by Bess McBride
“Oh, no, I’ll leave you to eat. I just came to see Elinor for a moment.”
“Please come in, Beth,” Elinor said in a husky voice. “Let it never be said that I dinna ken how to lose well.”
Now my cheeks flamed. I didn’t know we were going to speak in terms of winning or losing, and especially not in front of anyone else.
“Lose?” Captain Jones asked. “Is there a game afoot?”
“Nay,” Elinor said, offering him a spoonful of soup. “It isna a game. A poor choice of words on my part.” She looked at me over her shoulder, her lips tremulous. “Please come in, Beth.”
I entered the room and took a seat in a tapestry-covered high-back chair, still unused to sitting on what I thought of as valuable antiques. The room was decorated similarly to mine, albeit in shades of blue.
“Thank you, Lady Elinor,” Captain Jones said. “I think I am satiated.”
Elinor rested the spoon in the bowl and set them on the stand beside the bed.
“Ye look better for having eaten, Captain Jones. There is some color in yer cheeks.”
“I imagine there must be,” Captain Jones said as he met her eyes.
Elinor blinked and looked down at her entwined fingers.
Was he flirting with her? I knew I hadn’t been wrong in thinking they felt an instant attraction to each other, but I wasn’t sure they could have any future.
I looked toward the window to give them a few moments. Where was Colin now? I imagined him scrambling up the hill to find his clansmen and warn them. But I had no real idea of how he would go about it. Was there a foot trail? A horse path? No, not a horse path, because Captain Jones hadn’t taken his horse up into the hills for that very reason.
“You seem troubled, Mistress Pratt,” Captain Jones said. “Surely not on my behalf. I believe the good doctor’s ministrations will see me healed before I know it.”
With great effort, I refocused my attention on the occupants of the room.
“Oh, no,” I said. “No, I think you will do quite well. You’re already sitting up and eating. Don’t overdo it though.” I didn’t see any evidence of renewed bleeding.
“I will try not to do so,” he said.
A tap on the door caught our attention, and Captain Jones replied.
“Enter!”
Expecting to see Mrs. Agnew, I was taken aback when one of the soldiers, a small middle-aged man, entered and saluted. His red jacket, dark trousers and boots bore mud stains, though it appeared that he had tried to wipe them off, leaving large wet spots on his clothing and smears on his boots.
Captain Jones nodded.
“Yes, Sergeant Hall. What is it? How are the boys doing below stairs?”
“Very well, Captain. Quite comfortable. I wanted to tell you that I took the liberty of sending one of the men back to the fort on your horse to let them know what’s occurred, and to send reinforcements.”
I drew in a sharp breath and clapped my hand over my mouth.
Captain Jones straightened in a sudden movement, which elicited pain. He clutched his side.
“You did what?” he barked in an unusually sharp tone.
“Well, I know that is your horse and all, but I thought we shouldn’t wait, lest the Jacobites make good their escape.” Sergeant Hall ran an uncertain hand across his gray grizzled chin.
Elinor watched the interaction in some confusion.
“It was not your place to make that decision, Sergeant Hall. You should have consulted with me.” Captain Jones, blue eyes hard, stared at the hapless sergeant.
The captain seemed to pull himself together with effort, and his tone softened. “However, what is done is done. I trust my horse will come to no harm.”
“No, sir. I sent Corporal Goodson. You know he has a soft touch with horses. He’ll treat your horse right, just you wait and see.”
I loved animals too, but that was not my first concern. Hearing that reinforcements would arrive terrified me. I had to get word to Colin.
“Yes, thank you, Sergeant. That will be all.”
The sergeant nodded, saluted and left the room. I stared after the closed door, trying to figure out what to do next.
“Mistress Pratt, you must know my concern is not for my horse.”
I swung around and looked at Captain Jones. He looked from me to Elinor.
