She nodded. “I told my uncle I’d give it to him if he set me free, but he wouldn’t take it.”
Sadie tilted her head in confusion. “Why not? I thought that’s what he wanted.”
Iseabail did, too, but she’d long since given up trying to understand the man. “He says it would be dishonorable.” What he probably meant was that it would appear dishonorable, and he couldn’t do that. He had no difficulty murdering people in their sleep so long as no one knew it was him who had killed her father. But Iseabail knew. As had her mother.
Sadie pulled her down to sit on the bed. “How did you escape?”
“I drugged the men with the laudanum they’ve been giving me. Then I ran.”
“All the way here? But that’s miles!”
What could she say to that? It was true. She’d done it because she was desperate. “I have to hide, Sadie. If he finds me, he’ll kill me. Or marry me to that monster.” She grasped her friend’s hands. “I’ll do anything. I’ll scrub the floors, I’ll slop the pigs. You have to hide me.”
Sadie shook her head. “He’ll find you here. We sell him copper, and too many people already saw you arrive.”
Iseabail felt the walls close in on her. What would she do if Sadie couldn’t help? There were no other options. Even her mad dash across Scotland had been an act of insane desperation. Her mind spun into darkness, and she had no strength to speak or cry or even stop the descent. All she knew was fear beating inside her until she heard Sadie cry her name.
“Iseabail! Iseabail, listen. I have an idea.”
Did she? That was good because Iseabail had nothing left.
“Connall’s taking me to London. You remember my cousin? I’m to have my Season there. We’re leaving as soon as the shearing’s done.”
“London?” That was far away. Maybe far enough that her uncle couldn’t find her.
“Yes.” Sadie smiled, and the expression softened the care lines around her face. “I’m to find a husband.”
“In London? Why go there?”
“Why not there? My blood is good enough, my dowry, too. There’s no one here who I want so—”
“Take me with you,” Iseabail begged. “I’ll be your maid. My uncle won’t find me there. I can be free.” The wordfreeechoed in her head. Anything was better than what her life had been there.
“I don’t know if I can,” Sadie said, biting her lip. “My cousin thinks it’s just me.”
Iseabail gripped her mother’s necklace, the only proof she had of her identity. It was a dragon in the vague shape of a shield, and it said to those who believed the old tales that her heart beat for Scotland as a woman descended of many women, all bound to the land. According to her mother, with the necklace came a dowry of five hundred gold coins to be handed to Iseabail’s husband. Truthfully, she doubted that a single coin was left. Her uncle had probably spent them all, but he liked to pretend he was a man of honor. And so the story of her dowry was well known as was her title. In English circles, she was the Honorable Miss Spalding, granddaughter of the Earl of Spalding and ward of Baron Bain.
“Please, Sadie,” she begged. “I will do anything. Just hide me away.”
“Hiding you won’t be enough,” her friend said. Then she gestured to the pillows behind her. “Right now, you need sleep. We’ll face what’s to be done in the morning.”
“But—”
“Hush. Neither of us can think right now.”
Iseabail didn’t need much more urging. Her eyes were half-closed as it was. She nearly crawled to the bed, shedding her filthy clothes as she went. Moments later she was asleep.
Two days later, she was dressed as a maid, wrapped in a thick blanket, and headed to London.
