Chapter 7

Jeb rose early the next day and went down to breakfast. MacFarlane was sitting at the head of the table and Mariah to his right. Jeb filled a plate, then sat to MacFarlane’s left.

“Tavish tells me you’re ready to leave.”

“Yes.” Jeb swallowed a bite of braised ham. “I need to get an early start if I want to take another look at MacKinnon’s mare.” Jeb took a drink of his coffee. “Although your daughter could save me a great deal of time if she’d just agree to sell me her Milly.”

MacFarlane laughed. “Since that won’t happen, I’d advise you to settle for second best. Although you know you’re welcome to stay another day and try to convince her to give up her mare.”

“I thank you for your hospitality, but I think my efforts would be wasted.”

“I’m afraid you’re right,” Mariah grinned.

Her smile came easily now, something that had changed since the day before. Jeb quite liked that and found himself eager to find ways to trigger it.

He finished his breakfast, then took the food MacFarlane had thoughtfully ordered prepared in a bundle for him and made his way to the stable.

He dallied in the yard adjusting Goliath’s saddle and making small talk, regretting the distance he was about to put between Mariah and himself. But the moment came when he had to accept that there would be no private moment, no stolen kiss. He took his cue from Mariah, who had the bravest expression fixed upon her sweet features, and mounted his horse.

MacFarlane and Mariah watched as he rode a few paces away, then wheeled Goliath about to tip his hat. She bade him goodbye with a look that said she would be at the Keg and Copper by noon tomorrow. All he dared leave her with was a wink.

He set a good pace, ready to carry out Mariah’s plan, and forced himself to rally his thoughts. He was beginning to feel the familiar buzz, the exhilaration at the idea of pulling this off. He’d felt the same rush during the war. The same elation, when a mission was going as planned—the elation he felt knowing he was going to be successful.

And beneath it, around it, infused within it, was a growing excitement at the thought of spending days ahead with Mariah MacFarlane.

 

Jeb followed Mariah’s directions. He rode southwest toward the MacKinnon stables. When he reached the fork in the road, he turned south instead of continuing to the stud farm. He could see for miles and never caught a glimpse of any of MacFarlane’s men.

He hadn’t raised their suspicions.

A couple of hours later he crossed the border that separated Scotland from England. He rode a bit further and saw the Keg and Copper Inn. The sight of its welcoming dooryard prompted a sigh of relief. He’d accomplished the first step of the plan. Now, all he had to do was wait for Mariah to meet him tomorrow by noon.

Except waiting had never been his strong suit. He was a man of action. He saw a problem and faced it head on. But here he felt a helplessness that was quite foreign to him. He felt as if Mariah were taking all the risk, and if they were successful in reaching London with the jewels, he would reap all the reward.

He entered the Keg and Copper, secured a room, and settled in for a very long night.

. . .

At last the sun crept over his windowsill and illuminated the tousled bedding, evidence of his restless night. He’d dressed in the dark, too eager to meet the day to stay abed.

He went below and ate a hearty breakfast even though he wasn’t hungry. It was a hard-won habit any time he wasn’t sure when he’d be able to eat again. When he finished, he asked the innkeeper to pack a meal for the road. Not for himself, but for Mariah . . . if she’d escaped without being seen.

Jeb’s stomach roiled for a moment. Had they seen her? Was she at this moment confined to the castle, her betrayal discovered when her father found she had the jewels?

He gathered his belongings and the bundle of food the innkeeper gave him and went to the stable. Goliath whickered through the leisurely rubdown he’d earned, and Jeb enjoyed the sun on his back and loyal horseflesh beneath his hands. He checked the hooves for stones and rubbed liniment into all four legs to ward off any stiffness from the previous day’s ride.

By his guess, he had another hour or two before noon, but he wanted to be ready when . . . if . . . Mariah came. He checked the bags fastened behind his saddle, then froze when a voice whispered from behind him.

“Are you finally ready?”

The relief Jeb felt was indescribable. His breath caught, and he released it in a rush. He flung himself into his saddle and rode away from the Keg and Copper.

He didn’t look around to find her. He knew she would be close by. When he traveled enough distance that no one from the Keg and Copper could see them, he stopped.

She came out of the brush at the side of the road like a vision emerging from heavy London fog. He’d never seen anything so stunning in his life. Never seen anyone so beautiful.

He wanted to put his hands around her tiny waist and lift her from Milly’s back. He wanted to rub her road-weary shoulders and pluck the leaves from her hair. He wanted to kiss her.