“I must trust you two ladies. I have no choice. I do not wish to see one more Scot executed for following their chieftains down a path to overthrow the king. I grieve the death of so many fine Highlanders at Culloden and its aftermath. Corporal Goodson will reach the fort within six hours, riding hard. Reinforcements will no doubt arrive by tomorrow. This small band of Jacobites, no more than eight in all, consisting of nothing more old men and young boys, is no match for them.” He looked down at his side. “I think the boy who injured me must have been no more than thirteen or fourteen, albeit large for his age.” He took a breath. “I need your help to get up to the hills. It is my intention to warn them. I believe I know where they are hiding.”
I listened to him with wide eyes and a pounding heart, hardly believing what I was hearing. Elinor appeared to have the same reaction.
“I cannot let the men know that I have gone. You must lie and say that I am sleeping, if they wish to speak to me, at least for the next two days. I do not know how long it will take me to reach them, but I think a day or two will be sufficient.”
I finally found my voice.
“You’re not going anywhere,” I said firmly. “I will go.”
“Ye, Beth?” Elinor found her voice as well. “Are ye daft?”
Captain Jones wasn’t so quick to protest.
“Where is Lord Anderson at the moment?” he asked me.
I shrugged. “I’m not sure,” I said. I trusted the captain with most things, probably even with my safety, but not with Colin’s secret.
“Beth,” he said softly. “I know he has gone to warn them. I am fully aware that Lord Anderson aided and abetted them. Did you think I did not know that? Did you think I didn’t see him talking to the old man? Clan ties are strong in the Highlands. He would not have turned his back on his fellow clansmen.”
I stared at him, keeping my face straight. Elinor’s face drained of color, and she turned to stare at me.
“Is it true, Beth? Has Colin committed treason by helping the rebels hide?”
I didn’t respond to her question.
“I’ll go, Captain Jones. You’re in no shape to climb hills. Just tell me how to get to where you think they are.”
Captain Jones eyed me for a bit as he thought. He sighed, and I knew he was giving in.
“Follow the trail up the hill and stay on it. Find Malcolm, the shepherd. He will tell you where Colin is. You will have to go on foot. It is a fairly arduous climb. Take one of the stable boys with you.”
I thought of the young men, and although I would have appreciated the company and maybe their knowledge of the surrounding area, I shook my head.
“I’m not about to put anyone else in danger of being executed for treason. I’ll go alone. I’m pretty tough. I can climb hills.”
“Yes, I see your point,” Captain Jones said.
“Ye surely are not countenancing such a dangerous venture,” Elinor protested. “Captain Jones!”
His cheeks flamed, and he shook his head.
“Elinor, it is the only way. If you are not worried about the wretched rebels, then you must surely concern yourself for Lord Anderson’s welfare.”
I had won, and I rose.
“I’m going to go change. Elinor, could you ask Mrs. Agnew to put together a little bit of food and some water for me? I’ll be ready in about twenty minutes.”
Elinor picked up the bowl of soup and rose, staring at us dubiously.
“I wish ye wouldna do this, Beth. Where is Colin? Has he gone to warn the rebels?”
I stared at her without responding. I knew Captain Jones watched me, but I refused to look at him.
Elinor sighed heavily and looked from Captain Jones to me.
“What has the world come to?” she said. “I will get yer food and drink for ye and await ye outside by the back door.”
“Beth!” I turned to look at Captain Jones and took the hand he held out to me.
“Take no chances,” he said. “These are desperate people, though I do not think they will harm a woman. Find Colin. It is he who must be warned that the soldiers will arrive sooner than one might expect. Bring him back.”
I nodded but gave nothing away.
“I’ll be careful.”
I followed Elinor out and hurried to my room. I searched the wardrobe for my jeans and shirt, but Mrs. Agnew still seemed to hold them hostage somewhere else in the house. I had no time to find her and no way of explaining why I wanted to wear them. I couldn’t imagine climbing hills in a long skirt, but I guessed that’s what I would have to do.
With the image of the muddied soldiers in mind, I changed out of my dark-blue silk gown with its stays and petticoats and slipped into a chocolate-brown bodice and olive-green serge skirt. I wasn’t sure they matched, but I didn’t care. Eschewing the stays, the bodice was snug around my ribs, and I had to pull the laces tightly to close it, but I didn’t think I could manage scrambling up a hillside in a corset. I definitely skipped the hooped petticoat.
