His teeth chattering, Gideon said, “I’m so—cold… Jamie.”
“Yes, dear boy, and small wonder. You came home torn to rags, and in no case for what has been levelled at you here. I vow you’d have had a better chance at recovery had you gone back to the Regiment! Come—we’ll find something to warm your innards, and you’ll feel more the thing in no time. I only wish Tummet was here. He’d know—”
“Tummet!”Gideon’s head jerked up. His eyes brightened, and a faint flush showed on his drawn cheeks. Gripping Morris by the shoulders, he said vehemently, “Of course! Tummet! That rascal’s hot after them, I’ll wager! If all else fails, he’ll be able to tell us where they’ve taken her!”
It was then five minutes past twelve o’clock, Saturday afternoon.
***
“Lookit all this ’ere muck! A man might think as ’is ’igh and mightiness would’ve kept it clean!”
“Aye. A daft mon might think that, Billy lad! Can ye no juist picture the grrreat mon hissel’, squatting on his noble haunches tae gather up old sacks and rubbish? And for why should he? He didnae invite the bonnie lassie tae drink a dish o’tea wi’ him!”
A laugh went up, and the first voice grumbled, “Orl right, Mac. Orl right. Laugh. But you’d best ’ave a care wi’ the candles. One spark and this ruin’ll be a perishin’ bonfire afore we’re ready!”
A constant creaking and thumping from somewhere outside made it difficult to hear what was said downstairs, but that ominous snatch of conversation penetrated the veil of sleep. Naomi opened her eyes very wide and began to remember.
When these ruffians had ridden between her and Gwendolyn she’d thought for an instant that they were either very rude individuals, or some friends playing a trick on her. That momentary bewilderment ended when a strong arm had swept about her shoulders, a hand had clamped over her mouth, and a harsh voice had warned that if she made a fuss her friend would be killed. Unable to see whether Gwendolyn was also held captive, she’d had no choice but to submit, scarcely able to believe that this was happening in broad daylight.
A carriage had waited at the edge of the park. As once before, she’d been tossed unceremoniously inside, but this time two hooded men had seized her in brutal hands, to quiet her struggles and gag and tie her. A foul-smelling hood had been dragged over her head, and, blinded, torn between rage and terror, she had been driven away. The ropes hurt her wrists; bounced about on the seats, listening to the coarse jests of her captors, she was scarcely able to breathe, and her mouth had felt dry as sand by the time they stopped somewhere. The hood was taken off and the gag removed. A big man sat opposite, and there were others on each side of her, all wearing those terrifying hoods. Curtains were drawn across the carriage windows, but she’d heard bird songs and thought they were somewhere in amongst trees.
The man opposite had said, “Don’t you scream now, milady. No one wouldn’t hear you. ’Sides, we don’t mean you no harm, long as you behave.” Her immediate attempt to speak had been foiled by her dry throat. The man on her right thrust a flask at her, saying in a growl of a voice that it was “only lemonade, but we thought you’d like it better’n gin.” She had drunk thirstily and found it sweet and wonderfully cool. But it had been more than lemonade evidently, for she remembered nothing from that moment until she had awoken to find herself being carried up a narrow stair and laid on a cot, her head aching so miserably that she’d been glad to fall asleep again.
Her head was easier now, and she began to look about. She was in a room about nine feet square that smelled of dust and something else she could not quite identify. The walls were of crumbling stone and looked as if they’d never seen paint. Far above was a half-loft, evidently blessed with a window, for the only light came from that area. There was no ladder, however, and without one it might as well have been on the moon for all the hope she had of reaching it. The cot she lay on was positioned against one wall, and the blankets and pillows were clean and sweet smelling. Driven by curiosity, she sat up, and received another surprise. Opposite was a small table on which were a standing mirror, a hairbrush and comb, some copies ofThe Spectator,a Bible, and a book of poetry. Adjacent to the table was a washstand with soap, towels, a bowl and pitcher, and on a nearby chair, a warm dressing gown.
She heard footsteps, and sprang up hurriedly as the door opened. A man entered, wearing a loose face mask that reached down to his mouth, and carrying a laden tray. One plate was piled with thick slices of buttered bread, cold ham, and a large portion of cheese; a smaller plate held a piece of rhubarb pie, and there was also a glass of ale.
“I’m waeful sorry we had tae scare ye, ma’am,” he said, putting the tray on the table. “’It goes agin the grrrain wi’ me tae mishandle a wench. But ye’ll nae come tae grrrief lest ye gie us trrrouble. Ye can see we’ve made provision fer ye yonder, and there’s a, er—” He broke off, and ended with a shy gesture, “Under the wee bed.”
The small part of his face that was visible below the mask had reddened. He retained a vestige of decency, evidently. Encouraged, Naomi said, “You’re the one they call Mac. A Scot, I think.”
“I am that. And dinna be readying tae make me a brrribe, milady. Me life’s nae worrrth much, but such as ’tis I’m partial tae it, y’ken.”
She had been preparing for just such an offer, and hoping she sounded unafraid, she said scornfully, “You will surely hang when my father finds me. If you’re a rebel trying to gather funds to buy you safe passage to France, I could arrange for you to get twice that much.”
He grinned. “Ye’re a cool one, and ye’ve come tae the right of’t, sure enough, but dinna fash yesel, lassie. Your pa’s not aboot tae find ye in this Godforsaken spot. And was I tae go against the Squire, I’d ne’er see the bonnie heather this side o’ judgment.” He turned to the door. “I’ll be—”
Naomi ran to touch his sleeve, then shrank back as he whirled on her, crouching, his lips drawing back from his teeth in a soundless snarl, a long knife appearing as if by magic in his hand.
“Go on, then,” she cried fiercely. “Kill me! Much good will I be to you then!”
Taking a long whistling breath, he straightened. “Dinnae’erdo that agin, woman! I nigh slit yer pretty gizzard!” He stared at her proud but pale face. “Och, but ’tis a lovely wee thing ye are! And I like a lassie wi’ spirit.”
Her hopes rising, she stretched out an imploring hand. “Then—help me! I’ll see you are not charged. I swear it!”
As if moved to pity, he said very softly, “I’ll tell ye this only—we mean ye nae harrrm, if yer pa does as he’s told. Likely he will, and ye’ll be safe home wi’ him this time t’morrer.” He went out, and pulled the door shut.
The sound of a bar slamming down on the other side was echoed by a sharper crack. Naomi heard alarmed shouts and flew to press her ear against the heavy oak door.
She heard the Scot call, “What’s aboot?”
Another voice answered, “Bill saw a cove skulking around.”
“Losh, mon! ’Twas likely juist a poacher. He didnae shoot him, I hope? We’ll hae the Runners doon here like flies if—”
Bill’s dour tones then, holding a note of triumph. “There’ll be no Runners, Mac. I caught the perisher square and ’e went into the river.” He chuckled. “Very accommodating, I must say.”
“And very needless,” said a high-pitched voice angrily. “You got us inter a Capital Act is what you done!”
