The Hunter (Highland Guard #7)(107)

“Perhaps we’ve found a new recruit?” Sutherland said.

Ewen would have laughed if he weren’t thinking that they would be needing one soon. “You never know.”

“So what now?”

“We go back to Roxburgh and wait for the lad to report back to us.”

“And then?”

Ewen wished to hell he knew. He was out of leads. He didn’t realize how much he’d pinned his hopes on today. But one thing was for certain: he wasn’t going to give up until he found her.

Janet stared at her informant in stunned disbelief. The English meant to capture Robert at Selkirk under the auspices of a peace negotiation? It defied every notion of honor. It was a breech of a code between soldiers in warfare—by long tradition, parleys were sacred ground under the cover of a truce. “Are you certain?”

“I would not risk this if I were not. It is all there,” her informant said, referring to the parchment. “I was only fortunate I found this out earlier this evening. The feast day celebration enabled me to sneak out of the castle. But I must return before anyone notices I am gone. You can get this to him in time?”

Janet’s mind was already racing with all she had to do. She would prepare to leave immediately, staying just long enough to say goodbye to the Hendeses, gather her belongings, and with any luck procure a horse. The feast would help in that regard. “I can.”

The words had barely left her mouth before they heard footsteps and the sound of voices.

“Where did she go?” a man said angrily.

Janet felt a flash of alarm but told herself it was nothing. Probably her next dance partner looking for her.

The two women’s eyes met in the darkness. “Go,” Janet said. “Someone is coming.”

The woman nodded. “Godspeed,” she whispered, and to Janet’s surprise, she leaned over to give her a quick hug before turning to go.

But the woman had barely taken a few steps when disaster struck. “There!” a man shouted. “After her! Don’t let her get away.”

A man came running toward them—a big man. Janet didn’t have time to think. She acted on instinct, and her first one was to protect the other woman. Right as the man started to run past her, she stepped in his path.

Her intention was to trip him and sidestep out of the way, but it didn’t work out the way she had planned. Her skirt tangled in his foot, and he was able to grab her. They hit the ground together.

The blow jarred the air from her lungs, but she recovered fast and immediately scrambled to her feet. Unfortunately, the big oaf did as well. He was even taller than Ewen, although he didn’t smell as nice. This man stank as if he labored with pigs all day.

She would have twisted away, but his hands were like big, meaty manacles. “What is the meaning of this? Unhand me!”

Surprisingly, he did. The authority of her tone must have startled him. The man was big and bulky, with a peasant’s flat face, blunt features, and a neck that seemed crunched into his shoulders. If it was possible to look thick-headed, he did a fine job of it.

Janet relaxed a little. Talking her way out of this shouldn’t be too difficult. “How dare you attack me like that! Look what you’ve done.” She held up her skirt. “You’ve ripped my gown. Do you realize how much this cost? You can be assured that I will be sending you an accounting for the repair.”

He backed up a step or two, and she tried not to laugh. “I didn’t mean—”

She didn’t let him finish, keeping him on the defensive. “Do you make it your business to accost innocent women in dark alleys?”

“Nay, I was told … He told me—”

He looked toward the street, and Janet glanced over at the man who was approaching. He was the one who’d issued the order.

He was about twenty feet away and looking right at her.

“It is you,” he said. “I thought so but wasn’t sure. It’s a long way from Italy, Sister Genna.”

The blood drained from her face. Oh God, the priest from the market! She wasn’t going to be talking her way out of this after all.

But there was one thing she could do. Before the big oaf collected his wits and reached for her again, she ran.

Twenty-four

“After her!” the priest shouted. “Guards! Don’t let her get away.”

Janet shot down the wynd as fast as her legs would carry her.

One glance over her shoulder sent her pulse jumping through her throat. Figures were shadowed at the mouth of the wynd behind her. A half-dozen soldiers, maybe more. They’d been closer than she realized.

She took some comfort in the knowledge that her source had likely gotten away, but that was dampened by the realization of what was at stake. If she didn’t get out of here, if she didn’t get to Bruce in time, it could all be over.

Knowing she had only a few minutes to get out of the village before they blocked off the roads, she turned at the first corner and plunged down another dark wynd.

She could hear them chasing behind her, but she didn’t think about it. Her lungs were bursting and her legs were weakening, but she didn’t slow. She kept her mind focused on getting out of the village. If she could make it to the forest, she had a chance.

But they were fanning out behind her. Closing in.

She needed a horse. But that would have to wait. If she could just make it to Rutherford, she would be able to find something.