I headed down to the back door and met Elinor there. She thrust a cloth bag at me and draped a container over my shoulder, which I assumed held something to drink, hopefully water. I couldn’t possibly wander the hills in search of rebels half drunk on claret or ale.
“Ye must take a cloak. The nights will grow cold.”
She pulled the black cloak from its hook and laid it about my shoulders.
“I ken the weather isna foul at present. Ye may remove the cloak, but for now, it would be best if the servants and soldiers didna see ye carrying food and drink into the hills, a sure sign ye’re going to warn the rebels. If it were Colin, they might think he is about the business of the estate, perhaps going up to check on the shepherd and his flock, but they willna think that of ye if they see ye going up into the hills.”
Elinor’s voice was fairly gruff given that she tended to be soft spoken. She surprised me by leaning in to embrace me.
“Take care of yerself, Beth. Bring Colin back.”
I nodded. “I will.” That was the first time I had given indication that I knew where Colin was, but Elinor was his cousin, and if I had discovered nothing else about life in the Highlands, it was that blood was thicker than water.
I eased open the back door, looked out to see no other humans, and I stepped out. I hurried through the garden, not pausing to look around. I heard no shouts behind me. Fortunately, a mist had risen, and I was soon no longer visible to the house. However, neither were the hills particularly visible to me.
Chapter Thirteen
I soon emerged from the gardens and paused. I thought I remembered seeing a trail leading up into the hills, and I veered to the left to head in that direction. My skirts dragged in the dew settling on the grass from the mist, but I had only one spare hand to grab a bunch of material in the front to free my feet.
I hurried along the edge of the lawn at the bottom of the nearest hillside. Trees loomed above me, and I couldn’t find the beginning of the trail. Was I even in the right area?
For a moment, I regretted my decision not to take the stable boy, but I knew it would have been wrong to involve him. Struggling to peer through the mist, I stumbled over my skirts several times as I reversed my steps, thinking I had gone too far. I knew the trail began somewhere to the rear of the castle, and I sensed I had probably circumnavigated the grounds and was near the front of the castle.
My breathing quickened with anxiety, and I stopped for a moment to drag in a few steadying breaths. I hadn’t even begun the climb. I had to calm down. I leaned on a tree and took several deep breaths. When my heart slowed, I moved on. Within five minutes, I found the trail, which I had missed because early fall leaves had dropped from the trees and covered the path.
“Hah!” I said. “There you are.” I hopped onto the trail and began the ascent. There was nothing gradual about this path. It began at an acute angle and never seemed to level off. Rutted and uneven, I presumed from the pitter-patter of sheep’s hooves, the condition of the trail forced me to haul my skirts up above my kneecaps to watch my footing on the steep hill. Limbs from the trees hung low over the path, and I could see that no horse could have made it through.
My cloak dragged heavily, and the bag of water fell off my shoulder repeatedly. I dropped the food more than once, as it seemed I would be able to deal with the skirts or the food or drink, but not all three. I stopped to tie the food to the bag of water and slung the heavy lot over my shoulder under the cloak. I tried pulling up the sides of my skirts and cloak and tucking them into the waistband, but they continued to slip out, and I wasted valuable time tucking them in again. I gave up on that.
My breathing grew ragged again, more with exertion this time than anxiety. My lungs hurt, and I wondered how much longer I could go on like this. I had been climbing for maybe an hour or so, and my body screamed for rest, but desperation to find Colin spurred me on.
After another hour of climbing, with wet skirts and cloak weighing at least a ton, I had to stop. I dropped to my knees on the path, hardly worrying about some hiker having to step around me. I was in eighteenth-century Scotland. No one was hiking in the hills.
I pulled the water bag from my shoulder and opened it to drink. Expecting a gulp of water, I gasped. Elinor had put tea, now tepid, into my bag. What a girl!
