Chapter 11
The Man Who Knows Her Name
Seven days after taking a ball below the ribs, Alistair discovered that sitting still in a cart cost more strength than crossing a slope on foot.
Every unevenness in the street reached the stitching. The heavy wool coat hid the binding under the léine and helped the workman's disguise along; it did nothing for the pain. Beside the coal cart, Graeme pretended to check the rope of an empty barrel while he watched Penelope's house.
"Iain said an hour," he said, low.
"It hasn't passed."
"It passed before Malcolm arrived."
Alistair kept his eyes on the lit windows.
"Then stop counting."
The reception was still going on the floor above. Shadows crossed the curtains, glasses caught the light, and from time to time Diana appeared near a window. The dark gown made her easy to find among the pale silks of the guests.
She went out of sight.
Graeme straightened.
"Boyd's gone out the back."
A clansman posted at the corner made a small signal. Graeme took the empty barrel and started pushing it toward the side lane. Alistair came down from the cart before his cousin could stop him.
The street tilted under his feet. He waited for the ground to come back.
"Get back in the cart," Graeme said.
"Boyd may be carrying the map."
"And you may be carrying your own stitches to the ground."
Alistair went on.
The lane ran along the back wall of the house. There was a service door, two small windows, and a yard closed in by stone. Boyd was already moving off toward the river with a young man driving a covered cart.
Graeme pointed out the clansman.
"He follows Boyd."
Before he could give the order, the yard door opened.
Malcolm MacPherson came out first.
Diana came after him.
He shut the door and stood in front of it, closing the way back into the house. From the shadow of the lane, Alistair could make out the shine of the chain on the gown and Malcolm's hand still near the medallion.
The distance to the yard was far too short.
Graeme caught Alistair's arm.
"Wait."
"Take your hand off."
"When you decide against walking into Penelope's house with an open wound."
Malcolm's voice came over the low wall.
"Andrew Fraser had that design cut after he married."
Diana closed her hand on the medallion.
"You knew my father?"
"I knew the name before I knew the man. He treated people other physicians preferred to let die."
"That does not answer."
"He saved my uncle. He also hid wanted men and asked questions that displeased the authorities."
Diana kept her back to Alistair. There was no fear in the way she stood. Only the hand closed around the chain said Malcolm had reached something.
"My father died years ago."
"And left two daughters. Diana and Eliza Fraser."
Eliza's name stopped Graeme's breathing beside him.
Malcolm leaned in a little.
"It was simple once I saw the medallion. Lady Hawthorne employs two Whitmore sisters. One reads Latin, knows anatomy, and disappears to treat a Highlander. The other moves through rooms and deliveries without anyone remembering to fall silent in front of her."
"You appear to have spent a great deal of time observing servants."
"Only the ones who lie well."
Diana let the chain go. The medallion dropped against the cloth.
"If you know who we are, why have you not told Penelope?"
"Because she would lose two useful women. I would lose a road."
"To where?"
"Do not waste my time."
"You began this conversation with my father. I presumed you were fond of circumlocution."
Malcolm's head moved with amusement.
"The man you treated was Alistair MacLeod."
Diana did not answer.
"Graeme MacLeod came for him. You risked your place in Penelope's house, took your sister, and stayed away six days. No one does that for a stranger."
"You know very little about physicians."
"I know men. MacLeod is alive, and you know where to find him."
Graeme tightened his grip when Alistair moved half a step forward.
Malcolm went on.
"You will take me to the shelter."
"I do not know where it is."
"You spent six days among them."
"I was taken by tracks in the dark and left far from the road when they permitted us to leave."
"Then you will find the way again."
"And if I cannot?"
"I will begin with your sister."
The answer came without any rise in his voice.
Graeme went rigid. Alistair's own pulse beat against the wound.
Diana did not step back.
"Eliza does not know where it is."
"Penelope will decide that once she knows the daughters of Andrew Fraser helped rebels."
"She does not care for scandal inside her own house."
"Which is why she will hand you both to someone who can remove you quietly."
Alistair's hand reached the knife under his coat.
Graeme spoke at his ear.
"If you go in, Malcolm has it confirmed that she led him to you."
Alistair knew it. The logic did nothing for the wish to go through the gate.