He handed her the bundle of food.

“I brought you something to eat.”

She took it and smiled. “Thank you.”

“Do you need to rest?”

“We need to keep moving. I don’t think anyone saw me escape, but I can’t guarantee how long it will be before my maid discovers I’m gone and tells my father.”

“Then let’s go,” Jeb said. “We’ll stay on the road, but you’ll need to hide off the road if we meet anyone.”

She nodded, and they returned to the road.

Jeb knew she must be tired. She’d traveled all night. But they couldn’t risk stopping yet. Once MacFarlane realized she was gone, he’d send every available man after her. They’d have to make as much progress as they could in order to reach London before MacFarlane or his men caught up with them.

They rode until dusk, and when it became too dark to travel safely, Jeb led them to a secluded spot just beyond the edge of the road. He heard the rush of water and knew they must be near a stream. “I’ll lead the horses to the water, then return, and you can take a moment to be by yourself.”

“Thank you.”

She left for the stream when he returned, and when she came back, he handed her part of the loaf of bread the innkeeper sent along and some meat and cheese. When she finished eating, she rose and walked to Milly who was quite content grazing alongside Goliath. She reached into a valise that hung from her saddle and pulled out a pouch.

“This is what you came for,” she said, handing him the pouch. “It will be safer with you than with me.”

Jeb opened the pouch and tipped the jewels out onto a cloth. His breath caught when he saw the magnificent gems in his lap. “Does your father know you found them?”

“He will when he realizes I’m gone. The first thing he’ll do is check the place where the jewels were hidden to make sure they’re still there.”

Jeb placed the jewels back in the pouch, then tucked them into his jacket. “Why is it so important for you to give the jewels back to England?”

Her gaze lifted to his, and a smile danced at the corners of her mouth. “I thought perhaps you’d realized what Father’s intent was from the questions he asked.”

“No, other than that he has an insatiable curiosity about Her Majesty’s army and how completely England has recovered from the Crimean War.”

“What if I told you it was more than idle curiosity? What if I told you that he was assessing England’s readiness to repel an invader? And his purpose for the jewels was not to enrich his own coffers but to fund an army?”

“An army for what?” Jeb asked, although he thought he already knew the answer.

“An army to rebel against the English.”

“Surely your father doesn’t think it’s possible to defeat England’s army.”

“But he does. And he’s not alone in this belief. There are several clans who’ve been pressing him to join them. The consensus is that there’s not a better time to strike. England’s munitions are no doubt depleted. The will of the English people to step into another war is at its lowest. And after such horrific human losses, England’s ability to man a sizable army is negligible.”

Jeb was at a loss to describe the emotions he was feeling. He’d seen so much death and human carnage that he wasn’t sure he could survive watching more men die at the hands of an enemy. Particularly not on English soil.

“What does your father hope to gain by going to war with England?”

“Land. The clans that will join Father are the clans in the south of Scotland. They cannot grow because of their location. They’re hampered by England’s border on the one hand and their Scottish cousins on the other.”

Jeb thought of the jewels in his pocket. He couldn’t allow them to fall back into MacFarlane’s hands. He couldn’t allow MacFarlane to use them to buy ammunition to fight England.

And he wouldn’t allow the man to take revenge on his daughter.

Jeb looked at Mariah. Dark circles rimmed her eyes. Her lack of sleep was evident. He’d intended to let her rest for at least an hour, perhaps two, until the moon was higher in the sky. But after what she’d just told him, he couldn’t waste any time. They had to keep moving.

“I’d like to give you time to rest, but you’ve made me see that we have to get to London as quickly as possible. We have another three or four days’ travel ahead of us.”

She rose to her feet and brushed the dried leaves from her skirt, which was less of a skirt and more like wide, floppy trousers that allowed her to ride astride. “I know, and we can’t let Father catch up with us.”

“I’m sorry,” Jeb said as he led the way to the horses.

“It’s not your fault, Lieutenant Danvers.”

“Ah, such formality, Lady Mariah,” Jeb said, clasping his hands around her waist and lifting her up.

“It’s not your fault . . . Jeb,” she said.

He swatted Milly on the rump and mounted Goliath. The way his name tumbled from her lips invoked seriously improper thoughts, and Jeb hoped it was dark enough to hide his smile.

It wasn’t long before he sensed they’d passed the midnight hour and darkness deepened. Still, they dared not let that stop them from continuing south. They had to reach London . . . and tell the Queen what MacFarlane conspired to do.