The guard opened the door, glaring at her. “I do not clean, ’tis women’s work.” The disgust in his voice had her holding in laughter. “Go outside and make it fast.”
She stepped out of the cell, looking to the room across from hers where the highlander was peering out. With a quick motion, Lucy made a hold signal, hoping he understand she had a rough plan.
As the guard followed her, he muttered under his breath about vexing wenches. If he hadn’t been so drunk, there was no way he would have let her out. But as young Albin had started saying, ‘the fates favor the bold’. Lucy should probably regret all the sayings she’d introduced, but she figured it wouldn’t change history, so did it really matter?
As they passed the other three men, one looked up blearily while the other two were asleep, one leaning back, his face red and splotchy, head against the wall, the other rested his head on his arms on the table, snoring softly. Her jailer slurped down another cup of wine, then motioned her forward.
When he opened the door, Lucy shivered. The man took a step back.
“Go, see to your needs. But right where I can see you.” He glared at her. “If you run, I will give you to the men until my mistress returns.”
“I’ll be quick.” She made a show of looking for a spot to go to the restroom when, in reality, she was looking for anything to use as a weapon. When she lifted her skirts to her knees, she looked over her shoulder at him. He was leaning against the wall inside, the door partway open.
Lucy threw her hands up. “Turn around. I am Lady Blackford and you will respect me.”
The man rolled his eyes but turned around, then feeling the breeze, he took a few steps further away from the open door and the wind.
Quietly humming the respect song under her breath, Lucy bent over, and in one smooth motion, picked up a rock and hid it in the folds of her skirts.
Once she was in the doorway out of the wind, Lucy stayed in the shadows as she called out.
“Oh no, my dress is caught on something. Please, big strong mercenary, I need your help.”
More muttered cursing ensued as the man swayed back and forth, one hand on the wall to keep his balance.
“Where?”
She gave a little wiggle, slightly raising her dress. “Here by my foot.”
When he bent over to look, she raised the rock up high and brought it down hard on his head. He went down without a sound, keys skidding across the floor, the thud of his body hitting the stone seeming to echo down the corridor.
Breath held, Lucy waited precious minutes, and when no one came to see what made the noise, she snatched up the keys, hid them in her pocket, and hurried down the corridor.
The men were fast asleep. The snores of the man with his head back against the wall were loud as she paused, seeing the spots. He had the pox. Good.
Her dagger was on the table under one of the men’s arms. William had given her that dagger. No way was this horrible man keeping it.
Lucy took a breath, held it and carefully pushed the dagger out from under the man’s arm, catching it by the hilt as it fell off the table before it hit his leg.
Not knowing how much time she had before they woke, she ran down the corridor.
Callan was ready. “Hurry, lass.”
The first key didn’t fit, but thankfully the second did. The click in the lock was loud, the bar screeching across metal as she pulled it back.
“Gracious, you’re tall.” Lucy stood back as the Scot stepped out, looking down the empty corridor.
He looked like a wild man from the stories the boy’s nanny liked to tell about highlanders come to plunder with his dark hair, matted like hers, heavy beard, and piercing green eyes that for one heart-stopping moment brought William’s face to mind.
He arched a brow at her. “Did ye kill him, then?”
“What? No.” She left the key in the lock. “I hit him over the head with a rock. The others are passed out drunk. Come on.”
He put a hand out. “Will ye let me go first? If they wake, let them see me.”
Lucy shrugged. “Whatever. Let’s go.”
“I know not, this ‘whatever’.” Callan moved like the shadows down the corridor while she simply tried not to make too much noise. And, of course, Lucy tripped over a bone and stubbed her toe.
