Jean nodded in agreement. Then she said, “Will ye be all right if I leave ye alone in order to find us some transport?”
“Aye,” Annabella replied.
Suddenly, however, the door to Mistress Beaton’s chamber was flung open. A soldier stepped into the room. “What are ye two doing here?” he demanded to know. “My lord Ruthven gave orders for the palace to be evacuated yesterday, save those needed to sustain the queen.”
“This is the Countess of Duin,” Jean said. “She was sorely injured in theincidentthat took place last night. Mistress Beaton offered her chamber until my lady was strong enough to travel.”
“Ye must get up from that bed, dress, and go now,” the soldier said.
“My lady has miscarried her bairn,” Jean replied, “but we are willing to leave. However, we must have transport, for my lady can scarcely walk. Can ye help us?”
The soldier hesitated briefly; then he said, “I will fetch a litter for ye. It will await ye at the postern gate. Ye’ll have to get her that far, lassie.”
“Thank ye,” Jean said to him. “We’ll hurry as quickly as we can.”
The soldier grunted his acknowledgment and then, leaving them, closed the door.
“I hae no clothing,” Annabella said. “Ye cut it off me last night.”
“Mistress Beaton will have something ye can wear, for she did not return to collect any of her belongings,” Jean replied. She opened the trunk at the foot of the bed and rummaged through it impatiently.
“She’s taller than I am,” Annabella said. “See if she has a long cloak I can put over this chemise, and something for my feet. The house is not that far from the palace.”
“Here’s a nice fur-lined cape,” Jean said, pulling it out of the trunk. “It must come to her knees, but ’twill fall longer on ye, which is to the good. And a pair of house slippers. Her feet are just about yer size, which is small for a lass who is tall.”
“Is there another chemise?” Annabella asked.
“Aye, ’tis a good idea, my lady.” She pulled one out, and then set about helping her mistress to dress. The second chemise would add warmth to the first, which was now lightly stained with dried blood. Jean had no cotton wool to make a pad to contain the ooze from Annabella’s miscarriage. She would be able to better take care of her lady when they regained their town house. She put the slippers on the younger woman’s feet and helped her stand.
Annabella swayed slightly, but then steadied herself with the help of Jean’s strong arm. The cape was set onto her shoulders. It was of heavy wool, dark in color, and lined in fur. She was relieved to find that it had a fur-trimmed hood, which she pulled up.
“I’m ready,” she told Jean, who was now garbed in her own hooded cloak.
Together the two women left the shelter and safety of Mary Beaton’s chamber. Slowly they made their way through the dim, silent, and empty corridors that were usually bustling with life. After a few minutes, Annabella felt a weakness beginning to fill her, but she gritted her teeth and moved ahead into a narrow passage that led to an inside courtyard and the postern gate. Opening the door into the courtyard, they found the same soldier who had spoken to them earlier.
“Ah, here ye are at last,” the man said. He scooped up Annabella, running across the cobbled space with Jean right behind him. The postern gate was already open, and outside was a litter large enough for both women, manned by two bearers. The soldier set Annabella carefully inside the vehicle, and Jean climbed in after her.
“Thank ye!” Jean said.
“Aye,” Annabella echoed. “Thank ye, sir.”
“Take these ladies to . . .” The soldier looked to Jean.
“Burnside House,” she said.
“Burnside House,” the soldier repeated.
The litter was lifted, and the bearers set off at a trot. They never broke stride, and Holyrood faded behind them as they got deeper into town. Finally, after a few twists and turns from the Royal Mile to a side street and the private lane upon which Burnside House stood, they arrived. The servants were immediately out the door to help them. One very tall footman lifted Annabella up and carried her into the building and upstairs to her chamber. Jean came behind after paying the litter bearers.
“Where is the earl?” she asked him.
“Hasn’t come home,” the man answered. “What is happening? We’ve heard all sorts of rumors, good and bad. Ye were there.”
“Let me get my lady settled, and then if ye’ll all gather in the hall, I’ll tell ye what I know,” Jean promised.
“Angus?” Annabella asked weakly from her bed.
“Still wi’ Bothwell, I suspect,” Jean answered. “One of the bearers told me that he and Huntley withdrew their forces from the town because it was not possible to reach the queen wi’out endangering her and the unborn child. He’ll nae linger wi’ Bothwell. He’ll want to know that ye’re safe, and he’ll want to go home. Fergusons dinna involve themselves in such disturbances as are now occurring. Dinna fret.” She struggled to divest Annabella of the two chemises, sliding a clean one onto the younger woman’s frame.
