The Viper (Highland Guard #4)(55)

Margaret clapped her hands. “You see, it can work.”

Bella gave Lachlan an angry look for encouraging her cousin, for encouraging them both. This was hard enough, and they were only making it harder.

But was it possible …?

“We would have to change our plans a bit,” Lachlan said, considering. “Arrange an accident on the road as opposed to a direct attack. We’ll create a distraction and make the switch in the confusion.” He gazed at Margaret. “You would have to find an excuse not to accompany Bella. But it could be done.”

Oh, God. She felt the unmistakable rush of hope rising inside her. Could this actually work?

It could. She didn’t know anyone at the convent. If they could make the switch without the constable’s men knowing …

Her heart thumped wildly. Even if someone eventually discovered the truth, it would give her time to reach her daughter and get her to safety.

Joan was so close …

She tamped down the rising excitement and turned to Margaret to ask her again.

But Lachlan beat her to it. “Are you sure, lass? Are you certain you want to do this?”

A soft smile curved her cousin’s mouth. “I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.” Margaret clasped Bella’s hands in hers. “Taking the veil is my calling, dear cousin, now you can find yours.”

Bella didn’t miss the surreptitious glance her cousin stole toward Lachlan. But she was mistaken if she thought Bella harbored any thoughts in that direction.

She would put her fate in the brigand’s hands one more time to be free, but she would never risk her heart. She’d had enough disappointments for a lifetime.

Sensing the battle had been won, Lachlan did not give her the chance to argue further. Tossing the hood back over his head, he went to the door and gave it a sound thump.

“Be ready,” he said.

The door opened, and a moment later he was gone.

She stood by the window, her heart thumping erratically for what seemed forever. Finally, she saw the cloaked figure emerge from the tower and cross the courtyard to the gate. Only when he’d safely passed through did she exhale.

It was the chance to escape that made her worry, not fear for him. Lachlan MacRuairi always managed to land on his feet. Even if those around him did not.

Ten

This wasn’t going to work. How were they going to distract the guards long enough to make the switch?

Bella sat on a bench in the carriage that was transporting her from Berwick Castle to the convent, fighting to keep her seat as the rickety contraption—which had definitely seen better days—bumped along the progressively rougher and more uneven roads.

A simple construction of a wooden base and arched roof covered with leather, the carriage was open at both ends, providing Bella a view in front of her and behind but not to the side.

She’d been spared the humiliation of manacles, despite the fact that there was no door to lock. If the threats against her daughter weren’t enough to deter thoughts of escape, the twenty or so armed soldiers accompanying her should suffice.

As the royal burgh of Berwick-upon-Tweed gave way to countryside, Bella’s tunneled glances outside grew more frequent and the beat of her heart more frantic.

It was nearly dawn now. The convent couldn’t be much farther. Had something gone wrong? Perhaps they weren’t expecting her to be moved so early? It was still dark when she’d left the castle. Or perhaps her cousin had changed her mind?

The pit in her stomach grew to despair. She’d been resigned to her fate. Accepted it. Allowing herself to hope—nay, to believe—she would have freedom, only to have it taken away again, was too much to be borne. She should never have listened to him, never should have agreed. But Lachlan had seemed so sure, so certain that this would work. Desperately she’d clung to any thread of hope, no matter how thin.

Had she learned nothing from their disastrous journey north two years ago? How could she have allowed herself to believe him even for a moment—

The carriage came to a sudden, jerking halt. Her white-knuckled grip on the edge of the bench was the only thing that kept her from pitching off her seat.

Voices rang out. Her heart hammered, knowing this must be it.

She waited a few moments before scooting to the back opening of the cart. She spoke to the closest man. “Is something wrong? Why did we stop?” She was grateful for the dark veil that hid her face, fearing that he would see her excitement.

He must have mistaken the breathlessness in her voice for fear. “Overturned cart up ahead,” he replied. “Nothing for you to worry about. We should be on our way in a few minutes.” He gestured with a nod of his steel-helmed head. “Some of the men have gone to help.”

Bella nodded and tried to act calm. She wished she knew Lachlan’s plan, and whether there was anything she could do to help. From what she could tell, there were at least six of the castle guardsmen still surrounding her carriage.

Five more minutes passed, though it seemed to her interminably longer as she waited on the edge of her seat for what might happen next.

She turned at the sound of a voice. From his heavily Scots-accented English, she knew he wasn’t one of the soldiers.

“You aren’t safe here,” the newcomer said to the soldiers. “Those ropes won’t hold much longer. If those logs break free before we can get the cart upright, they’re liable to roll into your horses and your carriage.”