by Amy Jarecki
Keys scraped an iron lock in the distance, making her stomach jump. Though it was now a familiar sound, she didn’t think it was time for a meal. But perhaps the monotonous hours had melded together since the sentry had awakened her with his last pass. With nothing to indicate whether it was morning or night, she’d become totally disoriented.
Multiple footsteps slapped the stone stairs. Craning her neck to see who might be coming, Maddie used the iron bars to pull herself to her feet. Her legs had grown weak.
Three men carried a torch, and she shaded her eyes against the sudden brightness when they stopped outside her cell.
“Have you received word of my innocence?” she asked, as she had countless times.
“Still harping on about being innocent, are you?” One of the guards unlocked the door. “We’ve received word you’re to be shipped back to London to swing from the Tower’s gallows.”
Maddie’s fingers started trembling again. “Why not hang me from the gallows here and be done with it?”
Where is Aiden?
“Orders are for you to pose as an example to the people of London—show them what happens when someone tries to murder the queen.”
“I did no such thing.”
“Tell that to the magistrate in London.” The guard grabbed her arm and yanked her into the corridor. “Now keep your mouth shut, else I’ll be forced to gag you.”
The mere thought of a gag made perspiration spring across her skin. Maddie could only imagine the sort of filthy rag these monsters would shove in her mouth. It was useless trying to talk to them anyway. They never listened—just mindlessly carried out their orders no matter what.
After marching her outside, the guards made her stand in the back of a wagon and tied her wrists to a post behind the driver’s bench. No cowering inside a coach this time. Surrounded by a retinue of dragoons, she was paraded through the streets of Edinburgh as if she were a heinous criminal.
People stopped and heckled. More came out of their shops, throwing rotten food and wadded parchment. The taunts burned her ears:
“The pox to you!”
“Illegitimate swine!”
“Tie her to a stake in the Forth and let us watch the tide rise over her head!”
Maddie shuddered. That had to be the most hateful taunt she had ever heard in her life. How could these people judge her so harshly when she’d done nothing wrong?
The wagon rolled to a stop beside the Leith wharf where a large eighteen-oar sea galley waited, bobbing in the water. The ship’s mast rocked to and fro while the crew labored busily. Men unfurled sails, and one coiled rope while others loaded barrels of stores. They worked efficiently, not a one looking in her direction.
Maddie gasped when the Earl of Seaforth hopped onto the wharf. He gave her a pointed look and held his finger to his lips, then swiped it sideways as if wiping his cheek.
Had Seaforth turned backstabber? He was a queen’s man, after all.
“I’ll sign for the prisoner,” said the earl. “And you’d best give me the key to her manacles. She’ll need to relieve herself at some point.”
“I’m sending Sentinel Roberts with you to guard the prisoner,” said the dragoon.
“Och, I’m certain my brawny Highland men can handle a wee lassie.” The earl took a quill from the sentinel and dipped it in the dragoon’s pot of ink, then scrawled on the parchment. “Besides, with a full crew I have no room to spare on my ship.”
After unchaining her manacles from the pole, another sentinel all but pushed her down the two rungs at the back of the wagon. Stumbling forward, Maddie nearly fell into Seaforth.
He looked down his nose at her and sneered. “MacRae, take charge of the prisoner.”
As a Highlander stepped ashore and grasped Maddie’s elbow, the dragoon in charge spread his palms to his sides. “I really think we should send our man—”
With a slice of his hand, Seaforth cut him off. “You dare question an earl? I said there was no need for your sentinel to sail with us. Bloody oath, if it will ease your conscience, I shall deliver Lady Magdalen to the Tower myself.”
With a loud sigh, the man bowed. “Very well, m’lord.”
MacRae led Maddie to the sea galley. “This way, m’lady. Mind the first step. ’Tis rather steep.”
“Thank you.” This was the first time since her capture that anyone had been courteous. Taking her skirts in bound hands, she raised them only as high as was necessary to take the step without falling.
MacRae followed. “We made a place for you near the stern, where you won’t be bothered by the oarsmen.”