In the yard, Diana lifted her chin.
"What do you wish me to do?"
"Tomorrow, after dark, you will go out by the north road. You will leave a white ribbon on the first stone marker at the fork. My men will follow at a distance."
"Penelope watches every movement I make."
"You will find a reason. You are generally good at that."
"And after that?"
"You will take my men to MacLeod."
"I need time."
"You have until tomorrow."
Malcolm opened the door.
"Straighten your chain, Miss Whitmore. Lady Hawthorne notices objects out of place."
He went back into the house.
Diana stayed alone in the yard. For a few seconds her hand rested on the medallion. Then she straightened the collar, opened the door, and was gone.
Graeme let go of Alistair.
"I'll go after Boyd."
"Don't lose sight of her."
"She knows how to get back to the meeting point."
"Malcolm knows she'll go out too."
"Which is why you'll be at the chapel. Not in this lane, trying to die inconveniently."
Alistair glanced at him.
"Find the map."
"And you try to reach the chapel without undoing Diana's work."
Graeme went off toward the river.
A church bell struck ten as Diana came into the abandoned chapel.
Alistair was waiting by the east wall. The cart was hidden among the trees, and the clansman kept the horses beyond the burial ground. The lantern flame stayed low behind a fallen stone.
Diana pulled the broken door shut behind her.
"Where is Graeme?"
"Following Boyd."
She nodded.
"Then you saw the cart leave."
"I saw Malcolm take her into the yard."
Diana stopped.
"Were you close enough to hear?"
"He threatened Eliza."
"Yes."
"You're coming back to the shelter tonight."
She went to the stone where they left messages and took a folded paper out of her glove.
"Malcolm wants me to mark the north road tomorrow. That gives us a known route, an hour, and men who will be away from the warehouse."
"There won't be a tomorrow in that house."
"The decision is not yours."
The sentence landed in the space between them with precision.
Alistair took a step. The pain pulled at his side. He did not stop.
"He knows your name. He knows Eliza's name, and he knows you found me."
"Reason enough to keep the story while he still believes he can use me."
"He'll put men behind you."
"He already has."
"He can have you taken before you reach the road."
"He can."
"And you still mean to go back."
Diana looked up.
"The infiltration is only useful while there is risk. You agreed to it when I was out of your reach."
"I didn't agree to Malcolm threatening your sister."
"There was no choosing which threats he would make."
"I can choose to take you both out of there."
"And confirm everything he suspects."
Alistair closed his hand. The movement reached the stitching and made him breathe slowly.
Diana looked at his side.
"Are you bleeding?"
"No."
"Answer without pride."
"The binding's dry."
"Did Iain permit you to come?"
"Iain doesn't govern my decisions."
"An administrative failure of the clan."
She came closer and put a hand to the opening of his coat. Alistair caught her wrist before it reached the binding.
"Don't change the subject."
"Your wound has been the subject since I found you."
"Malcolm knows you saved me."
"He does not yet know why."
The answer made his fingers loosen.
Diana drew her wrist back and opened the paper.
"Eliza heard Boyd say the wrapper goes back to the warehouse tomorrow night. Penelope intends to change the cart after Malcolm leaves. Graeme needs to know before he returns to the shelter."
"Eliza stays in the house?"
"Someone has to keep Penelope from noticing my absence."
"You talk about it like a household task."
"Speaking in fear does not improve the plan."
The sentence was close to what she had said to Penelope. Alistair had heard only part of that conversation. He recognized the method: reduce danger to actions that can be carried out.
"He touched your chain," he said.
Her eyes went down to Alistair's hand.
He had not known he was already holding the medallion between his fingers. The silver was cold. The cut design was simple, worn at the edges from use.
"He touched the metal," Diana said.
"He used your father's name to frighten you."
"It worked less well than he expected."
The chain had caught under the collar. Alistair lifted it to free it from the cloth. Diana went still.
The edge of the collar gave.
A pale line crossed the skin below the collarbone, uneven and old. He saw only part of it before the cloth fell back into place.
The yard, the chapel, and the pain moved away for a moment.
Dark water. Ice breaking. A small girl, soaked through, holding on to his plaid.
The image was gone before it formed a face.
Alistair kept the medallion between his fingers.
"How did you get that scar?"