Chapter Twenty-Eight
Evelyn took the wrapped satchel from Molly. “Thank you.”
“Don’t let them slit your throat, milady,” Molly said, throwing herself into Evelyn’s arms and then moving quickly to do the same to Scarlet. “Or shoot you full of holes.”
“No one is dying, Molly,” Scarlet said, sliding a glance toward Evelyn.
“I have such a terrible feeling,” Molly said, pulling back. Tears filled her wide eyes.
They stood in Scarlet’s bedroom, slowly gathering their things. Nathaniel had told them that he’d see them out in the bailey, but with Kirstin’s strange message, Evelyn wanted to give Nathaniel as long as possible to see what was going on.
“Once we leave,” Evelyn whispered close to Molly’s ear, “go with Cat and Isabel to Cat’s cottage in the woods. James and Thomas will find you there and get you back to Hollings with Nathaniel.”
“God bless you,” Molly said, sniffing, and ran from the room to pack for herself.
Kirstin leaned into the room. “We need to go below.” She tapped her foot on the floor. Evelyn moved to Scarlet’s propped window, but all she could see was the meadow where the Beltane celebration had taken place. The window was too far up to hear anything but the growing thunder. She inhaled the rain-scented air. It would be a wet ride north.
“I need my cloak from my bedchamber,” Evelyn said to Kirstin, who stood just out in the hall. The woman watched the stairs like she thought someone might run up any moment.
“I will get it,” Kirstin said.
“My room is on this floor, second from the end,” she said, and Kirstin ran off.
Scarlet leaned out through the doorway, peering left and right along the corridor before stepping back in and securing the door. “What the hell is going on?” she asked, obviously without any expectation of an answer. “Grey has the letter. Why would he ask for you to bring it?”
Evelyn shook her head and took up the long, twisted hairpin. The steel piece caught hold of the brushed strands as she first jabbed upward and then turned it to twist it back down through her thick hair. “There was only one letter, and I gave it to him to do with as he saw fit.”
“Then Kirstin’s message didn’t come from Grey,” Scarlet said, tapping her lip. She began to pace. “And Nathaniel was with us.” She looked at Evelyn. “Philip?”
“Cross could have told Philip’s man that the letter was missing,” Evelyn said, once again looking out of the window at the darkening sky. “Philip could be the Surgeon of London.”
Scarlet’s mouth opened, her brow raised. “Boring Philip? I’ve never seen him bring up anything close to a revolutionary idea, unless it involved wigs and the use of plumes. The most conviction I’ve seen in the man has occurred in the last twenty-four hours.”
“We’ve seen him interact only with Father,” Evelyn said. “Not many would bring up something with which Father disagreed. Although Father wanted parliament reinstated, he never mentioned removing Charles from the throne.”
Scarlet smiled at Evelyn. “You are the only person I heard bring up disagreeable things to Benjamin Worthington.”
Evelyn huffed through her nose. “And I barely survived it.”
Knock. Knock. Knock. “Evelyn,” Kirstin called through the door. “I have your cloak. We need to go. Grey is waiting for ye.”
“What do we do?” Scarlet whispered.
Evelyn walked up to the locked door. “Kirstin, who really sent you to get me? I know it wasn’t Grey.”
Silence.
“I’m not coming out until you tell me,” Evelyn said.
Evelyn heard Kirstin say something softly outside the door. The words sounded Gaelic and were whispered like a prayer. “Evelyn,” she said a bit louder. “They have him. If ye don’t come down, they will shoot him.”
Evelyn threw the wooden bar up, dropping it to clatter on the floor. She stared at Kirstin, the woman’s hair poking out from her braid, her cheeks flushed. “Who will shoot him?”
“The English.”
“Good Lord, woman,” Scarlet said, striding up beside Evelyn. “There are English all over the damn castle. Which English?”
She hesitated slightly. “Captain Cross.”
Evelyn felt Scarlet squeeze her hand as if she were in a nightmare, her heart galloping and her body growing numb. “And Cross thinks Evelyn has his letter?” Scarlet asked.
