“Because I promised my cousin, Ian, my aid before I knew what he had in mind. I am a man of my word, come what may. Yer husband’s cattle were all I wanted, and because BrocCairn was so foolish as to leave his herds unguarded and because he will not come after me for fear of my harming you, I’ll soon be a rich man. But dinna accuse me of betraying Bothwell. I hae no part in that.”
“Without you, Ranald Torc, Ian could not accomplish his goal. The king accuses Lord Bothwell unfairly on the advice of his chancellor, Maitland. Do you want Maitland ruling Scotland through Jamie Stewart? Send me home tomorrow. You’ve gained the cattle, and if you speak the truth, ’tis all you really wanted.”
“I hae given my word,” replied Ranald Torc. “ ’Tis my most precious possession, Lady Gordon. I canna violate it.”
“Then be warned, Ranald Torc, that I shall try to escape, for I would not want to be the instrument of Lord Bothwell’s downfall.” Then, wrapping herself in her plaid, she lay down, turning her back to him.
Neither she nor Pansy, however, was given the opportunity to escape. The following day, as they set out, the women found that leading reins had been attached to both sides of their mounts’ bridles and armed men rode on either side of them, the leading reins in their grasp. Velvet was furious, but there was nothing that she could do, so she was forced to ride along quietly.
“We’ll have our chance in Edinburgh,” Pansy whispered to her in the night. “We’ll escape the little toady in the city, and he’ll not find us.”
“But once Maitland learns of Ian’s plan, even if I escape my bastard brother-in-law, I’ll not be safe,” fretted Velvet. “The king is not above using me himself to get at Francis. He simply never thought of it, Pansy. When Ian tells them of how he plans to capture Bothwell, the king and Maitland won’t hesitate to use me. We must escape Ian Grant before he reaches them. If he doesn’t have me, then perhaps Bothwell will be safe. Ian isn’t stupid enough to go to the king and present his plan unless he has his hostage. Without me they’ll throw him out of the palace.”
Several days later Ranald Torc sold BrocCairn’s cattle at a fair where, in light of the herd’s excellence, no questions were asked. Then they were off to Edinburgh: Ranald Torc, Alanna, Ian, Velvet, Pansy, and half a dozen of Shaw’s outlaws, the rest being sent back to their home for they were too expensive to maintain. Alanna insisted that Ranald Torc make good his promise to wed her, and at a small kirk near the city they were married, having declared before the preacher their state of handfast.
Then fate played into Velvet’s hand, for Ian, beginning to realize the enormity of what he had done and was about to attempt, decided that if he was to make good his escape to France before Alex found and killed him, they would be safer staying in Edinburgh’s port town, Leith. Knowing Bothwell’s favorite tavern in Leith to be the Golden Anchor, Ian decided that the exchange would take place there, and one of Ranald Torc’s men was dispatched to find the earl and tell him.
Ranald and Ian hid themselves and their captives in a slum near the waterfront, pretending to the landlady that they were two married couples—cousins they told her—and their servant. Ranald Torc had insisted that the rooms they rented be on the ground floor of the house to facilitate a quick escape should that become necessary. Ian was extremely irritated, for rooms at the top of the house would have cost him less.
There were only two rooms available, and at night the honeymooning couple closeted themsleves into the smaller room from which, much of the evening, there emitted a series of strange sounds. Added to this was the noise from the street outside, and the rats and fleas that infested their quarters. Ian spent his nights snoring loudly in a chair in the room with his captives, but Velvet did not get much sleep, and she began to fear that it would be impossible to escape, for neither she nor Pansy was allowed out of the apartment.
It was small consolation that Ranald Torc’s men were not sharing their quarters, there not being enough room. Those five were forced to fend for themselves, usually sleeping in doorways, alleyways, or, if they were lucky, with a friendly whore. Alanna and her new husband spent their days sightseeing, leaving Velvet and Pansy to bear Ian’s dull company and that of one or two of Ranald Torc’s men. Usually Velvet spoke with the outlaws, for they were simple men who, though they made their living in the world by robbery and occasionally killing, were basically friendly and respectful of the Countess of BrocCairn. They did not understand what was going on at all, but they obeyed their leader, and Ranald Shaw had brought them to Leith.
Their food came from a nearby cookhouse, Ian fetching it at midday, or if he was drunk, which happened more frequently, sending one of Ranald Torc’s men for it. Ian was becoming increasingly nervous and irritable. It had been ten days since he had kidnapped his sister-in-law and aided in the theft of his brother-in-law’s cattle, and they had not heard from BrocCairn, nor had the two messengers they had sent toHuntleyreturned. Until he heard from Alex, Ian dared not contact Maitland.
