Harry soaked a handkerchief, bathed his face and beat the dust and debris out of his clothes.
He remembered the flash of blue cloth at the window. Did she see him jump? Would she think he was dead? She seemed sure that no one survived such a leap. Without Matho’s help he would surely have been nothing but a crumpled heap at the bottom of the ravine by now.
Alina would soon find that he was not dead. If nothing else, she would see that Bessie had gone, along with all his gear. But before then, he imagined her father would be gnashing his teeth at the thought of a Scott escaped. Harry laughed quietly. Carnaby’s rage would be a thing to behold.
He was well out of it, and it would be the maddest folly to ride back into Aydon in the hope of seeing Alina again. For the moment he would concentrate on Edinburgh, and it was likely that after a day or two of strenuous activity, he would forget all about her. Then he could go back to his original plan and focus on finding a rich heiress.
Definitely a much safer plan.
***
Alina stood a pace behind her brothers, unwilling to meet the accusing look she imagined must be in Harry’s eyes as he was led from the dungeon. With a dreadful sickness rising in her stomach, she whirled on her mother. “Mama, there must be something we can say that will save Harry!”
With an unexpectedly gentle look in her eyes, her mother hurried to her side. Their hands met and clung together. “Come away, Alina. You should not watch.” Mama grasped her arm, drew her forcibly from the window. “I spoke to your father last night, but he was adamant the execution must go ahead.”
“He has no right to execute anybody,’ Alina cried. ‘Harry has done nothing. What Father is doing is not lawful….” The pain in her throat made her voice sound shrill. “How can I face Father after this?”
A hoarse, deep throated cry went up outside.
Alina broke from her mother’s grasp and rushed to the window. There was no sign of Harry. Every man, including her father, stared at the ravine where branches trembled as if a heavy body had hurtled through them. Sickness rose into her throat. Hand clapped over her mouth, Alina pushed her mother aside and rushed to the outside steps.
“Alina!” Her mother’s cries grew fainter behind her as Alina blundered down the wooden staircase.
Halfway down, she fell to her knees and vomited.
Huddling against the cold grey stone, she buried her face in her arms.
“My dear, are you….Alina? Please come back inside.” Mama’s voice came from the door at the head of the steps.
Alina blotted her tears on her skirt and scrambled to her feet. “I cannot stay.” She shook her head at Mama’s outstretched hand. “I cannot face Father.” Moving swiftly down the steps, she ran across the courtyard.
Barely aware of the few barns and cottages tucked around the gates, she headed out onto the lane and ran on.
An image of Harry tumbling through the air filled her head. Hitting trees, falling onto the sharp edged slabs and squares of dark, moss covered rock through which the burn ran down to Corbridge.
The stream she had played beside so often as a child.
Blinded by hot, stinging tears, she slowed and found herself in the boggy patch at the valley bottom. Uncaring of her soft leather shoes in the mud, she found her way across, and hurried on up the lane to Halton. Her breath rasped in an aching throat as she reached the churchyard, hurried by the church door and burst into the Halton Tower.
Squat, stone built and crenellated, the original tower had been built to withstand siege and fire more than two hundred years ago. When danger threatened, the family abandoned the modern, comfortable living accommodation built onto the tower’s east side and barricaded everyone into the sturdy Tower.
Alina headed to the house and thrust the heavy door open. Grandfather sat in a large carved chair between the fire and the latticed window, where sunlight fell across the pages of a
He remembered the flash of blue cloth at the window. Did she see him jump? Would she think he was dead? She seemed sure that no one survived such a leap. Without Matho’s help he would surely have been nothing but a crumpled heap at the bottom of the ravine by now.
Alina would soon find that he was not dead. If nothing else, she would see that Bessie had gone, along with all his gear. But before then, he imagined her father would be gnashing his teeth at the thought of a Scott escaped. Harry laughed quietly. Carnaby’s rage would be a thing to behold.
He was well out of it, and it would be the maddest folly to ride back into Aydon in the hope of seeing Alina again. For the moment he would concentrate on Edinburgh, and it was likely that after a day or two of strenuous activity, he would forget all about her. Then he could go back to his original plan and focus on finding a rich heiress.
Definitely a much safer plan.
***
Alina stood a pace behind her brothers, unwilling to meet the accusing look she imagined must be in Harry’s eyes as he was led from the dungeon. With a dreadful sickness rising in her stomach, she whirled on her mother. “Mama, there must be something we can say that will save Harry!”
With an unexpectedly gentle look in her eyes, her mother hurried to her side. Their hands met and clung together. “Come away, Alina. You should not watch.” Mama grasped her arm, drew her forcibly from the window. “I spoke to your father last night, but he was adamant the execution must go ahead.”
“He has no right to execute anybody,’ Alina cried. ‘Harry has done nothing. What Father is doing is not lawful….” The pain in her throat made her voice sound shrill. “How can I face Father after this?”
A hoarse, deep throated cry went up outside.
Alina broke from her mother’s grasp and rushed to the window. There was no sign of Harry. Every man, including her father, stared at the ravine where branches trembled as if a heavy body had hurtled through them. Sickness rose into her throat. Hand clapped over her mouth, Alina pushed her mother aside and rushed to the outside steps.
“Alina!” Her mother’s cries grew fainter behind her as Alina blundered down the wooden staircase.
Halfway down, she fell to her knees and vomited.
Huddling against the cold grey stone, she buried her face in her arms.
“My dear, are you….Alina? Please come back inside.” Mama’s voice came from the door at the head of the steps.
Alina blotted her tears on her skirt and scrambled to her feet. “I cannot stay.” She shook her head at Mama’s outstretched hand. “I cannot face Father.” Moving swiftly down the steps, she ran across the courtyard.
Barely aware of the few barns and cottages tucked around the gates, she headed out onto the lane and ran on.
An image of Harry tumbling through the air filled her head. Hitting trees, falling onto the sharp edged slabs and squares of dark, moss covered rock through which the burn ran down to Corbridge.
The stream she had played beside so often as a child.
Blinded by hot, stinging tears, she slowed and found herself in the boggy patch at the valley bottom. Uncaring of her soft leather shoes in the mud, she found her way across, and hurried on up the lane to Halton. Her breath rasped in an aching throat as she reached the churchyard, hurried by the church door and burst into the Halton Tower.
Squat, stone built and crenellated, the original tower had been built to withstand siege and fire more than two hundred years ago. When danger threatened, the family abandoned the modern, comfortable living accommodation built onto the tower’s east side and barricaded everyone into the sturdy Tower.
Alina headed to the house and thrust the heavy door open. Grandfather sat in a large carved chair between the fire and the latticed window, where sunlight fell across the pages of a
Similar Books
