Rowan's Lady (6 page)

But, could there also be stairs that led to
freedom? Arline had to believe there were. Even the home she grew up in had
hidden escape routes. And it was by no means a castle.

Arline looked out the window at the bright autumn
day. The trees were just beginning to turn. Arline knew that very soon the
autumn rains would begin and likely not cease for quite some time. All too soon
rain would turn to snow.

But she wouldn’t be here to see another winter. In
less than two weeks her marriage to Garrick would end. He would have it
annulled and she would be sent back to her father.

If Willie’s father did not pay the ransom before
she was sent back to Ireland, then who would care for her? Her heart went heavy
with the thought of this sweet, innocent child left alone in the care of
servants or, worse yet, Garrick’s men.

Arline could not allow that to happen. She had to
find a way out and had to find it quickly. No matter what the consequences if
she were caught, she had to do what she could for Willie’s sake.

As soon as night fell and Willie was lost in
peaceful slumber, Arline would begin what she could only pray would be the
first step toward freedom. She would find a way out.

It had taken Arline five nights of prowling through
black corridors and hidden passages before she finally found a way out. Blessed
Mary, she had done it!

She had found a small hidden door in the small
chamber she used as a dressing room, and she had found it quite by accident. She’d
been rummaging through her trunk looking for buttons to use as eyes for a doll
she had made for Willie. The buttons were mismatched, but Arline was certain
that Willie wouldn’t mind.

She had dropped one of the buttons behind the
trunk when she shut the lid. In her search for the errant button, she had felt
a draft coming in from the wall behind the tapestry where the trunk had sat all
these many months.

It had not been an easy feat, after three nights
of scraping her hands and knees from crawling around on rough stones, bumping
her head, running into dead ends, she had finally found the way out.

Tonight would be the night. Her marriage would
undoubtedly be annulled in three days. More likely than not, Garrick would send
her away as soon as the priest granted him his request.

There was no time to lose and there was too much
at stake if she waited.

Arline breathed a sigh of relief when she finally
crawled through the hidden doorway and back into her room. Willie slept
soundly, curled into a little ball in the big bed, her little thumb thrust into
her mouth. The child slept like that each night, one thumb in her mouth whilst
the index finger of her other hand was wrapped around a curl.

As quietly as she could, Arline scrubbed away the
grime she had accumulated during her sojourn through the dark passages. Dawn
had yet to break over the horizon and she had no desire to have Willie wake
just yet. For the past several nights, Arline had forgone sleep in order to
find a way out of the castle.

If they were to escape tonight, Arline would need
more than just a few minutes rest. She did not enjoy the thought of running
through the countryside with a small child in tow on very little sleep. She
needed to keep her wits about her.

After stripping off her stockings, rinsing them
and hanging them by the fire to dry, Arline slipped quietly into the bed. She
soon found that she was too excited and nervous to sleep. Mentally she ran
through her list of supplies, limited and sparse as they were.

Since she had made the decision to find a means of
escape, she had been preparing. She hoarded away small slices of bread and
cheese, sewed extra stockings and added a lining to Willie’s cloak. She had
even taken a blanket, cut holes in it and affixed straps so that she might be
able to carry Willie on her back when the child grew weary.

Arline hadn’t the foggiest idea how close the
nearest town might be for she had not left the castle since her arrival last
year. She had remembered passing through several small villages and towns when
Garrick had brought her here. From her recollection, she felt certain they were
all to the south. With little else to go on she had to be comfortable in that
decision.

Once she and Willie -- she refused to think of
‘ifs’ -- reached a village, she would make the ultimate sacrifice. She would
send word to her father.

That was the only part of her plan that made her
apprehensive.

Until Willie had arrived, her only goal once her
marriage was annulled, was to travel as far away from her father as she could
manage. She only had to survive until her birthday, which fell around
Christmastime. Once she reached the age of five and twenty, she would no longer
be forced to heed her father’s bidding. She would be free to go wherever she
wished. And never again, would she be subjected to an arranged marriage and the
humility such unions brought.

But that was before Willie.

She was afraid that if she let it be known that
the child she travelled with belonged to Rowan Graham, then word would quickly
spread and Garrick would find them. She could not allow that to happen.

It was worth the sacrifice of her own freedom to
see to it that Willie was reunited with her father. Mayhap she could put her
father off a few months, feign an illness, or simply run away once Willie was
returned safely to the loving arms of her father.

As tired and exhausted as she was, sleep continued
to evade her. She wondered about Willie’s father. What kind of man was he? He
had to be a good man and a kind father, Arline supposed, else Willie wouldn’t
idolize him as she did.

Although she had sworn off men and hopes of a
happy marriage and babes of her own, there were times, like this, when sleep
was elusive and the cold air enveloped her, that she did wish to have a set of
warm, strong arms wrapped around her. The thought of warm arms left her with a
huge sense of longing.

Silently, she cursed her heart and mind for allowing
the images and thoughts through the barrier she had built.
It does no good
to want for somethin’ ye’ll never have,
she admonished.
There will be no
man and no home filled to the rafters with babes.

The Blackthorn keep stood black against the indigo
sky. Torches that lined the large curtain wall cast eerie shadows against the
massive four-story keep. Rowan was thankful there was no moon this night for
they needed the complete cover of darkness to gain entry.

Had the kidnapping taken place five years ago or
even a few more years into the future, Rowan would have had hundreds of men to
help him lay siege to Blackthorn Castle. But the Black Death of 1350 had
decimated not only his own clan, but countless others across Scotland. It would
be years before the Graham Clan could ever reach the number of able-bodied
fighting men they had prior to that awful, dark time.

