“You’re certain of this, lassie?” Hamish looked like a man on his way to his death as he wrung his hands, watching as Margery gathered her few things.

“I am. And I cannot tell you what it means for you to lend me the money for passage to Edinburgh. I promise to pay you back just as soon as I can.”

“None of this makes any sense, if you don’t mind my saying.” He followed her out into the still-dark tavern, the sun far from rising.

It meant everything that she be able to leave before Derek found out she’d gone. The ship was meant to leave at dawn—if she were on it in time, he wouldn’t be able to stop her.

“It’s impossible for me to explain. I cannot stay, and my sister needs me to go on. I’ll start somewhere else, somewhere where there are more opportunities.”

“You believe you’ll find that in Edinburgh? Or anywhere else? On your own, lass?”

“Please, don’t try to stop me now. This is difficult enough.” She slid her braid beneath the back of her tunic, which she’d washed and dried after scrubbing the kitchen—as though she knew she would need it again, and soon. It wouldn’t do to travel looking like a woman, even if the costume did little to conceal her womanly figure.

What Hamish didn’t know, but would find out soon enough, was that she’d stolen a knife from the kitchen and stowed it in her pack. She wouldn’t make the mistake of going unarmed ever again.

“It isn’t because of what happened last night, is it? Because I can be sure that sort of thing never happens again.”

“How?” she asked, close to the end of her tether. “How can anyone?”

“There are ways…”

She held up one hand, palm out, taking a deep breath to keep from exploding in frustration. “I don’t blame you for what happened. I don’t, at all. But there is no way to be certain such a thing won’t happen—in the meantime, I would have to sleep in that room. Every night. I would have to serve patrons every day and wonder if one of them were him—I never did get a good look at his face, you know, so I would always wonder. I would never have a peaceful moment again.”

His shoulders fell, his breath coming out in a long sigh. “I understand. I hadn’t thought about it that way, but now I understand.”

“Would you ask your wife or daughter to go through such a situation?” she pressed.

“Of course, I wouldn’t. I understand what you have to do, lass. I only wish I didn’t feel as though you were leaving because of my failure to keep you safe here.”

She patted his arm. “It isn’t your fault. You’ve been more than generous.” She patted the pouch tied to the belt around her waist. “And I do promise to repay you.”

“I know you do, and I trust that you will do your best. Even if you don’t manage to…”

“I will.”

A glance out the window told her the sky was just beginning to lighten in the east. Dawn was still a way off, but it was close, and she would need to be waiting to board.

“I’ll go alone,” she urged when Hamish appeared to be ready to follow her outside. “It will be easier for me this way.”

“You’ll send word when you’ve arrived?”

She smiled. “You care that much?”

The question clearly left him embarrassed, and he scuffed his toes against the straw-covered floor. “You’re a nice lass. A good sort. I hate to see a good sort get pushed around.”

She shrugged, still smiling. “Perhaps it’s time to employ a young man here? One who can take care of himself while still pouring ale?”

He saw the humor in this and was chuckling as she stepped outside. It was nice to hear his good humor behind her as she walked down the street. Cool, damp air nipped at her cheeks and turned them pink. Likely one of the last truly chilled mornings, she guessed.

All around her, candles and fires were beginning to light the insides of the homes she walked past. That was the way life went here, and throughout Margery’s existence as well. Up before dawn, the day ending not very long past the setting of the sun.

Life would go on here when she was gone. It would be as though she had never stepped foot off the ship. How many people felt that way, as though they’d been chewed up and spit out like a piece of gristle? As though they might just as well never have existed?

Was this what life would be like in Edinburgh?

It would have to be what it was. She had a responsibility to Beatrice. The sooner she got settled and saved enough money, the sooner they could be together again.

But they couldn’t be together in Kirkcaldy. What a godforsaken place. She hoped to never see it or hear of it again.

Even if it meant never seeing Derek again.

She quickened her step as she passed the spot where he’d given her lessons on how to defend herself. Her heartbeat quickened, too, even though thoughts of him holding her were all mixed up with the memory of how little his instruction had helped the night before.

What would’ve happened if he hadn’t come in?

No sense in thinking about that, or about any of it. It was all in the past, just as memories of endless hours and days and years spent at her mother’s bedside were nothing but shadows of what used to be. They had nothing to do with the present, would do nothing to help her with what she needed to do.

The ship was there, waiting out on the water. Rowboats waited at the dock to collect passengers and any cargo being carried onboard. There were already two boats manned by muscled sailors being rowed out to where the tall, proud looking vessel waited.

She swallowed hard, hesitating. Why was she hanging back so? Her direction had already been determined, her path set. She would go, she would make a success of her plan. She would not fail. She must not fail.

More than just her future hinged on her success.

An old man with rough hands and even rougher clothing noticed her standing there, alone. “Aye, are ye for the ship leaving for Edinburgh, then?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but suddenly found herself without the ability to do so. Her mouth was dry, her tongue thick. Her heart began hammering in her chest, a sick feeling she wished would go away.

“Lass? Are ye hearing me?” The old man stepped closer, a hat pulled low over his eyes, his torn trousers stained and poorly patched. He rubbed his hands on them as if to clean them somewhat before touching her shoulder. “Are ye well, lassie?”

Did she look ill? She was behaving as though she had some sickness. “Yes,” she managed to croak, “I’m well. Please, excuse me. It’s just that I’m a little nervous.”

She looked down at herself with a laugh. “You knew right away that I’m not a boy? Even with this?” She touched her hand to her hat.

“Aye, but I’ll keep your secret,” he winked. “So? Are you for the ship?”

It was time to stiffen her back as well as her resolve.

“Yes. I am.”