrapped the plaits around her head.
She changed into the breeks and leather jack, knowing that this would be the sort of night that would make her glad she was alive.
From her window she could watch the rising moon, and when she saw the shadowy figures of the men silently heading toward the stables, excitement ran along her veins as she anticipated the raid that lay ahead.
Her plan was to wait until they had all gone.
It would be easy to catch up with them and ride at the back of the pack.
She opened a dresser drawer and took out a beaver bonnet.
She pulled it on her head and tucked in her plaits, then she went to her mirror to make sure there were no telltale red tendrils sticking out.
As she examined her reflection, she saw the image of Lance Greystoke in its silver depths.
His dark eyes were accusing, and she glanced away quickly, determined to banish the English noble from her thoughts.
When she approached the stables, all was silent.
A stable lad approached, and she waved him off with a masculine gesture.
She saddled her Border pony, mounted, and trotted out into the castle bailey.
She hugged the mare with her knees and pulled up the collar of her leather jack to keep out the wind.
It was a cold night, but as she galloped along the river, the excitement of her adventure kept her warm, and she stifled the urge to throw back her head and laugh with glee.
It didn’t take her long to catch up with the others. Their hoofbeats were muffled by the grass, but the silhouettes of the thirty-odd riders were visible in the moonlit shadows.
She caught up with them and rode beside her brother Rob until they got near the English Border. Finally, he recognized her pony. “Christ, Douglas, what the hell are ye about?”
“I scouted the horses at Beaumont. It was my idea to take them before anybody else made off with them. I’m an Elliot. There’s no way I’d let you leave me behind.”
“Best keep yer mouth shut. If Gavin finds out, he’ll give ye a thrashin’.”
The riders slowed their pace as they spotted about a hundred mounted men ahead of them. “That’ll be the Johnstons on their way to Cargo. Best not let them see us, if we don’t want the Beaumont thoroughbreds snatched from under our noses.”
She nodded and drew rein until the Johnstons put some distance between them.
Her heart began to pound from the heightened danger of the raid now that they were about to cross over into England.
What if Greystoke is at Beaumont defending his property?
A goose walked over her grave and she shivered.
“Rob, promise me you won’t use your pistol! ”
“Not unless I have to,” he said with a grin.
They crossed the Border, and left the River Esk behind.
When they got to the River Eden, the pale moonlight touched everything with silver and shadow.
They arrived at Greystoke’s property of Beaumont, and Gavin gave the orders to fire all the hayricks in the pasture.
This would draw the men at the stables guarding the thoroughbreds out into the pasture to put out the fires, leaving the horses unprotected long enough to be snatched away, and driven north.
Douglas parted ways from the others, and guided her pony to the back of the hall.
There was only one thing she was after, and she focused on its shiny image in her mind’s eye.
She dismounted and silently crept along the outside wall, looking into windows until she found the library.
She made out the shape of the oak desk, and knew exactly where the priceless artefact lay.
She bent down and picked up a rock from the garden, then drew back her arm and smashed out the glass in the window.
She climbed up and was straddling the windowsill when a feeling of foreboding came over her.
She hesitated for long minutes. The thing that stayed her had nothing to do with conscience, it was a strong sense of inner preservation.
If I steal the mirror pendant, Lance Greystoke will guess it was me.
He knew how much I coveted it when I held it in my hand.
He’ll immediately know I had a hand in the missing thoroughbreds and will come after us.
If he just finds the horses gone, he won’t connect me in any way.
Hundreds of Scots reivers are pillaging tonight.
Douglas withdrew her leg from the library windowsill. She got back on her pony and caught up with the rest of the riders as they were about to drive the stolen horses across the Scottish Border. Thank God I came to my senses in time. Lance Greystoke won’t have a clue who snatched his horses.
Douglas heaved a sigh of relief as they neared Castle Elliot. “We’ll be safe in our beds before dawn breaks.”
Rob shook his head. “Gavin arranged to deliver the horses to Sim Armstrong in Langholm. Prize thoroughbreds on Elliot land would raise too many questions.”
“I hope Gavin didn’t sell them cheap. These horses are worth a fortune.”
“Keep yer nose out of men’s affairs, especially Gavin’s. The less you know, the better. Get yerself to bed, and none will suspect yer reckless behavior.”
Douglas nodded. She knew Rob wouldn’t tell Gavin for fear he would get the blame for allowing her to go on the raid.