“That is very kind,” she said, though with a tad of sarcasm in her voice. After all, the earl was being paid to ferry her to her death.
Unfortunate a soul cannot die from being mortifyingly, disgracefully, and hideously humiliated.
Seaforth hopped down onto a rowing bench without using the steps. “Weigh anchor,” he bellowed, heading for the rudder. “Man the oars and prepare to set a course for the open sea.”
Maddie was none too happy to discover she’d be sitting beside the backstabbing earl while he navigated the galley. However, with the heavily armed dragoons staring at her from the wharf, she decided to sit where MacRae instructed. And once they sailed out of earshot, she’d be giving Reid MacKenzie a piece of her mind even if he was an earl.
The backstabber is doing the work of Satan.
“The anchor is stowed, m’lord,” shouted a man from the bow.
“Shove off, oarsmen. Head with the wind and make the MacKenzie sail billow…” The orders spewing from Seaforth’s mouth seemed as if they would never end.
But the sail flapped, and the mast groaned with the creaking of the boom until suddenly the wind filled the canvas, while the crew of eighteen manned the oars and rowed them to open water. It took only minutes for the galley to pick up speed, and she was on her way on the long voyage back to London.
Maddie wished a sea monster would rise from the depths and devour her in one gulp. If only this nightmare would end. She was tired, her body weak. And now she had to suffer the same punishment in London?
Because she’d changed a few miserable candles?
“M’lady,” Seaforth said, leaning toward her and placing a blanket about her shoulders. “I feel it is my duty to inform you that we are not heading to London.” He looked back toward the shore. “But I’ll not point the galley northward until we’ve passed Tantallon Castle in North Berwick. By then we should be well away from prying eyes.”
Maddie’s heart fluttered. “You—we—where?”
“I need you to act like a prisoner going to her doom. Now be a good lass and hang your head like you were doing. We’ll take the manacles off after we’ve turned north, m’lady.”
Sitting back, Maddie looked at her hands, then buried her face in them, for she couldn’t have wiped the smile from her mouth if she’d been hit between the eyes with one of the oars rowing her to freedom. “I have but one question.”
“Aye?” rumbled Seaforth.
“Where is Lord Tullibardine?”
“All will be revealed. Now speak no more.”
As he pulled on the oar with all his might, it was everything Aiden could do not to remove the bonnet from his head and rush back to Maddie. In the few glimpses he’d chanced, the poor lass looked as if she’d been through the bowels of hell.
In the past few days he hadn’t shaved, and he’d combed his hair forward to cover most of his face—even wet it with seawater for added effect. He looked like a heathen swine, but no one on the wharf had been any the wiser to his presence.
It took a bloody eternity for the galley to pass Tantallon Castle near the Bass Rock, protruding from the white-capped waves with its squawking gannets. The seabirds made the big rock appear white.
When a gannet screeched overhead, Aiden finally allowed himself to turn around. Staring at her folded hands, Maddie hadn’t noticed him, but Seaforth grinned and tapped her shoulder. Then he pointed.
“Lady Magdalen, I believe there is someone quite anxious to see you.”
When she looked up it was as if a ray of sunshine burst through the clouds and lit up her filthy face. She sprang to her feet. “Aiden—ah—I mean, Lord Tullibardine!”
Reid produced a skeleton key. “Allow me to unshackle your wrists, so you can give His Lordship a proper welcome.”
After securing his oar, Aiden leaped from one rowing bench to the next until he reached her.
Tears glistened in Maddie’s lovely eyes as she drew a hand over her mouth. “I’m afraid I am not fit to be seen, m’lord.”
“Och, no.” He stepped up to her and pulled the lass into his arms. “I care not if your hair is combed and curled and your face is scrubbed clean. I want to hold you in my arms and never let go.”
Her body trembled and shook as she buried her face in his shoulder. Aiden himself teared up. Dear God, the past month had been murder, but they’d done it. Seaforth had insisted on patience, and when the order came to ship Maddie back to London, they were ready. Closing his eyes, he pressed his lips to her forehead. “I never want to allow you out of my sight again, my love.”
