She knelt beside the chest to open it. It was not locked, for Hugh believed-and with good reason-that no one would dare take anything from it. Since she wanted to make the toddies sufficiently potent to dull the guards' alertness long enough to serve her purpose, she was tempted to take three bottles; but she decided that Matty and Sheila would balk at such a blatant misuse of their master's brandy. The cider was potent even without the added brandy, and on such a cold night the men had doubtless drunk a good deal of ale with their supper. She settled for two.
Carrying the bottles back to the kitchen, she opened them and poured their contents into the pot of warming cider.
"Mistress Janet!" Matty was scandalized. "Sir Hugh never said to give those men all that brandy to drink."
Janet winked at her. "Sir Hugh annoyed me today, Matty. This will serve as excellent punishment for him, and the men will be glad of its warmth."
"That cider's strong by itself, mistress," Matty said, exchanging a look with Sheila. "With brandy added, 'tis more like to put them to sleep, I vow."
Sheila frowned. "The master will be gey wroth wi' ye, mistress."
Suppressing a shiver at how wroth her brother would be, Janet managed to say lightly, "He has been wroth with me before, and I expect that he will be again, but the men out there are cold. If they spend all their time stamping their feet to warm themselves, or slip indoors to seek warmth, they will not guard us well. I believe that if we do them a kindness, they will exert themselves more, and with reivers about, perhaps thinking about rescuing their leader … " She shrugged, letting their imaginations fill in the rest.
Matty said, "Sir Hugh's new wall is stout, mistress. No heathenish reivers will get through it."
Sheila did not look as confident, but since neither woman offered more argument, Janet was satisfied. In other circumstances she might have taken the opportunity to explain Matty's error, but presently it suited her plan to let them both think scornfully of raiders, and to believe that with the guards even half-awake, Rabbie's Bairns could never breach the castle's stone walls.
When the cider was hot, she told Sheila to finish banking the fire and then to take herself off to bed.
"Matty can help me carry the toddies out to the men," she said.
"I'll help her, mistress. Ye oughtn't to go out again on such a cold night."
"Don't be daft," Janet said. "I'm dressed more warmly than either you or Matty. Moreover, there must be no doubt in Sir Hugh's mind that this was my doing, so the men must see me. Now tend the fire as I bade you, Sheila, so that Matty can go to bed as soon as we have finished."
Sheila obeyed, so Janet picked up the chopins and followed Matty to the kitchen door.
Holding the pot in one hand, the maid opened the door with the other. Three stone steps led up to the torchlit bailey, where Janet saw with relief that Yaro's Wat had taken Small Neck Tailor's place at the dungeon entrance. She knew that the men followed no particular schedule, and she had feared that Geordie might have decided to stand guard in place of the smaller, slighter Wat. Geordie had a head for spirits that was the envy of many a Graham, and his presence might well have spoiled her hastily conceived plan.
The only other men in sight were a stable lad mucking out stalls and a guard by the postern gate, who would doubtless remain to admit Hugh and his men on their return. The main gates generally remained closed and barred after dark.
Matty said firmly, "I'll serve the three men on the wall first, mistress. Climbing them steps should keep me from freezing whilst I'm about it. I only hope I dinna drop the pot. My fingers be like icicles in this cold."
"I'll hold the pot whilst you fill three chopins," Janet said. "You tell them they can each have the one tote but no more. Sir Hugh must not find them drunk when he comes home."
Matty grimaced, but she made no objection when Janet took the pot from her and held it while she dipped each chopin to fill it.
Janet said casually, "I'll serve the three down here."
"But, mistress, 'tis enough that ye're here. Ye should not be serving-"
"Don't argue. The sooner we do this and get back inside, the sooner you will be warm again. I am wearing a heavy cloak and I do not mind the cold, but you are not dressed warmly enough to linger. Now go."
Matty obeyed with barely concealed gratitude, and Janet went first to the man by the postern gate, dipping him up a full chopin of the potent brew and assuring him that it would warm him through. He accepted it gratefully.
Filling another for the lad mucking out stalls, she took it into the stable, which now was aglow with torchlight. As she offered him the toddy, she said, "I do not think I know that large beast in the last stall."
