Page 22 of Keeping Kate
One of the guards rose and came toward him. “Pardon, Captain, but Colonel Grant gave us orders concerning the wench. We were to put her in irons and wait for an escort to take her out of here.”
“Where am I to be taken?” the girl asked quickly. Neither man looked at her.
Alec nodded to the guard. “I am aware. I spoke with the Colonel. He asked me to supervise the transfer.”
“Aye, then. You will take her now? We were told to expect it later.”
“It is all arranged. As it happens, the vehicle is ready now. I will see to her transfer—discreetly, just as Colonel Grant wanted. General Wade is in agreement.” Alec removed his own orders from Wade and held the page out, the General’s signature clear. He folded the page before the sergeant had time to look more closely. “Sir, as you know, this is a delicate matter and we are pressed for time. Unlock the cell now, if you please. And I will require the key to her fetters as well. I will take charge of it.”
From another pocket, Alec produced a shiny guinea, which the soldier snatched before relinquishing a small iron key. Then the man produced a large iron key, which he used to open the heavy lock and latch of the cell door. He pushed it partly open, nearly knocking aside the girl, who stood close to the opening. Alec moved into the gap quickly, reaching out to take her arm as she gaped up at him.
“Thank you, sir. I will see to this now.” Alec had a firm grip on the girl, but dared not look at her, though he knew she was staring up at him, and he felt her arm stiffen.
“Do not protest,” he muttered under his breath as the soldier stepped away.
“Where are you taking me?” She yanked at his confining grip. “I do not want to go to Edinburgh with you or anyone.”
He leaned down. “You could stay here and wait for Colonel Grant to remove you.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Either way, I would be imprisoned. I will go with neither,” she snapped.
“Very well. Stay here and luck be with you, then,” he said—but said it in Gaelic, stilted but complete.
“Fine. I will go with you,” she returned in Gaelic, rapid and annoyed.
Alec nodded—his scant Gaelic would not have stood up to a longer exchange—and kept his hand tight around her slim arm as he led her through the door. The iron chains and cuffs on her ankles knocked, clanked. But he had to hurry her along. With a brief wave to the guards, he all but pushed her ahead of him.
As they moved into the shadowed chill of the corridor, the other prisoner jumped up from his corner. “Hey! Ye took Highland Donald, now the wench. Take me too!”
“You do not want to go where she is going,” the sergeant growled.
“To her death, is it? So ye will burn her as a witch?”
“That’s up to them as sits on the city court,” the sergeant replied.
Kate gasped as Alec pulled her along. “Will they try me for witchcraft?“
“Have you turned anyone into a pig lately?” Alec asked.
“I am thinking about it,” she snapped. “Do not pull so hard. I am not a sack of wool to be dragged about!”
“Fortunately for you,” he said, not slowing his pace, “they no longer burn witches in Scotland. Hurry,” he urged, drawing her toward the outer doors. He did not want to give the guards too much time to think of questions.
“I could hurry if these chains were off and if I had my shoes.”
Alec stopped for a moment, looking down at her stockinged feet and the heavy chains around her ankles. He sighed. “Be damned. No shoes?”
“They took them. And my good buckles, too, along with my plaid shawl and my silver necklace—which you have stolen from me.”
Frowning, Alec sighed and turned, hand firmly on her elbow now as he led her back to the guard. His heart was pounding. They could not afford to lose so much time, but this could not be helped. “Sergeant—fetch the girl’s things, please. Quickly.” He tossed a good gold coin to him, and one to his comrade for good measure.
One of the guards hurried down a stem corridor. Waiting, impatient, Alec crouched. “Excuse me, Miss,” he said, and lifted the hem of her dress.
She held the skirt up. “See. No shoes.”
He saw more than that. The manacles around her slim ankles had bruised her skin and left crusted blood. He swore under his breath, took the small key the guard had given him, and unlocked the heavy cuffs. He skittered them and the chain over the stone floor and glanced up.
“I am sorry,” he said. “I did not realize.”