Two of Rowan’s best men had been watching the keep
for days, hidden in the forests that surrounded it. Rowan had requested help
from clans McDougall, McKee and McDunnah the very day he had received the news
that his daughter had been taken. The chief from each of these clans had brought
with them as many men as they could, which was not many. The numbers of these
clans had been significantly reduced by the same cursed epidemic that had come
close to wiping out Rowan’s clan.

Though their numbers had dwindled and their
resources were just as scarce, not one had turned down Rowan’s request for
help. Rowan had never been more thankful for the alliance and friendship that
had been forged amongst himself and these clans as he was this night.

Nial McKee and twenty-five of his men, along with
the thirty that Duncan McEwan brought from clan MacDougall, were encamped and
well hidden some two miles south of Blackthorn keep. To the north and east,
Caelen McDunnah and fifty of his men waited for word as well. Rowan had brought
nearly every able-bodied man in his clan, a sad number at twenty. He had left
behind barely enough to defend his keep.

As Rowan waited in the dark forest, he quietly
tallied the number of men at his disposal. It was, to say the least, a dismal
number. He sorely wished he could simply lay siege to the damned keep, rush in,
find his daughter, and then leave nothing but burning embers in his wake.
Instead of a full out invasion, Rowan and his men would have to rely on
cunning, stealth, and a heavy dose of divine intervention.

His men had reported that the best way into the
keep was at the weakest point on the north side. That part of the keep was not
well guarded. Rowan could only suppose it was because the entire north side was
nothing but flat land and it would be quite easy to see someone approaching.

They would have to make their way in from the west
and work their way around to the north side. It would by no means be an easy
expedition, but it would be worth it.

They decided that Rowan, Frederick and Daniel
would be the three men who made their way into the keep. Frederick had tried,
quite unsuccessfully, to talk Rowan out of actually entering the keep. Rowan,
however, was unmovable on the point. It was
his
daughter who had been
kidnapped. Rowan was fully intent on getting her back. And if God saw to it and
allowed him the opportunity, he would be the one who cut Garrick Blackthorn’s
throat.

The three men were covered from head to toe in
black clothing. They had also painted their faces and hands with black paint.
Every weapon, even the rope they carried, was painted black. Ginger-haired
Frederick and blond-headed Daniel had black hoods draped over their heads. They
were taking enough chances as it was without the light from a torch or candle
somewhere within the keep glinting off anything.

With quiet, stealthy precision, they made their
way across the western portion of Blackthorn lands, toward the keep by crawling
on their bellies. It took some time, but after more than half an hour, they
reached the outer wall.

With no more sound than a cat walking across the
grass, they made their way along the outer wall to the north side. With
practiced skill, they maintained steady breathing, as well as steady steps
until they were able to find a good place to climb over the wall.

With great care and silence, Frederick removed the
rope draped across his shoulder. Taking the looped end in one hand, he twirled
it about his head before tossing it high into the air. He missed his first
attempt at securing it around the parapet of the walk wall. Gritting his teeth
and cursing under his breath, he tried again, this time with success.

Moments later, the three men were over the walk
wall and working their way into the castle.

Arline had spent the better part of the day and
evening, quietly making preparations for their impending escape. Wanting to
make certain they had at least two days worth of food for their journey, Arline
had skipped eating lunch and instead, tucked the meat, bread, and cheese into
her satchel.

It had taken Arline some time to finally fall
asleep that night, her nerves a tangled mess of fear induced excitement.
Thankfully, Willie had fallen asleep with little trouble, clinging to the
little doll Arline had made for her.

Arline had not been asleep long when Garrick
pulled her from her bed. Her mind was muddled and for a moment, she could not
fathom why he was dragging her from her bed and into the hallway, without
saying a word.

The light from the burning torches stung her eyes.
It did not take much time for the cobwebs of sleep to be replaced with abject
fear.

He’s found out! He knows I planned to escape
and now he’s come to kill me.
Arline swallowed the knot that had formed in
her throat and looked fearfully up at Garrick.

He looked positively livid. His face was red and
she could see his heart beating furiously in the vein of his neck. His large
hand dug into her arm painfully. Arline knew better than complain that he was
hurting her. Complaints would do nothing more than to further incite his anger.

Garrick had taken several steps away from her
bedchamber door before tossing her against the wall. Her breath was momentarily
taken from her from the force as much as the welling fear. Somehow she managed
to remain standing and mute.

Garrick came and stood inches away from her. “Do ye
ken what day this be?” he asked gruffly.

Arline quickly shook her head, unable to speak at
the moment. Inwardly, she thought mayhap this would be the day she died.

“It is just past the midnight hour. ’Tis a special
day, to be sure.” His smile was evil, sinister. Cold fingers of fear shot down
her spine.

“It has been exactly one year, one month and one
day since we were forced to marry.”

Arline’s brow knitted into a fine line of
confusion. She had been diligently keeping track, using marks on the wall of her
closet, to mark the passing time. “Today?” she asked breathlessly. “I thought
there were three more days,” she said, more to herself than to Garrick.

Garrick’s laughter was clearly maniacal. “I can
assure ye that it
is
today.”

She wracked her brain trying to figure out where
she had gone wrong.
Three days. I had three days! I’ve kept track since….
’Twas then that realization hit her like a wall of cold water. She had been
counting down the days since her
arrival
, not their actual wedding date.
She had neglected to take into account the three days it took to arrive at
Blackthorn Castle.

How could I be so stupid! She cursed herself.

Garrick took a step closer. “The priest has just
granted me the annulment. Ye are no longer my concern. I want ye out of this castle.
Now.
”

Her only thought at the moment was of the innocent
child sleeping a few steps away. She could not help herself. “But what of the
babe?”