"Come," he murmured.
"Won't they hear his shoes on the bailey cobblestones?"
"Bless you, lass, most Scottish ponies wear no shoes unless reivers shoe them backwards to lead their followers astray. My lad moves as silently as the wee cat, and he's near as deft in his movements, too," he added proudly.
Still carrying Jemmy Whiskers, grateful for the warmth of his small body, Janet followed as the reiver led the pony out of the stable, staying close to its wall and then to the curtain wall as they moved toward the postern gate. As they neared it, a snore startled them both. The guard lay curled across the gateway.
"Damnation," the reiver muttered. "I'll have to use the poker after all."
The lad was young, Janet knew, and would have to face Hugh. As she tried to decide whether it would be better for him to face his master with a broken head or a whole one, the reiver murmured against her ear, "Does it open outward or in?"
"Out," she said.
"As it should," he said. "'Tis more secure against intruders that way, a gate is. Not a sound now, lass. Not so much as a whisper."
She could barely see what he was doing, but he leaned away from her, and a moment later the gate swung open. To her amazement, the pony stepped daintily over the recumbent body, and the guard did not stir.
"Lift your skirts as you step over him," the reiver said, breathing the words just loudly enough for her to hear.
"I needn't do so," she whispered. "If you will just push the gate shut, the latch and bar will fall back into place. It cannot be opened from outside."
"Pushing it shut will make too much noise," he said. "You'll have to draw it toward you and shut it gently, and you cannot do that from where you are."
"But he's too close! I'll step on him."
"No, you won't. There's room enough on this side of him to stand whilst you close and bar the gate, and you won't have to put the damned cat down to do it."
It was hard to believe that she would fit, but since he could see better than she could from where he was, she decided to trust his judgment. It was difficult to manage both the cat and her skirts, but she gathered everything up that she could hold and carefully stepped over the guard. No sooner had she done so, however, than two strong hands grabbed her arms and pulled her close. Thinking he meant to kiss her, and hesitating to fight him, she kept silent just long enough to realize that he had eased the gate shut with his foot. She heard the latch click into place.
Horrified, she said, "I can't get back in now without waking someone!"
"I hoped that was the case," he said. "You are not going back, lass."
"Not going back? Of course, I am. I must! Hugh will kill me!" Fighting to keep her voice down, she nonetheless expected at any moment to hear a clamor erupt on the other side of the gate.
"I'm afraid he will kill you," the reiver said. "That's why I'm doing this."
"Doing what?"
"Abducting you, lass. I confess, though, I did not count on taking the cat."
Chapter 6
"My ladye's kindly care you'd prove,
Who ne'er kenn'd deadly hate."
"YOU CANNOT TAKE ME with you," Janet protested, turning her back to the stiff, icy wind and clutching the two cloaks around herself and the little cat.
"I'd have to be a knave to leave you here," he retorted. "What is the least that your brother would do to you for betraying him like this?"
"He would not dare harm me," she muttered.
"Since for safety's sake you must speak low, I cannot pretend to know for certain that you are lying," he said, and although he, too, kept his voice low, she could detect wry amusement in his tone. "Nonetheless," he added, "your words do not persuade me."
She could not blame him. They weren't doing much to persuade her either, because she knew as well as he did that, under English law, aiding his escape constituted "high treason and felony." By helping him, she was not merely risking her brother's displeasure. She was risking her life.
Gently, his hands still on her arms, he said, "Shall I leave you here to face the consequences of your kindness to me, Mistress Janet Graham?"
She knew that he could feel the shudder that rippled through her body. Jemmy Whiskers felt it, too, for the little cat mewed. It made no attempt to free itself from her grasp, however. The mew was clearly just a comment.
Although the reiver did not press for an answer to his question, she knew that he must be impatient. Hugh and his men could return at any moment.
"I am not usually at such a loss for words," she said. "I own, though, you have put me in a dreadful position by shutting the gate."
"You put yourself in that position when you freed me, lass."
