“Two hours and we meet at the stables. If you are there, you can come. If not, we leave without you.”
He stepped around her quickly, disappearing out past the evergreen hedges that lined the entrance to the alcove.
She heard the scrape of the dirk across the gravel as he picked it up.
His footsteps retreated and a low, murmured acknowledgement floated over the tall hedge to her as he passed the people that had been walking on the pathway.
Her hand clasping the front flaps of her ripped dress to cover her breasts, she exhaled, sinking down onto the wrought iron bench nestled along the wall of evergreens beside her. Deep in the shadows she waited for the people passing to vacate the area. Her eyes lifted and trained on the stars above her. They twinkled especially bright tonight, the full moon lending shards of hazy light to make them bigger than usual.
Stars she had stared at her whole life, wishing upon.
Stars that had finally delivered.
A way out.
Finally, a way out.
{ Chapter 2 }
“I thought we’d be traveling by coach.” Trying not to choke on the dust kicked up from the horses and wagon in front of her, Evalyn looked to the mostly toothless elderly man next to her.
Rupe had hopped off the back of the wagon to walk as they ascended the last hill and had introduced himself. More curious than kind, she was nonetheless relieved that someone had finally uttered a word to her.
“Coach?” He chuckled, his lips drawing up along his gums. “Nae, lass. The journey down to these forsaken lands was riddled with stringy and rotten meat at the coachin’ inns, and the earl’s not looking to be repeatin’ that. We have wares to pick up along the way, so we be travelin’ like the almighty intended us to. On our feet and far from the inns this time.”
Evalyn gasped and dust flew into her throat, gagging her until she coughed it clear. Her hand to her mouth, she stared at Rupe. “Our feet? But that will take…” Her voice trailed, her look swinging to the rear wheels of the wagon in front of her, already piled high with supplies. She had no idea how long it would take to walk to Lachlan’s lands.
“Two weeks if the luck be on our side.” Rupe jabbed the long walking stick he held into the dirt of the road. “Lach’s got plenty o’ peers with land along the way and business with them all. Though the master likes to sleep outside like the rest of us.”
Evalyn had to swallow back the dry dust in her throat. “We…we sleep outside?”
“Course, lass.”
She nodded, trying to keep her chin up when the whole of her felt like sinking down along the side of the rutted road. She’d been awake since yesterday morning and the brisk pace they were traveling at didn’t look to slow anytime soon. Of course, aside from Rupe and the man leading the reins of the draft horse pulling the wagon, Lachlan and his men were all on horses—fine, healthy, well-bred horses that had energy to spare. She would have no hope for sleep for hours.
It had seemed like such a good plan last night. The perfect plan. A plan that would permanently get her away from the terror of her life.
A plan with a thousand gaping holes in it, now that she looked at it under the grey light of the day.
She’d thought there would be other women in the party moving north. Someone, at the very least, to connect with. She hadn’t imagined she’d be in the back of a pack of men, on foot, eating dust for hours on end.
But at least she was walking away. Every step was another step further from her stepfather and Mr. Molson.
She lifted her chin a notch higher, searching the wide, swaying backs of the eight Scotsmen in front of the wagon.
Heaven help her, all of them were huge, the breadth of their shoulders two-wide filling the roadway. She had noted the wide shoulders of Lachlan when he’d first been announced in the great hall at Wolfbridge castle two days past. But she hadn’t expected all of the men around him to contain his same sense of presence. It was hard to ignore any of them, to pretend they weren’t in her space as she was accustomed to doing with all men she encountered.
The only one that even came near to her stature was Rupe, and he was still a half head taller than her, though he had a wiry frame.
Lachlan had said he traveled with eight healthy, virile men, and he hadn’t been deluding her.
A shot of fear skittered down her spine.
She shook her head. Lachlan had promised her safe passage away from Lincolnshire.
Safe. She was safe.
She searched her mind, racing to remember his exact words on the matter of her safety.