“But—but—” She couldn’t still her breathing enough to finish.
Aiden smoothed his hand over her matted hair, hair that should always be brushed silken smooth and flowing in the wind. But that could be remedied easily enough. “Shhh,” he cooed. “Let us sit, and when you are ready, you can ask whatever comes to mind.”
Chapter Thirty-Five
Maddie sat on the bench and listened, her hands trembling while Aiden explained how Seaforth had invited the Duke of Argyll, acting governor of Edinburgh Castle, for an evening meal while Aiden sat behind the servants’ door and listened in. Seaforth eventually got around to asking about news of Lady Magdalen and what was to be done with her.
Just that day the duke had received word that she was to be shipped back to London for a trial and public hanging. Seaforth said he had business in London and could take her. No sense diverting a navy ship for a prisoner, he’d added.
Seaforth pulled on the rudder handle and laughed. “It was difficult to keep a straight face when Argyll asked me if I’d seen Tullibardine.”
“What did you say?” asked Maddie.
“Told him I’d only met the marquis once and he struck me as someone smart enough to know when to stay out of sight.”
Aiden slid his hand over Maddie’s shoulder and pulled her close. Closing her eyes, she leaned into him. She loved everything about the man Aiden Murray had become—his musky scent, his strength, his perseverance.
“We’re turning west into the Firth of Tay,” said Seaforth.
Maddie sat straight and drew a hand to her chest. “How are you going to explain my disappearance?”
“Got that all planned.” Reid grinned like a lad. “When we arrive in London I’ll file a report saying we hit a squall late at night and the prisoner threw herself overboard. I’ll say we searched for an entire day, and then I declared you dead.”
“Dead?”
Aiden gave her a squeeze. “You can reappear once we prove your innocence.”
“And in the interim?” She should be happy, euphoric, but she couldn’t shake the dread or the fear lurking at the back of her mind.
“We’ll have to keep you out of sight.” Aiden looked between Maddie and Seaforth. “I’ve sent word for my men to meet me at the Inner Tay Estuary. From there we’ll ride north to Blair Castle.”
“Is it safe to stay there?”
“Aye, we’ll have the protection of the Atholl men.”
Maddie’s shoulders sagged. “It will be a miracle if I can ever return to Stonehaven again.”
“Do you want to resume your duties at the hospital?”
“I’ve done nothing but pine for home and the hospital ever since I arrived in London.”
Aiden’s mouth formed a thin line and he looked away.
She blew a long sigh through pursed lips. “I just want to go home.”
“Och.” He patted her hand. “Things will work out. But you must trust me.”
“I do.”
He pulled her to her feet. “Have you sailed the Firth of Tay before?”
“Nay.” Goodness, the chilly breeze off the water was ice cold.
It was beautiful.
Aiden pointed. “To the south is Ferry-Port on Craig—gateway to the waterway. And see there to the north?”
A city sprawled along the far shore, with grand town houses billowing smoke from their chimneys that an icy wind carried out to sea.
“Aye.” Maddie decidedly loved bitter-cold gales. Any weather was preferable to the misery in Edinburgh’s jail. She shuddered as the memory of that place lurked in her mind like a black-robed villain.
“That’s the burgh of Dundee,” Aiden said. “Many a battle was fought there during the time of William Wallace and Robert the Bruce.”
Maddie looked from shore to shore. “’Tis nowhere near as wide as the Firth of Forth.”
“Nor as long,” said Seaforth.
Aiden took Maddie’s hand in his warm palm and kissed her fingers. “Do you remember what I said when we were in Coldstream—words I’ve never uttered to any other woman?”
Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. Oh, heaven of heavens, she wanted to marry Aiden more than anything, but not when she was to be proclaimed dead—not until her name was clear. “I can never forget.” This was not a conversation to have in front of the Earl of Seaforth and his men.
Aiden grinned. “Good.”
