The Prince and I (19 page)

She flipped through the ledger. “Heavens! He wrote down everything: what he had for lunch, how his knee feels, how much sleep he had—”

“—how many guards are stationed and where, each and every day, how much those guards cost the earl,
the names of every person on each squadron and their leaders—it is a complete record.”

The door opened and the rest of Max’s men entered, as did Ian, who hurried to Murian’s side. “Will is comin’. I thought Widow Reeves might be of help, too, seein’ as how she was once the cook and knows the lower floors.”

“Good,” Murian said. “Look at what the prince and his men have brought. Guard schedules, names of each squad commander, maps of Rowallen, and anything else we might need.”

Ian looked impressed. “Then we’ll be set.”

Max nodded as he crossed his arms. “Here is what we think. When the entertainment begins that evening, we will allow it to continue for an hour or so—”

The barn door opened again and Widow Reeves came in, Will behind her. Widow Reeves peered at the papers on the table. “Och, bu’ tha’ is a guid drawin’ of the castle interior! Who made it?”

Demidor jerked his thumb at Golovin, who flushed.

She eyed him with admiration. “Ye did a fine job, ye did.”

Golovin didn’t seem to know where to look.

“As I was saying, Murian,” Max continued in a firm tone, a hint of exasperation in his voice. “Once the entertainment begins, we will throw the signal for you to approach the castle. We don’t know the exact time, because you know how this sort of event can go.”

“Aye. Sometimes the singer is late, or the guests linger over dinner—one never knows.”

“Exactly.”

“Where is the singer performing?”

He placed his finger on the map. “The blue salon, here.”

Murian nodded “As we thought.”

“
Da
. It is being cleaned, the rugs beaten, and chairs arranged in preparation. No other rooms but that room and the dining room are being prepared.”

“How will you let me know when it’s safe to approach the castle?”

Orlov pulled another paper from the stack and placed it on the top. This map was of the lands around the castle, each outbuilding sketched in. “You and Ian and Will will wait here for our signal.” Orlov pointed to a ridge to the east of the castle.

“Tha’ willna work,” Will said.

“Why not?” Orlov asked.

“Loudan posts guards on tha’ ridge from dark ’til dawn.”

“The lad is right,” Ian agreed. “We’ve seen them many times.”

“True,” Max said. “But
this
night, they will not be there from eight o’clock onward.”

Ian’s thick brows rose. “Ye can arrange tha’?”

“
Da
, which is why you, Will, and Lady Murian will arrive at eight thirty and not a moment before.”

Ian’s eyes gleamed. “Takin’ care o’ them, are ye?”

“Aye, but gently.”

“Wha’ are ye goin’ to do?” Will asked, looking concerned.

“The guards will be convinced by two very willing
housemaids to imbibe some forbidden whiskey while working. They will wake up in the stables the next morning with no memory of how they got there. I rather doubt they’ll admit to Loudan that they were derelict in their duties, but will instead pretend they were at their stations all night long.”

Murian nodded thoughtfully. “So you will clear the guards on this side.”

“
Da
. Once it is done, we will put a light in the small window of the yellow sitting room, which is beside the blue salon. Once you see the signal, you will come to the study window here.” Max pointed again.

“The second window over.” She frowned. “Why the study?”

“It is best. And come dressed as a thief, not as Maid Murian. It will make things easier, should we need to move quickly.” He cut a hard look at Will and Ian. “You two must see to it that Lady Murian makes it safely to this window as quickly as possible after the signal is given. Though the guards will be gone, there is a lot of open ground here. If someone should happen to look out of the window and see her, things could go wrong very quickly.”

“We will do wha’ we must,” Ian said firmly.

Will nodded. “Aye, bu’—no’ meaning any disrespect, is tha’ all we do?”

Orlov scowled. “What you will be doing is important and dangerous. You will be escorting her ladyship over open ground to the castle, and guarding her with your life.”

“And while she is inside the castle?” Will asked.

“You two will move to here.” Orlov pointed to the kitchen door in the back of the castle. “You will wait until we escort her out. Once we get her there, you will need to get her away from the castle as quickly as possible.”

