Page 7 of Pretty in Plaid
As it was, the lass was smart, standing outside the chamber and well away from Boyd, who was destroying her property. Footsteps sounded below, boot heels clicking on wood, and then the stairs. The commotion in her chamber had to be drawing attention from those below. The question remained whether it was the dragoons hurrying to the chaos or Duncan Forbes’s footmen.
Sorley muttered an expletive under his breath. She would have to leave without a few of her precious belongings. Perhaps her cousin would be kind enough to gather them up for safekeeping and send them to her at a later date.
He came out of the shadows, surprising her. She turned toward him, eyes wide, mouth parted.
From inside her chamber, Boyd let out a wicked laugh. “You see? My men are coming to search the rest of the rooms because we know you harbor the enemy. Punishable by death, should we find him.” The imbecile thought her reaction to Sorley appearing was about the men below. Good.
“I maintain my innocence, sir,” she said, even as her eyes scanned Sorley.
Brave lass, she was. There was a little lurch in his chest at her words, her outright defiance.
Sorley came to the side of the door, out of Boyd’s view, and held out his hand to her. “We need to leave,” he mouthed silently.
She nodded, giving one last glance toward Boyd. Her only options were to trust in him to take her away from this nightmare or fall into Boyd’s trap. The latter of which would be incredibly unpleasant. Sorley beckoned her, promising with his eyes that he’d keep her safe—not that she needed a savior with the way she’d wielded her hairpin, but with a horde of dragoons climbing the stairs, she could use a partner.
Then she too stepped away from the door, her hand in his as she tugged him past her room and away from the stairs.
It was a risky move with Boyd right there, but the man had his back to the door as they passed, riffling through a trunk large enough to hold a man. At this point, Boyd was likely looking for valuables he could steal.
At the end of the hall, Kenna pressed a wooden panel, revealing a secret door, which she opened and then yanked him inside. The portal closed with a quiet snick as the dragoons' boot heels hit the upper-level floor.
3
Encased in darkness, the sounds of the men outside the secret door dulled. Kenna’s breath was labored. At any moment, she was going to break out into a fit of trembling. Already, her heart pounded so hard she was certain it would direct the dragoons straight to their hiding spot.
“These stairs lead to the vault,” Kenna whispered. “While there, we can both change into plain clothes. I’ve seen stacks of garments on the shelves.”
“The vault?”
“Aye.” Her teeth started to chatter with nerves, and she wished now that she’d gone away with him the moment that he had first suggested it and not argued so much. This was one of her faults, she supposed. Being stubborn.
And now it might lead to her arrest, and possibly her death, for having escaped with Sorley now, there was no turning back. And she supposed now was as good a time as any to make up for her lack in judgement.
“Lead the way, lass.”
His voice was tight, and she could tell he too was feeling less confident than he had been upon first finding her on the main stairs of the grand house.
Kenna had not been in this hidden corridor in years, not since she was a child playing seek and find with Elizabeth. When her uncle had caught them, he’d tried to banish them from ever using the hidden passageways again since they were supposed to be a secret. Children were often hard to coerce into secrecy, and to keep them quiet, he’d entrusted both of them with the care and keeping of the passageways and vault below.
She prayed that both of her relations would keep quiet about the vault now. Though Uncle Duncan was a loyalist, he would not want to give up to anyone the treasures he held so dear.
With her hand against the wall, Kenna felt her way along the stairs. Pieces of mortar crumbled against her palm. She pretended not to notice the brush of cobwebs or the scurrying of spiders over her fingertips. Every so often, Sorley’s fingers brushed against hers, and a tingle raced over her arm to her chest and down the other side. Nerves, she deemed the frissons to be, for she refused to think they might be anything else.
At last, they came to the bottom of the narrow stairs, and she stopped, the heat of his large body inches from her back. Left was the way out, and right was the way to the vault. Every instinct in her body told her to run to the left, to get the hell away from here as fast as they could. But they’d both be caught and shot to death if seen in the plaid clothes they had on, and so on weak legs, she turned right, feeling her way along until she reached the next secret door and fumbled for the opening.
Inside was equally dark, which normally did not scare her, but the very idea that she’d walk into a solid wall of dragoons hiding here in the pitch black until she entered made her heart skitter. “Shall I light a candle?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“Can ye find the things we need without it?” There was strength in Sorley’s voice that bolstered her somehow.
“I think so.” She thought back to the last time she’d been in the vault and where she’d seen the extra garments stacked.
“Best no’ risk it, then, lass. We’re quite alone right now, but there’s no telling what a line of light beneath a door might bring.”
He was absolutely right, and she was glad to have asked, for he also soothed her nerves by assuring her there was no one lurking in the obscure chamber.
Kenna nodded into the dark and felt along the shelves, familiarizing herself with the layout to better picture the space. Though they’d entered through the secret passage, the main door to the vault was on the other side of the small chamber, and she’d been here not too long ago, fetching a few items her uncle requested. This was their safe stock hold of things—coin, weapons, valuables, extra clothing that was also a commodity.
The rest of the staff knew only about the cellar, which was in another location on the opposite side of the house and held everyday items, plus a few wares. But the vault had an entry door that was well-hidden within a bookcase, and not known to just anyone in the house. A well-kept secret. A secret that would protect them now, she hoped. Unless Uncle Duncan turned on her and led the dragoons here, but she doubted he would do so, for while he aligned himself with the wrong side, he wasn’t going to give up his riches. And the moment he showed the dragoons into this space, he would have to part with his belongings.