Kirstin nodded. “He says he will leave us all alone if the letter is retrieved,” she said, a high pitch making her voice sound as if she were pleading.
“I don’t have the letter,” Evelyn said, her lips parted to suck in more air as the room seemed to close in on her. “Grey does. I don’t know what he’s done with it.” Grey. No.
Kirstin’s face fell, her jaw going slack. “Just come. Do something, or they’ll kill him and burn Finlarig to the ground, and possibly Killin.”
Cross would burn everything in hopes the letter would turn to ash before it could be sent to King Charles. She shook her head, her mind breaking free of the shock to churn. She had no sound strategy, but she couldn’t just hide away when Grey and the villagers were in danger. Evelyn stepped out into the corridor, Scarlet following.
“Not your sister,” Kirstin said, shaking her head at Evelyn. “She could get hurt.”
Scarlet frowned, her lips pulling back. “And you could get hurt by trying to stop me.”
Evelyn grabbed her wrist. “Nathaniel must be out there. If something happens, I need to know that you are safe. You could help both of us if Cross orders his men to arrest us. Only you know the whole of it.”
“Damn,” Scarlet said, pinching her lips tight. “I don’t like this.” She exhaled in a rush and finally nodded.
“Go with Molly,” Evelyn said. “The two of you can hide and sneak away if something goes wrong. James will come for you, or Kerrick will help you.”
Evelyn gave her a quick hug and hurried with Kirstin to the curving stairwell, descending to the empty great hall. “They are out in the bailey,” Kirstin said. “Grey wants ye to get in the carriage that’s waiting. To take ye to safety.”
“What? No. I need to—”
“Hurry,” Kirstin said, tugging Evelyn’s arm. “Ye will ride away, and Cross will follow ye for the letter. Grey can get away from them.” The woman was amazingly strong, and everything was rushed. They stepped out onto the front steps of Finlarig. As Kirstin had said, the Worthington coach waited with the door open.
Evelyn’s heart became a boulder as she saw Grey standing near the wall, three armed Englishmen aiming their muskets at him while Captain Cross spoke to Nathaniel. She recognized the horrible soldier, Burdock. He wore a satisfied grin as he said something to Grey. Grey did nothing but stand tall, legs braced. But it was an unfair contest. He had only his sword and muscle when three of Cross’s soldiers, and the men who had come with Philip, held muskets ready.
“This is my castle, and I have asked you to vacate the premises, Captain Cross. And take your men with you, or I will make sure you are relieved of your duty.” Nathaniel’s threat came out loud and powerful, his words reaching her ears over the growing wind. A loud whinny came from the stables where Grey’s horse was housed. The sound of hooves hitting wood caused several of the guards to glance that way.
“This man is charged as a Covenanter, like his father. He must come with me to be questioned,” Cross replied.
“Get in the carriage,” Kirstin said, her fingernails digging into Evelyn’s forearm.
With a twist and jerk, Evelyn freed herself and ran toward Grey. “No, Grey Campbell is a teacher at the Highland Roses School. He is not going anywhere.” She threw her back against Grey’s chest, shielding him.
“Evelyn,” Grey said, trying to push her behind him. “Go back.”
Captain Cross tipped his head to the side, studying Evelyn with a condescending grin. “Ah, Lady Evelyn, so glad you could join us. It seems there is a private post missing, and your teacher’s life hangs on its location. Perhaps you could shed some light on its whereabouts?”
Grey would sacrifice his life to keep Killin safe, and he was convinced that ousting Cross was the way to do so. Evelyn knew he would never give Cross the letter. She also knew that she couldn’t stand to watch Grey die. Evelyn stepped out beside him. “He doesn’t have the letter, Captain Cross. I do.”
“Evie,” Nathaniel said.
She held up a hand. “If you let Grey Campbell go and leave the village in peace, I will make certain the letter is returned to you.” Could the scoundrel tell that her suggestion was hollow? She made sure to keep her gaze strong, unwavering. It had worked with her father. Benjamin Worthington didn’t retaliate over a stern stare, just her rousing words.
