by Barbara Bard
It also allowed her to turn her back from the world and ignore the problems of the estate. She looked past her reflection in the window and tried not to worry about what could happen. However, as soon as she started to think about this, her mind began to whirl.
She imagined guards coming up to her and grabbing her, pulling her away to a dark fate. Either they would take her in front of Lord Athelred Flynn, and she would be forced to confess her crimes, or they would simply throw her into the dungeon herself, and she had seen how desperately dire that fate was. Her heart had always gone out to the prisoner locked in the dungeon. She'd had no idea why he was in there, for he had already been imprisoned when she arrived at the estate. The treatment of him was inhumane, even if he had committed many crimes.
The problem was, Rebecca had never been able to glean any information about the crimes he had committed. Everyone in the estate merely told her that he'd gone against Lord Flynn, but they provided no details. Sometimes, they implied that being a Highlander was enough of a crime.
Rebecca wasn't politically minded, but although she was afraid of the vicious Highlanders she didn't think one should be punished for being what they were. The Lord had made everything, and everything had its purpose, surely punishing somebody for their nature was showing disrespect to the wisdom of God?
She shook her head. These matters were not something a girl like her should be thinking about. She was of a lowly position and did not need to worry about these things. She focused on the window. Rebecca dipped the cloth in the water and wrung it, watching the excess water trickle down the side of her hands and back into the bucket. Then she put the cloth against the glass and rubbed it in a circular motion. The suds lingered on the smooth pane, then dripped down.
Her arm was used to such methodical work, so she was not tired by it, and eventually she had made it along one wall.
The burning red sky was beautiful this early in the morning. Rebecca always liked these times, for it was before most of the household was awake, and it was entirely peaceful. She dreaded the moment that was inevitable, for it wouldn't be long until Catherine's disappearance was discovered, and then it would surely only be a matter of time until she was questioned. Just the thought made her light-headed, for she didn't think she would be able to lie.
Before she knew it, she had been standing with her hand against the window for some time. Suds crept along her hand and dripped to the floor. She closed her eyes and thought about her parents, wondering if they had ever been faced with a trial such as this.
She couldn't imagine so, because her parents had been paragons of virtue, and it almost seemed like she had let them down by becoming involved in a scheme like this.
Rebecca turned around a corner and began to scrub the windows on this side of the building, but then she looked over to the stables and saw George tending to the horses. He was the only other person, aside from those that had escaped, who knew what had happened the previous night. For a few moments she debated whether she should go and talk to him or not, and in the end, she decided not to. Being seen with him would only raise suspicion, and she didn't want to draw any attention to herself.
George had already told her about his ordeal, how he had been the escort for Lady Brambly, Harold Flynn’s intended bride, and her handmaid. He'd done the only thing he could do to protect the girls he knew, and that was to lie about their identity. The handmaid had been passed off as Lady Brambly. It seemed a convoluted situation. Rebecca hoped she would never get involved in something like that.
It really was where things had spiraled out of control, from Rebecca’s point of view. Once the ruse was discovered by Lord Flynn, he had flown into a rage and stormed into the Highlands, declaring war. He had never returned. Neither had the handmaid. Rebecca had heard from Catherine that both Lady Brambly and the handmaid, Sarah, were now living with Highlanders. Catherine had left too. What was it about these Highlanders that were so appealing? Rebecca didn’t know.
The water turned a dirty black color, so Rebecca carried the pail back to the well, intending to continue with washing the windows to make them sparkle and gleam as the light from the sun struck them. She was in the middle of carrying the pail when she heard a commotion. People ran through the courtyard. Windows were flung open.
“Lady Flynn has gone!” the call came. Rebecca stopped in her tracks. Sweat beaded at her temples. The pail of water suddenly seemed heavier than usual and she felt faint. Her face paled and her lips tightened for it had finally happened. The discovery had been made, and it was only a matter of time before they realized that Declan had escaped as well, and then they would be coming to ask her questions.
The greatest test Rebecca had ever faced was upon her, and she only hoped that she would be able to endure it without suffering. She thought of the scars on George's back and could almost feel the pain on her own. Then she thought of the man she had help escape, the one who had been in the dungeon for years. She also thought about the people George had talked about, the ones who had been hanged.
None of their fates seemed like something Rebecca could endure. She had become entangled in this mess through no fault of her own, and Lady Flynn wasn't even here to help her!
The thunder of hooves echoed through the air as a heavy wagon rolled out of the estate. It was black and foreboding, and the guards it carried had a determined, malevolent look in their eyes. Rebecca was afraid then, not just for herself, but also for the people she helped escaped, for surely, they would be captured.
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Also by Barbara Bard
● Book 1: Highlander’s Honor
● Book 2: Highlander’s Savior
● Book 3: Her Highland Devil
● Book 4: Her Highland Protector
● Book 5: Highlander's Captive
● Book 6: Highlander's Revenge
