‘I won’t hurt you,’ she called, this time as gently as she could.The almost inaudible sniffing continued unabated. Hesitantly Jennifer put a foot down on the first step. ‘Will you let me help you?’ she asked, scrutinising the gloom below her and taking another step down.
‘Gonnae no’ dae that,’ a small voice responded, surprisingly firmly.
‘You want me to stay here?’ No response. ‘Please, I want to help you.’
‘Ye gat anythin’ tae eat Maistres?’
‘My brother will be here very soon. If you’re hungry, I can take you to my home. They’ll give you lots to eat there.’ Jennifer hoped it was true. She’d certainly have some explaining to do returning half naked with an urchin in tow.
‘Ah’m nae gaun anywhere wi’ ye,’ the voice returned promptly.
Before she could take another step, there was the sound of footsteps and the door to the boat shed abruptly opened and a voice shouted, ‘Jennifer?’
Sighing with relief, Jennifer hurriedly pulled the blankets tight around her and stepped back up into the small cockpit. ‘I’m here,’ she returned fighting tears of her own.
‘Thank God.’ Peter’s head appeared and behind him was Brendon Galbraith. Absurdly, Jennifer felt her face suffuse with warmth for the second time in as many hours. She was almost alarmed by the feeling of excitement that rushed through her at the sight of the large Scot. Was she imagining the heat of his stare behind her brother’s back? An excited bark brought her back to her predicament.
‘Yer dog led us here,’ Brendon explained gruffly, clearly uncomfortable with the statement - a half-truth at best.
Peter blinked as he took in her state of undress. ‘I fell intothe loch and had to take off my wet clothes as you can see,’ Jennifer commented in her most matter-of-fact manner. ‘To avoid catching an ague, naturally.’
Peter sighed and glanced back at Brendon. ‘It’s fortunate I listened to your advice about a horse, Galbraith,’ he declared ruefully. Jennifer thought she was the only one who caught the wince in Brendon’s answering shrug.
‘I take it you’re not injured in any way?’ Peter continued, turning back towards the boat. Jennifer shook her head. ‘Do you think you can ride and maintain your modesty?’ he added drily.
‘I’m certain I can,’ she answered determinedly, clutching her blankets. ‘But before we go, there’s a slight problem.’
‘I assume we’re no longer talking about the problem of getting my naked sister back to the house with no one the wiser aside from the previously unmet gentleman standing beside me?’ He clicked his fingers and added, ‘Or of course, controlling a horse whilst holding on to the vast number of garments you appear to have removed?’
Jennifer gave a slight frown, then shrugged and nodded. ‘There’s a child in the cabin,’ she declared bluntly, ignoring the small cry of protest coming from down the stairs behind her. ‘I think whoever it is has been hiding there for some time, and he or she is very hungry.’
While Peter stared at her as if she’d lost her wits, Brendon frowned and immediately stepped onto the boat. ‘Ah’m thinkin’ ye should be takin’ yer sister ma lord while I look tae the bairn,’ he suggested over his shoulder.
Many members of England’s upper echelons might well have bristled at the Scot’s authoritative tone, but like his father, Peter didn’t have an egotistical bone in his body. He also possessed the Duke’s practical streak, so he merely nodded and stepped forward to help his sister out of the boat.
‘Caerlaverock is closest,’ Jennifer declared as she took her brother’s hand. ‘Bring the child straight to the house.’ Then she paused before adding in a low tone, ‘I think it might well be a boy. Please don’t frighten him.’
Brendon shook his head. ‘Ah would’nae m’lady. The lad’ll be safe wi’ me.’ He stood and watched as Jennifer Sinclair climbed out of the boat, looking for all the world as though she was acceding to a dance request. He couldn’t hold back a sudden grin. Then, shaking his head at the bewildering vagaries of women, he turned and stood at the door to the cabin, blocking it entirely should the child decide to run.
‘Ye cannae stay there foraye, lad. Ye’ll starve,’ he murmured, his voice calm.
‘Ye cannae stand there foraye naither,’ came the impudent response. Clearly the lad wasn’t yetthathungry.
‘Ah ken. An’ ah’m naegaunnae, but ah’m nae leavin’ wi’oot ye.’
‘Gaun jus’ bugger aff wid ye.’ The response was defiant, but with an undercurrent of fear that spoke volumes.
With a sigh, Brendon ducked his head and went slowly down the steps, giving his eyes time to adjust to the gloom. In the far corner, what looked like a bundle of rags suddenly moved.
‘Ah’ll nae hurt ye lad,’ holding his hand out in a placating gesture. ‘What be yer name?’
‘There was a pause and a sniff, then, ‘Finn.’
‘If ye come wi’ me, Finn, ah’ll see yer giein a hot meal. Hoo aboot some mealie puddin? That dae ye?’ Brendon thought the child would probably jump on dry bread and water.
For a full minute, the lad didn’t move, then slowly, the rags unfolded, and the boy stood up. Brendon had to suppress a groan at the sorry sight the lad presented. He was little more than skinand bone. ‘Can ye walk, Finn?’
‘Course ah can bloody walk.’ The impudence was still there, but underneath, Brendon could see the lad was actually trembling. He might even collapse before they reached Caerlaverock. Swearing under his breath, Brendon retreated back to up to the cockpit and waited.