"Aye, that's true."
"Would you let that hapless guard hang rather than admit to your brother that you helped me? Not that your admission would help the guard, I'll wager."
She remained silent, unable to pretend that she would lie to Hugh.
"I thought as much," he said. "It is a pity that I did not think of all this before I saddled only the one horse."
She sighed. "I would have argued more fiercely with you inside the walls."
"Aye, I ken that fine." She heard the chuckle again in his voice.
"Do you dare to laugh at me, reiver?"
"Lassie, that I can laugh at anything just now is a good sign. We must go."
"You are right," she agreed. "We'll ford the river Lyne at the bottom of the hill. Then we should ride northeast to cross the Liddel at Kershopefoot Bridge."
"Something warns me that you're a managing sort of female, Janet Graham."
"Aye, perhaps," she agreed. "I have managed a large household for nearly eight years, you see, so it cannot be surprising that I have learned to be decisive."
"I'd call it meddlesome, and we'll have a little less of it, if you please. We are not going to ride east or even north just yet. We'll follow the river west for a time instead, and then we'll make for the Scotch Dike."
"But that's in the Debatable Land-"
"Aye, it is," he interjected. "I know what I'm doing, lass, and you'll help best now by being silent. We must-"
"But that area is dangerous!" Thinking that she heard a sound from the east, and fearing that it might be Hugh, she turned to look as she added, "Moreover, it would be much quicker to-"
A hand clapped across her mouth, silencing her. In her ear, he said grimly, "You will be silent when I tell you to be silent. Both of our lives could depend upon it, and I am more experienced at this business of escaping the enemy than you are. Do you understand me?"
His tone made his point for him. She nodded.
"Good. Now, can I trust you to stand quietly whilst I mount, or must I put you up first and then try to swing up behind you? I warn you, my lad here is not accustomed to ladies' skirts or to cats, even wee ones."
When he removed his hand from her mouth, she muttered, "I'll be quiet."
"Excellent." On the word he was in the saddle, reaching a hand down to her. Somehow she managed to hold Jemmy Whiskers and her blowing skirts long enough to put a foot on his and let him swing her up to sit sideways before him.
"Will your pony be able to carry us both any distance like this?"
"Oh, aye. Now, hush. We'll ride alongside the wall so the lads above canna see us until we reach a point a wee bit nearer the trees by the river."
"Surely you don't mean to gallop down this hill."
"Stop trying to tell me what to do," he said. "Indeed, you can stop your nattering altogether. If it were not for this ceaseless wind, they'd have heard us by now, drunk or sober."
Knowing he was right, she kept quiet, and when at last he turned the bay away from the wall, she held her breath, expecting at any moment to hear shouts from above. None came, however, and she blessed the icy wind and Hugh's brandy.
The gelding padded quietly through the dark night. She could make out shapes of trees and bushes by starlight, and she knew that the moon would rise soon. With luck, they would be well away before Hugh and his men returned. Even as the thought crossed her mind, however, she glanced toward the west and stiffened at the sight of torches lighting the crest of the nearest hill.
"They're coming," she exclaimed. "Hurry!"
"We'll keep to a sensible pace," he replied calmly. "They cannot see us from where they are. The trees ahead make a black shadow that conceals us from anyone behind us. If we were riding along the horizon, they might see us, or if the moon should suddenly take it into its head to rise, they would. But the moon is on my side, lass. 'Tis a good Border moon that will pop out later to show us the way."
"But they will be after us by then!"
"Not necessarily."
"Don't be a dolthead," she snapped. "Do you think that my brother will not raise the countryside to follow us when he learns of your escape?"
"Well, now, I warrant he would if he were to realize that I've gone, but if we are lucky, he won't learn any such thing before morning."
"How can you say that? With Yaro's Wat in a stupor, and-Godamercy," she exclaimed when another thought struck her. "The keys! You left them in the cell door! Even if by some miracle Hugh should fail to notice that Wat-"