Annabella nodded. It was good advice, and she knew it.
“There is a path around the village proper. Take the fork to the left when ye reach the crossroads,” Jean said. “On the other side of Duin ye’ll see a stand of trees. Hide yerself there until Angus passes by. Then wait at least a quarter of an hour before ye follow him. There is nae other road he can take until he reaches the Edinburgh Leith road. After that ye should follow more closely, for there will be more traffic and he will nae notice ye amid it. If ye lose him, dinna be fearful. He always goes to the Mermaid in Leith. He’ll seek a vessel there to take him to France.”
Annabella nodded. “I’ll remember,” she said as she mounted her horse. “Thank ye, Jeannie. Watch over my sister and my bairns.”
“I will,” Jean promised.
Following the careful directions Jean had given her, Annabella reached the far side of Duin village and secreted herself in the stand of trees. After a surprisingly short while Angus cantered by. Annabella began counting off the minutes in her head, and when they totaled fifteen she exited the trees and followed the road as instructed. It took several long days to reach Leith, which was the port for Edinburgh.
During much of that time she had to rely on her faith that Angus was ahead of her. She rode until it was dark each night, sheltering where she could, eating her scant rations from the packet she found in her saddlebag. She became more comfortable when they reached the main road to the port and she could keep her husband in her sight amid all the traffic coming and going. But when Angus stopped at an inn, Annabella rode by, afraid to test her disguise amid a taproom of rough males. Instead she asked permission from a farm wife to shelter in the farmer’s barn.
“Why, what pretty manners ye hae, laddie,” the woman said. “Aye. Hae ye anything to eat?”
“Aye, mistress, thank ye,” Annabella said, lowering her voice just slightly.
The farm wife nodded, but later came to the barn with a large slab of fresh bread with cheese. “A lad always needs food, especially one as slender as ye are.”
Annabella thanked the woman for her kindness, eating her offering, saving her own oatcakes for the morning. She did not sleep heavily, afraid of missing Angus when he came riding by. She was up before the dawn, and saddled her mount, watching through the open barn door, feeling relieved to see him go by. Pulling an oatcake from her saddlebag, she mounted up and joined the early morning traffic upon the road. She ate the oatcake as she rode. At a fork in the road she saw a sign pointing in one direction to Edinburgh and in the other toward Leith. She reached the port that afternoon, going directly to the Mermaid to stable her horse. It was by good fortune she overheard her husband speaking with the innkeeper.
“What ships sail for France on the evening tide?” Angus asked.
“Two,” the innkeeper said. “One for Calais and the other for Brest in Brittany. Merchant vessels both, wi’ room for passengers. Which do ye prefer?”
“The ship bound for Brest,” Angus said.
“Captain is in my taproom right now,” the innkeeper said. “Come along, my lord, and I’ll point him out to ye.”
Annabella followed at a discreet distance, watching as her husband booked his passage and paid the captain. When he had completed his business the earl sat down at a table and ordered a good hot dinner. Annabella went to the ship’s captain.
“I should like to book passage on yer vessel bound for Brest,” she said.
“Would ye now, lad?” The captain grinned. “Ye’re a wee bit young to be making such a long voyage. ’Twill be at least ten days.”
“And I’ll probably be sick most of the way,” Annabella said, chortling. “Nonetheless I must get to Brest, sir, though I not be fond of the sea.”
The captain laughed in return. “ ’Twill cost ye a silver piece. Unless ye would prefer to work for yer passage.”
“My mistress would nae like that,” Annabella said, handing him the fare he required of her. “She’s a jealous woman.”
The captain laughed heartily this time. “Ye’re yer lady’s pet, are ye? Yet she sends ye off on some secret errand.” He fingered the silver piece, noting it was unclipped.
“Her husband dallies in France, and she is suspicious that he has taken a mistress for himself there. I am to go and learn the truth of the matter,” Annabella said.
“The lady trusts ye, which is to the good, but yer master will nae thank ye if his wife’s suspicions prove truth,” the captain said.
“He’ll nae ever see me,” Annabella confided, suddenly enjoying her ruse.
“We sail wi’ the tide just after six this evening,” the captain said. “My ship is called theGazelle. That gentleman over there will be sailing wi’ us too.” He pointed to the earl. “Be on time, lad. We’ll nae wait for ye!”
“I’ll be there,” Annabella said. Then, taking the earl’s lead, she found a quiet corner where she could watch Angus. When he got up to leave, she would too.
A serving wench came over to her table. “What will ye be drinking?” she asked.
“Cider, if ye hae it,” Annabella answered, “and some bread and cheese.”
“Cider, is it,” the girl teased. “A fine laddie like yerself?” She leaned down, revealing a pair of very plump breasts.
Annabella swallowed hard, then said, “I’ve nae a head for spirits, and as I am on an important mission for my mistress, I dare not miss sailing on theGazellethis evening.” She chucked the servant beneath the chin with what appeared regretful interest.