At the Tay Estuary, Aiden breathed a sigh of relief when the Atholl men stepped from the forest and helped pull the galley onto the sandy bank. Though it had been years, Aiden recognized them all, with Thomas, the captain of the Atholl Regiment, in the lead. A big Highlander at six foot five inches in height, Thom had proved his value to the clan a hundred times over. Any man with Thom’s sword guarding his back would be emboldened to ride into hell if necessary.
After Aiden helped Maddie to disembark, they bid good day to Seaforth. Aiden then shook hands with each and every Highlander in the regiment, calling them by name and thanking them for their loyalty and introducing Lady Magdalen Keith.
Thomas bowed, giving her hand a light peck. “The women at Blair Castle are expecting you, m’lady.”
She looked to Aiden with a startled expression. “They ken I’m coming?”
“My missive only said there would be a guest in my company.” He patted her shoulder. “Not to worry, lass. It was carried by Seaforth’s runner.”
She drew her fists under her chin, her shoulders hunched as if she feared retribution.
“The horses are waiting just beyond the wood, m’lord,” said Thomas.
After smoothing a hand down her back for reassurance, Aiden grasped Maddie’s elbow and led her forward. “Excellent. And has there been any word from the duke? Anything about my disappearance?”
“Afraid not, m’lord.”
Blast. Aiden would have liked some news from London. Perhaps something to suggest he’d been pardoned—or that he was being pursued. His not knowing anything didn’t help circumstances in the least. “I want Atholl spies posted at Edinburgh Castle. If so much as a word about me or Lady Magdalen is mentioned, they must send word immediately.”
“I already have men dispatched, m’lord.”
“You’re a good soldier, Thom.” Aiden didn’t want to make Maddie any more uneasy than she already was. He grinned and waggled his eyebrows in an attempt to lighten her burden. “We’ll be at Blair Castle by nightfall, and I’ll have the chambermaids draw you a soothing bath.”
During the ride north, Maddie continually looked over her shoulder. Though the dragoons thought she was on the Earl of Seaforth’s sea galley heading for London, she couldn’t shake the feeling that a regiment of government troops would charge out of the woods and attack—or be lying in wait over the crest of the next hill. With trembling fingers she clutched the arisaid tightly beneath her chi
n to appear as inconspicuous as possible.
“Blair Castle ahead,” Thomas shouted.
Tears welled behind her eyelids. As she peered through the trees, her arms went limp. Whitewashed and majestic, Blair had to be one of the stateliest castles in all of Scotland. It wasn’t an archaic castle surrounded by a motte and bailey with cannons atop, but the magnificent and sprawling home of a powerful family.
Once they’d dismounted, Aiden led her up the steps and through a relatively modest doorway, given the grandeur of the castle. However, on the inside her impression of stateliness was not dashed in the slightest. Spacious and two stories high, the richly paneled walls in the hall displayed row upon row of antlers.
A matron quietly stepped into the hall.
“Ah, Mrs. Abernathy.” Aiden dipped into a brief bow.
The woman clasped her hands and peered at Maddie as if she’d been dragged in by the dogs. “Lord Tullibardine, I cannot tell you enough how delighted I was to receive word you would soon be arriving at Blair.” Her voice, however, sounded anything but delighted.
Maddie pressed her hand to her forehead and shifted her gaze to the floorboards. She hadn’t seen a looking glass since leaving Coldstream over a month ago—or a comb, or a facecloth, or a decent meal, for that matter.
Aiden grasped Maddie’s hand and gave it a gentle kiss. “Allow me to introduce Lady Magdalen. She has suffered unjustly at the hands of certain Atholl enemies. Please see to it you draw her a bath. She needs new clothing, her hair combed and curled. Anything Her Ladyship requests is to be granted. I want you to treat her like a queen. Am I understood?”
The woman curtsied, though she didn’t smile. “Very well, m’lord. I’ve already set the water to warming, knowing how much you like your baths.”
“You are a good woman, Mrs. Abernathy.”
There came a wee smile. The head housemaid beckoned Maddie with a wave of her hand. “This way. I think you’ll be happy with the chamber we’ve prepared for you, m’lady.”
Maddie followed, uncertain if she’d ever again feel safe enough to be happy.