I drank my fill and set the bag on the path beside me. I didn’t give the food a thought, as I was sure I couldn’t catch my breath and eat at the same time.
A rustle in the nearby bushes startled me, and I tried to jump up but got caught up in my skirts. I fell onto my back and froze, hardly daring to breath. Another rustle told me it was probably just a rabbit or a small animal. Surely a man crashing through the brush to do me harm would make much more noise.
I relaxed and pushed myself upright, gathering my skirts and cloak around me as I tried to stand. The trail had become slippery with the mist and fallen leaves, and I struggled to keep my balance. I shouldered the food and drink again and resumed my journey, dropping to my hands and knees at times as I continued the climb.
At some bleary point, the trees fell away as if I had climbed above the tree line. I turned to look behind me but could see nothing through the mist. It seemed as if the path had leveled off as well, and I wondered if I had crested the hills. I stopped, readjusted the food and drink on my shoulder, wiped my hands on my skirts and stretched for a moment.
A nearby boulder called to me, and I dragged myself to it to sit. I pulled out my bag of tea again and drank. A bleating sound caught my ear, and I knew I had found the sheep, if nothing else. Or they had found me.
Several black-faced sheep emerged out of the mist and crowded around me as I sat on the boulder. I jumped up, suddenly terrified, not of the sheep but that their bleating would attract attention to me. I still couldn’t see much in the mist, and I felt disadvantaged.
“Shhhh,” I said to the three who nudged my legs as if I were about to share my food with them. “Be quiet!”
A dog barked and ran into view. A sheepdog, naturally, the black-and-white pooch barked at me once as if I were trying to steal his flock, and he rounded up the three renegades and hurried them back along the path.
Without thinking, I grabbed my bags and took off after the dog and the sheep, stumbling over my sodden skirts.
“Wait!” I hissed, trying to keep my voice low. “Doggie! Come back here! Hey!”
Surely the dog would lead me to Malcolm, the shepherd. The sheepdog ignored me and continued to move the sheep along, and I soon lost sight of them. I noted that the path descended, and I suspected I had entered a valley. How on earth was I going to find Colin or some Jacobite rebels if I
couldn’t even find my own two feet?
I stopped on the path, breathing hard. Well, now what? And what was I doing on a foggy trail in the middle of some Scottish mountains in the wrong century, in the wrong clothing, looking for a man I hardly knew but loved, in the midst of a war I did not understand?
I wiped away the tears that burned the corners of my eyes, or maybe it was moisture from the mist. No, it was definitely tears to accompany the ache in my throat.
I supposed I could continue to follow the trail, and rally once again with the sheep and sheepdog, and hopefully with the shepherd.
Blinded by tears and mist, I sniffed, readjusted the bags on my shoulder and started out again.
Arms grasped me from behind, and I shrieked!
“Oh, my foolish love. What are ye about? Why did ye follow me?”
Colin twisted me to face him, and I dropped my bags and threw myself against him.
“The soldiers will come by tomorrow,” I said. “They’re probably already on their way. Captain Jones wanted to tell you himself, but I told him no, I would come.” I rambled as I pressed my face against Colin’s chest. “He shouldn’t move. One of his men took his horse and rode to the fort. He was so mad. He doesn’t really want the rebels caught and executed. I don’t either. Or you! He doesn’t want you to get into trouble. Me either!” I gasped and wondered if I’d said anything that made any sense. I lifted my head and looked at him.
His hair was curlier than ever from the rain, and I pushed it from his face. He kissed the palm of my hand.
“I supposed as much,” Colin said.
I heard the dog barking again, and he ran up and pressed himself against Colin’s legs.
“Here!” a voice said from somewhere nearby. “Laddie, come here!”
A tall, thin bearded man appeared out of the mist, sporting a plaid kilt that seemed to cover him almost entirely. Obviously, he wasn’t worried about what was banned or not. The dog moved to stand beside him. Several other dogs appeared and took up positions around the older man.
“Is this yer lady then, yer lairdship?” the man asked. Gray straggly hair hung to his shoulders.