"'Tis the reiver's pony, mistress," the lad said, leaning his rake against a wall and taking the chopin she held out. "I thank ye. 'Tis cold, the night."
"Aye," she said, still eyeing the magnificent horse. "I warrant Sir Hugh will like having that one. I'd like it myself."
"That b' ain't no lady's horse, Mistress Janet. Scottish Border ponies be but half-trained beasts at best. Sir Hugh said he'll soon teach this one manners, though."
That settled the matter as far as Janet was concerned. Moreover, if the reiver rode away on his own pony, Hugh could not charge him with another horse theft.
Offering the lad a refill, she made sure that she still had plenty for Yaro's Wat, and strolled outside to the dungeon door. "I hope you don't have to stand here all night, Wat," she said. "It's perishing cold out here."
Taking the mug she held out to him, he sipped, then looked at her curiously. "Strong stuff this be, mistress."
"Aye," she said, grinning at him. "I thought you'd be glad of it."
"I am that. Warms me right through, it does."
"Good. Will you have to stand here all night?"
"Only till two. Then Geordie said he'd take my place till dawn."
"Why do I not leave the pot, then?" Janet suggested. "The cider will not stay hot, but mayhap you will think of a way to warm some for him."
"An there be any left," Wat said, chuckling, "we'll find a way, I warrant."
Satisfied, Janet turned away to find Matty hurrying toward her. "Dinna leave that pot with him, Mistress Janet. Cook will be beside herself an she finds it missing, come morning. Both Sheila and me will be in for it then."
"Pour the rest into the loose pail from the well then," Janet said. "Someone will be glad to finish off the cider, and we must not waste it."
"Aye," Matty said doubtfully, but she knew better than to dispute Janet's decision in front of Yaro's Wat. Fetching the pail, she poured the cider into it, then set it down by the grinning Wat and walked with Janet back to the kitchen entrance. There, however, she said anxiously, "Mistress Janet, them lads ought not to be drinking their fill of that stuff. They'll be ape drunk or worse within the hour."
"Hush, Matty. This is my affair, and if Sir Hugh finds out, he will know exactly whom to blame for it. If you are wise, you will not mention to anyone that you had anything to do with it. The men will not betray you, I assure you. Indeed, they most likely will say nothing at all about the cider, so unless we suffer some horrid mischance, Sir Hugh need never learn what happened to it."
"Very well, mistress, I'll warn that Sheila to keep her mouth shut. Got a tongue on her like a beggar's clapper, she does, but I trow she'll listen to me. Still and all, ye're up to summat, and I dinna like to think what Sir Hugh will do when he finds out what ye've done."
"No one else will suffer for it, Matty," Janet said. "If I must, I shall tell him I drank his stupid brandy myself."
"Ye'll never!"
"I shall if I must. I'll bid you good night now," she added before the woman could think of anything more to say on the subject. "I am not ready to go upstairs yet. I think I will take another turn round the bailey."
Matty sighed but said only, "Good night then, mistress. Dinna forget to bar the kitchen door when ye come in."
Waiting in the shadows just outside the door until she could be sure that Matty had gone to bed and the kitchen was empty, Janet went back to the fireplace and lifted the heavy poker from its hook. Holding it under her two cloaks, she counted slowly to three thousand, then went back outside. The stable was dark, and only the two torches flanking the main gate remained alight. By their ambient glow she could see Yaro's Wat, his head tilted back as he finished off what was left in his chopin. She wondered if any remained in the pail at his feet.
Waiting till she feared that her feet had begun to freeze, she walked out of the shadows at last, as certain as she could be that the men on the wall had taken cover from the cold. Even if they had not, she thought they would be watching more carefully for Hugh's return than they would for activity inside the bailey. She would have been happier had Wat gone to sleep, but she trusted to her imagination and his brandy-weakened senses to get her inside the dungeon.
She had walked close enough to be surprised that he did not greet her before she realized that, although he leaned upright against the wall, his eyes were shut. If he had not fallen asleep standing up, he was as near that state as made no difference.