Velvet’s calm began to annoy him, and one day he shouted at her, “Perhaps BrocCairn doesna want ye back, after all! Perhaps he has thought better of taking to wife an infidel’s whore.”
Velvet was not disturbed by his words. She knew her husband and she was certain she had his love. Looking at Ian Grant, she said wickedly, “Perhaps it’s just that he’s coming to murder you, Ian. This is Lord Bothwell’s territory. Remember, he was once lord admiral of Scotland. They’re looking for you, Ian, and when they find you, you’re a dead man! I warned you!”
“Ye bitch!” he shouted at her, leaping to his feet a trifle unsteadily, for he’d been drinking most of the day. “I’ll nae be cheated of my gold! I’m going to Maitland now! I’ll turn ye over to him and be done wi’ ye! I’m tired of yer face, and Maitland will gie me my gold. I’ll nae be cheated of it! I won’t!” And then he stumbled from the room and out into the street.
Surprised, Velvet and Pansy looked at one another. They were alone, their guards having gone to the cookhouse for the evening meal. Wordlessly, they grabbed their cloaks and fled the apartment before Ian realized what he had done, or their guards returned, or Ranald Torc and Alanna came back. Grasping her tiring woman by the hand, Velvet hurried her along, not quite knowing where they were going, but remembering vaguely that they were near the waterfront itself. It would soon be dark, and she was terrified that they would be caught on the streets in this strange place by men looking for whores.
“Where are we going, m’lady?” gasped Pansy as they ran. “To the docks!” replied Velvet.
“But why? Can’t we go straight home toDun Broc?”
Velvet could smell the sea now, and, pulling Pansy with her, she rounded a corner. To her relief, she had somehow managed to find her way to the waterfront, and there was a fairly respectable-looking tavern, its sign a brightly painted golden anchor proclaiming its name. “Pull your hood up,” she commanded her tiring woman, and Pansy obeyed. Together they entered the inn, and when the landlord came forward, Velvet said, “I am seeking passage for France for my servant and myself. Can you recommend a respectable ship?”
“Any particular port?” demanded the landlord.
“I am bound for Nantes,” she said, “but if you know of a decent vessel headed for any French port that would accept a gentlewoman and her servant, I should like to book passage.”
“There are several vessels leaving wi’ the tide tonight, but only one I know is calling at Nantes. ’Tis an O’Malley-Small trading vessel headed for the Levant. It’s captained by a young lad wi’ his first command, a protégé of one of the owners. His name is Michael Small, nae relation to the owner, but he took his name, I understand, from the man who took him in as a boy. He’s a good man, and I’ll arrange it for ye if ye like.”
“Thank you,” said Velvet, “I would appreciate it, sir.” She reached into her jerkin for her purse, but the landlord cautioned her severely.
“Dinna show me yer gold, madame, until I know whether he’ll take ye or not. Ye dinna know who’s watching.”
Warned, Velvet removed her hand and asked, “Is there a private place where my servant and I might wait, and could you bring us some food?”
The landlord led them to a small private room, and shortly afterwards a rosy-cheeked serving girl brought them first warm water with which to bathe their face and hands, and then a hot meal that consisted of a roasted chicken, two small, steaming meat pies, bread, cheese, and baked apples with cream. There was good brown ale to drink, and both Velvet and Pansy stuffed themselves. The food that Ian had given them hadn’t been very appetizing, and they had eaten it merely to stay alive long enough to be freed.
“God, I wish I could have a bath,” Velvet said feelingly. “I’m beginning to smell, but without clean clothes what good would it do?” She sighed.
Pansy nodded mournfully. “Perhaps once we’re on board ship and we tell Captain Michael Small who we are …”
Velvet did not let her tiring woman even finish. “No! We cannot tell him, Pansy. No one must know who we are, especially Captain Small. Uncle Robbie found Michael, beaten, in an alley many years ago,” Velvet continued. “He was only a boy then. Uncle Robbie brought him aboard his ship, healed him, and made him a cabin boy. It was before I was born, Pansy. Michael couldn’t even remember his last name, and so Uncle Robbie gave him his. We’ll be safe aboard an O’Malley-Small ship, but Captain Small doesn’t know me so he won’t be able to tell anyone where we are.”