“You will have to hide while you wait,” Demidor warned. “There will be many servants bustling in and out. I have watched them for the last two days, and there are only a few places to hide: here at the stone wall by the well, and—”

“—behind the icehouse,” Ian finished, his voice heavy with sarcasm. “We lived there fer years; we know where to hide fra’ the cook.”

“I can vouch fer tha,’ ” Widow Reeves sniffed.

“How long will we be waitin’?” Will asked.

“As long as it takes Lady Murian to do what must be done.”

Will bent over the map, his gaze flickering over each room, each sketched-in window and door. “How do ye plan on gettin’ Lady Murian through the castle to the master bedchamber? If she’s goin’ in through the study, she’ll find herself facin’ far too many servants to keep her presence a secret.”

“Leave that to us. We have it well in hand.” Max nodded and Orlov began collecting the papers. “I think that is all—”

“Nay.” Murian pulled the papers out of Orlov’s hands and placed them back on the table.

Orlov stopped, surprised, while Max frowned.

“We need more details, if you please,” she said. “How do you expect to get from the study to the master bedchamber?”

“We’ve planned it well; you need have no fear of that.”

“I’m sure you have, with what knowledge you have collected. But you dinna know all you need to.”

“I appreciate your concern, but it’s unwarranted.” Max’s voice was sharp with impatience. “We’ve thought through every contingency. My men and I have handled far more complicated details than this, and we know how best to get you where you must go. Save your worry about where you’ll search once you’re in the master bedchamber.”

“Max, there’s much you can’t know aboot the castle unless you lived there day in and day oot, and had the running of it, as well. We know how things work there: what hallways are the most traveled, which rooms are never used. I’ll not put myself into your care wi’oot some details, when ’tis possible we may know some things that could make your plan better.”

Max stiffened, suddenly every inch the prince—stern, unsmiling, inflexible.

Her heart tumbled a little, but she refused to back down.

Will looked outraged for Murian.

After a tense moment, Ian’s deep chuckle broke the silence. “Easy, now, the two of ye. Mayhap we should discuss this tomorrow, when we’ve ha’ some time to think it through.”

“I think Lady Murian ha’ the right of it,” Will said stubbornly. “We should be included in the plannin’.”

“You have been,” Max snapped.

“Nay, we havena. Ye marched in here and tossed
yer papers down, so pleased ye collected some number and wha’ no’. ’Tis no’ enough.”

“We’ve been inside the castle for several weeks,” Golovin pointed out. “What can you know that we do not?”

Murian asked calmly, “Which doorway does the earl use when he meets with his guards?”

“The eastern portal,” Demidor answered, looking proud.

The other men murmured in approval.

“Aye, when it’s dry,” Murian agreed.

Demidor’s smile faded. “I beg your pardon?”

“He canna use that door when it rains, for the window beside it leaks, and the stone floor becomes as slick as ice. So on those days, he goes out the main doorway and speaks with them there.”

Demidor blinked. “Oh.”

Max’s jaw tightened, but after a moment he said to Murian, “Fine. We’ll share our plans and hear what you have to say.”

She met his gaze, and her expression softened. “I know you have our best interests at heart.” She could see his genuine concern. His greatest fault wasn’t his plaguey confidence, but an overwhelming desire to always do right.

She pointed to the castle floor plan. “What should we know first?”

As she and Ian bent over the map, Max outlined the route he and Orlov had decided on to get Murian to the master bedroom. When he finished, Murian tapped a
small room almost directly across from the study. “This could be a problem.”

Ian nodded. “I was just thinkin’ the same thing.”

Max leaned forward, his shoulder against hers. “We looked at that room. It’s quite small, and is never used.”

“Except during an event. Long ago, ’twas to be a butler’s pantry, to stage meals for the breakfast room, which is here.” She slid her finger down the hall and around the corner to a small room west of the foyer. “But as you can see, ’tis hardly convenient, so it was never used for that.”

“Which was a pity,” Widow Reeves agreed, “for ’twas difficult keepin’ dishes warm fra’ the kitchen all the way to the breakfast room.” She leaned close to Golovin, who stood nearby. “We placed hot stones under the serving dishes to keep ’em warm.”

“How is the room used now?” Max asked impatiently.

“ ’Tis used by the footmen to hold coats whenever there’s a ball or a dinner or such.”

“The real footmen, not the guards-pretending-to-be-footmen,” Ian clarified.

