started downhill together, Elisabeth asked, “Have you any news of Simon?” When he shook his head, she explained, “I thought that might be why your father summoned me to the shop.”
“Aye…weel…” Rob cleared his throat, his face turning ruddy. “’Twas not my faither’s idea.”
“But—”
“I meant to be waiting at the foot o’ yer stair,” Rob said in a rush of words. “To escort ye to Netherbow Port so ye might watch the Hielanders enter the toun and mebbe catch sight o’ yer brither. But the army slipped through the gate sooner than we thocht …” He shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “Forgive me, Leddy Kerr. I didna mean for ye to be alone on a murky street with Lochiel’s men.”
“I was not alone for long,” Elisabeth reminded him.
Rob glanced back over his shoulder. “Keppoch, Ardshiel, and theirclansmen are gathering at Parliament Close. ’Twill be a rude awakening for the magistrates.”
And for the Kerrs . Elisabeth gathered her cape about her. “I must away, sir.”
“So ye must.” He glanced up at the sky, growing lighter by the second, then turned his dark gaze on her. “Make haste, milady, or ye’ll be missed.”
Fourteen
All is to be feared
where all is to be lost.
GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON
H ome. Home. Home.
The words pounded in Elisabeth’s heart as she fairly flew down the High Street toward Milne Square. She could not delay, or the household might wake to find her gone.
Nae, a hundred times nae!
Only now did the gravity of her situation sink in. A married woman of quality always traveled with a chaperone, not only for her own safety, but also to guard her husband’s good name. Yet she’d dashed into the street without giving either concern a passing thought. Elisabeth weighed those things now, hastening across the empty courtyard. However would she explain her absence?
Mr. MacPherson sent an urgent summons . No need to mention which MacPherson. With the rebel army upon us, our visit could not wait for dawn . That sounded plausible, did it not? I thought it might concern my Highland family . Surely the Kerrs would be sympathetic, unless the dowager demanded to know where her daughter-in-law’s loyalties rested.
The first light of day followed Elisabeth up the forestair: a pale wash of gray lapping at her skirts. She turned at the landing and tarried beside Mr. Baillie’s doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the darker steps ahead, wishing her candle still burned.
All at once the merchant flung open his door, startling Elisabeth out of her wits.
“Leddy Kerr,” he cried, “I thocht ye a bluidy rebel!” Mr. Baillie sank against the doorjamb, knocking his nightcap askew. His gray hair stuck out like pins in a cushion, and his chin bore two days’ worth of stubble. “Pardon my appearance, mem. I feared the Hieland army had slipped into toun like reivers in the nicht.”
“So they did,” she confessed. “A small company took the guardhouse.”
Mr. Baillie groaned. “Here at last, then. But are there not thousands o’ men?”
Rob MacPherson’s tally came to mind, but she thought better of sharing it. Instead, she repeated Donald’s words. “Not so many as that.”
“Whatever the number, we’ve an unchancie day afore us.” The merchant wagged his head. “’Twas kind o’ ye to bring yer auld landlord the news.”
Elisabeth fell back a step. Mr. Baillie thought she was abroad for his benefit! How else to account for her appearance at his door? She held her tongue, rather than speak a lie into the cool morning air.
“Awa with ye now, Leddy Kerr.” He glanced up the stair with a weary smile. “Ye’ll be wanted at hame.”
Elisabeth lifted her skirts and dashed up the stone steps, her heart pounding like a brass clapper, as the bells of Saint Giles tolled the hour of six. Too late, too late . Why had she tarried in the street and on the stair? Gibson and Mrs. Edgar were surely awake by now, though without Peg’s assistance, they might
“Aye…weel…” Rob cleared his throat, his face turning ruddy. “’Twas not my faither’s idea.”
“But—”
“I meant to be waiting at the foot o’ yer stair,” Rob said in a rush of words. “To escort ye to Netherbow Port so ye might watch the Hielanders enter the toun and mebbe catch sight o’ yer brither. But the army slipped through the gate sooner than we thocht …” He shrugged, clearly embarrassed. “Forgive me, Leddy Kerr. I didna mean for ye to be alone on a murky street with Lochiel’s men.”
“I was not alone for long,” Elisabeth reminded him.
Rob glanced back over his shoulder. “Keppoch, Ardshiel, and theirclansmen are gathering at Parliament Close. ’Twill be a rude awakening for the magistrates.”
And for the Kerrs . Elisabeth gathered her cape about her. “I must away, sir.”
“So ye must.” He glanced up at the sky, growing lighter by the second, then turned his dark gaze on her. “Make haste, milady, or ye’ll be missed.”
Fourteen
All is to be feared
where all is to be lost.
GEORGE GORDON, LORD BYRON
H ome. Home. Home.
The words pounded in Elisabeth’s heart as she fairly flew down the High Street toward Milne Square. She could not delay, or the household might wake to find her gone.
Nae, a hundred times nae!
Only now did the gravity of her situation sink in. A married woman of quality always traveled with a chaperone, not only for her own safety, but also to guard her husband’s good name. Yet she’d dashed into the street without giving either concern a passing thought. Elisabeth weighed those things now, hastening across the empty courtyard. However would she explain her absence?
Mr. MacPherson sent an urgent summons . No need to mention which MacPherson. With the rebel army upon us, our visit could not wait for dawn . That sounded plausible, did it not? I thought it might concern my Highland family . Surely the Kerrs would be sympathetic, unless the dowager demanded to know where her daughter-in-law’s loyalties rested.
The first light of day followed Elisabeth up the forestair: a pale wash of gray lapping at her skirts. She turned at the landing and tarried beside Mr. Baillie’s doorway, letting her eyes adjust to the darker steps ahead, wishing her candle still burned.
All at once the merchant flung open his door, startling Elisabeth out of her wits.
“Leddy Kerr,” he cried, “I thocht ye a bluidy rebel!” Mr. Baillie sank against the doorjamb, knocking his nightcap askew. His gray hair stuck out like pins in a cushion, and his chin bore two days’ worth of stubble. “Pardon my appearance, mem. I feared the Hieland army had slipped into toun like reivers in the nicht.”
“So they did,” she confessed. “A small company took the guardhouse.”
Mr. Baillie groaned. “Here at last, then. But are there not thousands o’ men?”
Rob MacPherson’s tally came to mind, but she thought better of sharing it. Instead, she repeated Donald’s words. “Not so many as that.”
“Whatever the number, we’ve an unchancie day afore us.” The merchant wagged his head. “’Twas kind o’ ye to bring yer auld landlord the news.”
Elisabeth fell back a step. Mr. Baillie thought she was abroad for his benefit! How else to account for her appearance at his door? She held her tongue, rather than speak a lie into the cool morning air.
“Awa with ye now, Leddy Kerr.” He glanced up the stair with a weary smile. “Ye’ll be wanted at hame.”
Elisabeth lifted her skirts and dashed up the stone steps, her heart pounding like a brass clapper, as the bells of Saint Giles tolled the hour of six. Too late, too late . Why had she tarried in the street and on the stair? Gibson and Mrs. Edgar were surely awake by now, though without Peg’s assistance, they might
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