‘If anythin’ be getting ‘em afloat it’ll be their bellies,’ Dougal answered. ‘What food dae ye hae left?’
The four men pooled their supplies and came up with two heels of now dry bread, a lump of cheese and and some dried beef. ‘It’s not much between twenty-two hungry children,’ the Reverend growled.
‘It’ll be more ‘an they be used tae,’ Dougal predicted. ‘Here, gie us a hand.’ With the clergyman’s help, he divided the meagre fare into twenty-two small piles. As he was counting, ReverendShackleford thought back to his conversation with Finn and felt a singular sense of inevitability. ‘Can ah come wi’ ye tae Blackmore…’
Hurriedly, he thrust the memory away and concentrated on the task at hand.
‘There’s food for all who’ll get in the boat,’ Malcolm promised, holding out a small piece of bread.
It was enough. Quicker than they could have imagined, the children clambered into the two boats.
The four men handed a small portion of food to each child which predictably disappeared in an instant. As soon as they’d finished, Malcolm climbed on board to ensure the weight was evenly distributed. ‘Be sure ye sit tight and dinnae move a muscle,’ he ordered. ‘Ye’ll need tae cover yer heads soon as the midges start.’
‘Ye dinnae need tae teach yer granny tae suck eggs,’ scoffed a small voice. There was a smattering of giggles, and Malcolm grinned in relief. Plainly, the children’s fear was beginning to fade. He turned to the Reverend.
‘You an’ Dougal take the smaller boat. We’ll follow behind. Whatever happens, dinnae stop.’ He paused before adding, ‘God willin’ we’ll nae meet any other craft. Even if it’s nae the MacFarlane’s we’ll have a lot o’ bloody explainin’ tae dae.’
A few minutes later, both boats were afloat. Before climbing on board, Brendon had one last thing to do. Walking over to Fergus, he bent to stroke the dog’s ears. ‘Go home,’ he ordered the wolfhound in his sternest voice, then, more gently, ‘Home, boy. Ah’ll see ye there verra soon.’
∞∞∞
It was another half an hour before Jennifer was certain the trackthey were following led directly onto the Lochside. Obviously, Murray was more confident that anyone who came across them would belong to the MacFarlane Clan this close to home.
Jennifer had managed to get most of her jacket buttons undone, and while her captor was seeing to his business, she succeeded in undoing the buttons on her riding boots. With her hair unkempt and her clothing dirty and unfastened, she was beginning to look more like Haymarket ware. The sloppiness of her boots also made walking more difficult, but as long as he stayed on his side of the horse, he was unlikely to spot her dishevelment or notice she was walking like she needed to use the chamber pot. Which unfortunately she did. Quite badly in fact.
Shoving thoughts of her bladder aside, Jennifer kept her eyes on the loch. As soon as they reached the main path, she would have to make her move. She was confident she’d worked the rope sufficiently to be able to free her hand easily enough, and once they were close enough to the loch, she intended to kick off her boots as quietly as possible. She would have to run in stocking feet.
The most important thing was to take him by surprise, to give her enough time to throw off her jacket. Her skirt would have to come off while she was running. That was the sketchiest part of her plan. She’d been loath to try and undo any of the buttons lest her skirt fall down around her ankles which she was fairly certain would achieve the opposite of what she wanted.
Her heart began to thud in perfect time to the throbbing in her head. Groaning internally, she swore to herself that she would never again undertake such a totty-headed errand, and what’s more she would give Peter full permission to lock her up should she even look as though she was about to do anything foolish.
Five minutes later, they reached the Lochside. Unfortunately, Jennifer was on the side furthest away from the shore whichgave her captor an added advantage. Determinedly swallowing her fear, she began to ease her hand through the loosened rope until it was free. Keeping it in the same position by hanging onto the horse’s mane, she then began to ease off her boots, one at a time, hoping the footman wouldn’t happen to look back and see them lying on the track. Finally, in her stocking feet, she dropped her left arm to allow her jacket to begin sliding off her shoulder. She was sweating now, her fear a solid lump in the middle of her chest. Once she made her move, she had only seconds to drop her jacket and run.
Muttering a quick prayer, she eased her hand down the mare’s flank and stopped. Hardly daring to breathe, she slipped off the rest of her jacket and let it drop to the ground. The horse was now almost past her and still Murray hadn’t noticed she was no longer beside him. It was now or never.
Taking a deep breath, she darted behind the mare and raced towards the edge of the loch, all the while fumbling with the buttons at the back of her skirt. She didn’t look back on hearing his sudden shout, but inside she was screaming with fear. If he caught her now, he’d likely kill her.
She couldn’t undo the bloody buttons! In desperation she yanked at the waistband and after a few seconds felt the buttons give. She could hear his breathing behind her as she let the skirt fall and kept on running – down the bank now, only feet from the water.
She felt his arm reach out, his fingers clutch her petticoat, just for one instant before the fabric tore and his hand fell away. Seconds later she jumped.
Chapter Twenty-One
Brendon looked anxiously around them as he and Malcolm rowed in the direction of Caerlaverock. With so many in the boat, it was slow going, but still, they were making better time than if they’d walked. The Reverend and Dougal were still arguing as far as he could tell, but as long as their boat continued in the right direction…
Instinctively, he glanced behind him, but there was no sign of any pursuit, either on the shore or the loch. God willing, they’d have until the morrow as Duncan MacFarlane promised.
As he rowed, Brendon wondered what Jennifer was doing now. Would she be worried – about him? Then he grimaced. Foolish thoughts. He needed to put Jennifer Sinclair out of his mind. Otherwise he’d go daft.
Abruptly, two things happened to pull him out of his reverie. Firstly, he heard a shout coming from the shore to their right. His heart plummeted. Had they been discovered? Then, as though she’d been pulled directly from his mind, he saw Jennifer running towards the loch. He narrowed his eyes.In just a petticoat?Hewasgoing daft.
At the same time, a small girl abruptly stood up in the boat. ‘Sit down, lass,’ Malcolm ordered.
‘Ah’m gaunnae boak,’ she cried out desperately. Plainly about tobe sick, the child instinctively leaned over the side of the boat. ‘Sit down,’ thundered Malcolm, fear clearly evident in his voice. But it was too late. The boat rocked to the side, and, with a terrified scream, the girl fell headfirst into the water.
At the same time, the woman Brendon still couldn’t quite believe was Jennifer, reached the edge of the loch, a man in close pursuit. The stranger stretched out his hand to seize the edge of her petticoat, but just as he managed to grab hold, the fabric tore and with a terrified scream, she jumped into the loch, leaving him with nothing but a scrap of fabric.
‘Take the oars,’ Malcolm was yelling frantically. Brendon’s eyes swung back to the petrified child floundering in the loch.Shit.
