Page 21 of Keeping Kate
Chapter 7
Shaking raindrops from his tricorne hat, Alec replaced it on his head as he walked toward the dungeon cell, nodding to the guards, who stood and saluted in turn. He stopped at the iron-barred door and peered inside.
The girl sat against the wall, knees propped up, head tucked on her arms, looking forlorn. The fellow in the cell with her slept, snoring in a corner, though Alec considered him too damn close to her. Well, not much longer for that.
Not long ago, Alec had assisted the dragoons in settling Ian Cameron into a shabby old coach with two guards. He was glad of that, for it was a long way to Edinburgh, and a raw autumn storm had burst loose while they were waiting. Grant had come outside briefly to order the dragoons to travel fast with only the most necessary stops. Alec had stood by in silence while Grant then told one of the dragoons to make additional arrangements to move the female prisoner later that night, making sure to transfer her before dawn the next day.
Hearing that, Alec decided he had best make his own arrangements even more quickly. He had slipped away to pack his bag and find Jack MacDonald, knowing his cousin would help him get Kate away from here, and away from Grant, without waiting for instructions from General Wade.
Now he stood by the cell door, aware of the urgency, yet the girl did not look up. Outside, sheets of rain pounded against the stone walls of the jail, and damp, chilly air blew through the dankness inside. The girl shivered, curled into herself.
“Kate,” Alec said, reaching into his pocket.
She lifted her head. Disheveled and weary, she looked defiant if exhausted. And her remarkable silvery eyes snapped with anger at him.
He dangled her little silver necklace from his fingers, letting it catch the lantern light. Earlier, he had claimed it from the sergeant for a bribe of a few shillings. As it swung in his hand, he saw the girl’s eyes spark with interest—and relief, he thought.
Oh aye, he thought, she was surely the young woman he had seen in London. He remembered seeing just such a crystal bauble around her throat beneath strands of pearls. The simple sparkling necklace had suited her fairylike appearance. And he knew that pretty crystals like this—so common in the Highland hills that they could be found and plucked along many slopes—were often called fairy crystals by locals.
“Kate,” he said. “I came to see how you are faring.”
“You have seen. Now go away,” she said hoarsely.
“Come here.” He let the silver necklace swing. “Do you want this?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Leave it there and go away.”
“I must speak with you.”
“We have nothing to say. You had me arrested, or did you forget?”
“I had no choice,” he murmured.
“You may wear a Highland tartan with that coat, but you are a red soldier all the same. A true Highland man would not take away one of his own.”
“Do you speak of Ian Cameron? What is your interest in him?”
“Go away, unless you intend to open that door.” She glanced uneasily at the man who slept a few feet away from her. “Or take him out and leave me alone.”
“Come here,” he said. He glanced over his shoulder. The guards, seated at the other end of a wide, vaulted stone foyer, were engaged in a game of dice and seemed to be paying little attention to an officer interviewing a prisoner.
By nature and habit, Alec was cautious rather than reckless. Yet tonight, he had to call up a little madness, a little of the impulse and wildness he had smothered for most of his life in order to learn discipline, rules, the ability to adhere to expectations. He had all but let his earlier tendencies go, finding little reason to disturb their slumber. But here, now, he needed that part of his character.
If this girl was indeed the beauty he had seen in London, and indeed Katie Hell as he suspected, she was far more valuable a prisoner than Grant or Wade even suspected. In London, and in Wade’s camp, she had some sort of intrigue in mind, he had no doubt. And that likely meant Jacobite scheming.
“So you will not speak to me? Very well.” Dangling the glittering necklace, he caught it in his fingers, tucked it away into a pocket, and turned with a shrug.
“Wait.” She stood and came toward the cell door. The chains were back on her wrists, the chains he had ordered removed. Alec scowled at that, waiting by the door as she approached. “What do you want?” she asked.
“I want you to come with me,” he said.
She frowned. “I will not share favors. Not even for that—crystal.” Her eyes were on his pocket, his fingers tucked there.
“I do not ask for that.” He pulled out the chain.
“If you want to interrogate me—“
“Aye, but not here,” he said, and glanced over his shoulder. “Sergeant! Bring the key, please.”
