Page 91 of Keeping Kate
She had not heard the full plan—they did not want her to know too much. She was not even certain Alec knew. The Highlanders had wanted to take this on themselves and would have preferred that Kate and Alec stay out of it. “If you went, you might be recognized as an officer,” she said. “And my kinsmen look too conspicuous to enter without questioning.”
He took her hand. “Are you nervous?”
“I am more anxious about meeting your family than the rest of it. We can think ahead if danger might await us. But your family’s reception may be too unpredictable.”
“Nothing to fear. Just be careful of chocolate samples that Uncle Walter offers.”
Laughing softly, she watched through the window as the post-chaise followed along the Canongate and past Holyrood Palace. She craned her neck to look up at the ornate towers, and beyond it, the hulk of Arthur’s Seat, the massive volcanic hill at the foot of the city spread.
Soon Rob and Connor rode past the chaise, resplendent in plaids, leather waistcoats, snowy linen shirts, dark coats. Waving briefly, they headed straight along the Canongate.
“They will go to Jenny Ha’s Change-house,” Alec said. “It’s a busy nest of Jacobite activity and they will not be questioned closely by the City Guards, who tend to avoid confrontation there.”
She nodded, hoping all would go well. Part of her did not want to know the whole of it, but she felt the worry growing within.
Jack guided the horses leftward as they climbed the long steady slope of The High Street that ran between Holyrood and Edinburgh Castle at its peak. The street was busy with tradesmen, caddies, sedan-chair carriers. They moved about in the shadow of stately homes, handsome civic buildings, and brightly painted shops and taverns. The façades glowed in the early sunlight, crammed alongside old, gloomy tenement buildings that rose high enough to tilt and block the sun in places. Even the exclusive areas of Edinburgh displayed a casual equality—in buildings, businesses, and especially in its people—that was so common to Scotland and the Scottish character.
For a moment, Kate felt strong pride in Scotland and its people, Highland and Lowland both. She felt, too, a renewed sense of purpose and dedication. The Jacobite cause had to prevail for the overall good of the Scots, she thought. The mission that she shared with Alec and the others, just a small piece of a grander puzzle, must prevail also.
Hearing bells chiming out, she startled. “Oh! I am a bit jittery, I think. Are those the bells of the Canongate Kirk?”
“Aye, just over there. They ring throughout the day. You will get used to them.”
“And that is the Tolbooth,” she murmured, as they passed a blocky dark façade that leaned into the cobbled street. “The city jail.” She shivered.
“The Lord Advocate’s house is just across from it. Hopefield House is a little further up the Royal Mile, just at Castlehill. Look for the Chocolate House. Behind it you will see Hopefield House.”
Kate drew a shaky breath upon first glance ofa fieldstone building with a neatly painted sign in gold lettering on black: Fraser’s Fancies Chocolate House. A woman stood outside, sweeping the steps. As the coach began to turn, she waved.
Alec lifted a hand, and she dropped her broom and ran inside.
“Marianne, one of the shop girls. She will run down to the house with the news.”
Kate nodded, feeling anxious as Jack guided the horses into the close, one of the short alleyways, often sloped and private, so common in Edinburgh. Entering the shadowy chasm between two tall buildings, the vehicle rolled down over cobblestones to a small courtyard tucked below the level of Castlehill. Her heart pounded.
On the cobbled court behind a tall iron fence sat a handsome sandstone mansion set with rows of curtained windows. A tidy lawn and flower garden surrounded it.
“Hopefield House,” Alec said.
Kate drew up the hood of her brown cloak and smoothed the skirts of her forest green gown, tugging at the snug jacket of tartan plaid. Sophie had lent her the outfit, insisting that Kate must be dressed moreà la modethan the girl usually liked. Sophie had helped her arrange her hair in fat curls as well, though now, as she patted at her hair, Kate was not sure it had held up well on the journey. She pulled gloves of thin green leather over her trembling fingers.
Alec stepped down from the coach and turned to help Kate. When she alighted, he kissed her cheek under the shadow of her hood. “Should we see any soldiers in the city, love,” he murmured, “keep your head down. It is possible you could be recognized.”
“Her fairy beauty will blind ‘em, and she can charm the breeches off ‘em,” Jack quipped as he came toward them.
“We will let them keep their breeches, shall we?” Alec muttered. He turned and waved. “Aunt Euphemia! And hullo, who is this?”
Kate whirled to see him smiling and bending low as three little girls in ruffled pastel gowns raced toward him from the open door of the mansion. Behind them came a tall red-haired woman dressed in black. The children ran across the yard toward them, the littlest girl toddling so fast and unevenly that Alec scooped her into his arms just as she began to stumble.
“Miss MacCarran,” he said, turning with the child held securely in one arm. “Allow me to present my nieces and my aunt, Mrs. Euphemia Fraser.”
He turned again to accept his aunt’s embrace. The woman was nearly as tall as her nephew, perhaps matching his weight and bulk, for she seemed so delighted to see him that she nearly lifted him up off the ground. Around them, the other two little girls, in soft blue and yellow and bouncing curls, jumped with excitement.
“Uncle Alec! Uncle Alec!”
“You have have hurt your puir arm!” Euphemia Fraser exclaimed in a broad brogue, with a quick and curious glance at Kate as she spoke.
“Sword practice,” he said quickly. “It is healing nicely. Aunt Euphemia, allow me to present Miss Katherine to you. I have brought her to meet you and Uncle Walter.”