“Why is that a detriment?” Orlov asked. “They will put the coats in the room before dinner, and then get them as the evening closes. I fail to see the problem.”

“
Nyet
.” Max sighed. “The footmen will be in and out of that room throughout the evening.”

“Aye,” Murian agreed. “As people arrive, the footmen will hang the coats in this room. When there is time
throughout the evening, various footmen will return to brush the coats so they are clean before being returned to the guests.”

“Which means,” Max finished, “they’ll most likely use the time during the performance to see to those duties. So the footmen will be in and oot of this room just when we most need the hallway empty.”

“So the study window won’t work,” Orlov said wryly.

“Exactly.” Murian leaned her elbows on the plank table and peered more closely at the map. “Which window should be used, then?”

Ian smacked Max’s shoulder. “Sorry, lad. Ye canno’ be right all the time.”

Max’s gaze was fixed on the map as well, his expression thoughtful. “
Nyet
, my friend. I would rather be wrong now than wrong the night of the raid.” His even gaze lifted to Murian’s. “We’ve too much to lose.”

Her throat tightened unexpectedly. His voice was as steady as his gaze, and she flushed. To pass the moment without embarrassing herself, she pulled the map closer, almost bumping heads with Will, who’d leaned forward when she did.

After a moment, Will placed his finger on a small room at the corner of the back of the castle.

She looked at it and then nodded. “Aye, that will do.”

“What room is that?” Max asked.

“The music room,” Will answered absently, his gaze locked on the drawing. “No one has used it since Lady Murian left. They say ’tis thick wi’ dust now.”

“Is it?” Murian sighed. “I couldna bring the piano
forte, as much as I’d have liked to. It would have ruined in the damp.”

“Yet another skill you possess,” Max said.

She had to laugh. “I wouldn’t call it ‘skill.’ The more honest word is ‘peck.’ ”

“Whist,” Widow Reeves said. “Ye played like an angel, ye did. We’ve all heard ye.”

“You are too kind. I dinna think I could play now; it’s been too long.” Murian folded the map and handed it to Orlov. “The music room it is. The servants willna be walking past it, as it’s well past the kitchens and the coatroom.”

“Agreed,” Max said.

Orlov started to reach for the rest of the papers, then hesitated. “Did ye wish to see anything else, my lady?”

Murian shook her head. “Nay, I think we’ve covered what we need to.”

“ ’Tis a guid plan,” Ian agreed.

“Very good.” Orlov gathered the papers and replaced them in the pouch.

Max looked at his men. “We’ve not much time today, as the ride back will be slower than usual. But for now, we’ve work to do here.”

“
Da
.” Demidor rubbed his hands together. “I’m ready.”

Golovin turned to the men. “Since we could not bring wood today, let’s fix the leaks about the windows and doors. That will be a good thing once this snow melts.” He left, the other men following.

“Come, Will,” Widow Reeves said. “Ye can help. I’ve been ripping rags fra’ old skirts all mornin’ to use as
packin’ under the doors to keep the chill oot. Ye can fetch bags of the same from Widow Brodie and Widow MacCrae and bring them to my cottage.”

As he started to follow her out, Murian called, “Will?”

He looked back.

“Thank you for your help. You had a good idea, you did.”

He grinned, and for the first time, she was struck with how handsome he could be.
When he smiles, he looks a lot like Robert.

“ ’Twas nothin’, me lady.” He followed Widow Reeves to the door.

The widow stuck her head back inside. “Ian Beagin, Widow MacDonald is callin’ fer ye.”

“Wha’ does she want?”

Widow Reeves planted her fist on her hip. “Do I look like a mind reader to ye? All I know is she’s yellin’ and cursin’ oop a storm.”

“Fine, fine,” Ian grumbled. He stomped to the door and marched out.

As soon as he was gone, Widow Reeves shut the door.

Max picked up a rake, carried it to the barn door, and placed it so that the thick handle wedged the door closed. That done, he returned to Murian.

She eyed his handiwork with a smile. “Well done.”

He came and pulled her into his arms. “I have many skills,
dorogaya moya.
”

She tilted her head to one side. “What does that mean,
dorogaya moya
? I have wondered many times, but was hesitant to ask.”