Cross’s eyes narrowed. “Then perhaps we should take you in for interfering in governmental policy where a woman has no business.”
Evelyn stood taller despite knowing that she was now the target. She didn’t look at Grey. He was likely furious at her for taking risks. “Kindly produce the written law that shows this to be a crime.”
The fox-like man’s grin faded. “Certainly. I have it in my office. You will come back with us.”
“She will not,” Nathaniel commanded.
“Nay,” Grey said at the same time, causing the armed men to lift their weapons.
The wind blew Evelyn’s curls across her eyes. It whistled like a mournful shriek about the stone walls surrounding them.
Behind her, gravel crunched. “Goodness. What goes on here?” Philip strode up alongside Evelyn. “Surely there is no need to train a musket on a lady.” His words came out with a snapping cadence, clipped like the heels of his decorative shoes on the floors of Whitehall Palace. “Captain Cross, stand down.”
Cross signaled to his men, and their muskets lowered. “The woman possesses a private letter of mine.”
Philip flapped his hand, its motion mimicking the bending of his plume in the wind. “If she does, it belongs to me, as I am nearly her husband.”
“Lord Philip,” Evelyn started, but the fop held up his hand. Apparently, he didn’t know her at all if he thought a raised hand would stop her tongue. “I am not marrying you. I believe I made that clear yesterday.” How could they be discussing marriage in the middle of this battle of wills and muskets?
The edge of Philip’s brown teeth showed between his lips. He smiled. “Let us away from all of this danger, Lady Evelyn. We can discuss whatever letter this scoundrel seems to think you possess.” He opened his arm wide to indicate the carriage behind them.
Evelyn opened her mouth to refuse, but Grey reached out to catch her arm, pulling her closer, and she let him. The world around her seemed to pause, as she felt his reserved strength, the passion and heat in his grasp on her. Wind whipped her skirts about her legs as she looked up into his gaze.
“Evelyn,” he said, his voice hushed. “Go. I cannot think with muskets trained on ye.”
“But Grey—”
“Ye were right. The accusation yesterday in my chamber,” he said, and the look in his eyes held her tongue. Love. “Ye were right, lass.” He didn’t need to say it there where they could be heard. It filled his gaze.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered. “The fire—”
“Wasn’t your fault,” he said.
She felt tears press against the back of her eyes, and she blinked. “I love you, too,” she whispered so softly she could barely hear it, but Grey could read the movement of her lips.
“Go,” he said. “Be safe.”
“No rushing in with sword drawn,” she said, reminding him.
The side of his mouth tipped upward in a half grin. “With ye safely in that carriage…” He nodded.
Philip cleared his throat and took Evelyn’s arm. Something in Philip’s expression caused chill bumps to prickle along her back. She looked over her shoulder. Cross watched her, and Nathaniel stood with his musket in one hand. Only Grey was without a firearm, his long sword sheathed at his side.
“Come along,” Philip said, the words coming through his teeth. His hand clamped down on Evelyn’s arm, pinching it.
“You are hurting me,” she said.
Philip increased his gait, pulling her along. “Keep walking, Evelyn.”
A few heavy drops of rain spattered the dry ground, and the trees danced around the outside of Finlarig’s walls. Kirstin waited by the steps to the castle, her eyes wide. As they came to the open carriage door, Kirstin stepped up.
“Lord Philip,” she said. “Ye promised.” She glanced toward Grey.
“You’ve done a service today,” Philip said with an annoyed gesture. “You have saved your town.”
What were they talking about? Evelyn’s gaze snapped between them, her stomach clenching, making a wave of nausea rise.
“But Grey?” Kirstin asked.
“That is up to Captain Cross, my dear,” Philip said. “But Killin will be left untouched as long as I own Finlarig.”
“What?” Evelyn asked, the word flying from her lips as she turned back to look at Nathaniel and Grey.
Captain Cross nodded at Lieutenant Burdock, who raised his musket straight at Nathaniel.
“No!” Evelyn screamed as the matchlock musket discharged, and Nathaniel flew backward into the dirt.