When Fate Dictates (17 page)

“Well Mrs. Lamont, wife of Simon Lamont,” he
said, his tone mockingly condescending. “I am assuming it is the
Red Coats that you seek to avoid this night.”

My heart raced at the mention of the Red
Coats. My head told me to run but my gut instinct told me to stand
my ground. I stared back at him, watching and waiting for him to
make his next move.

“There is no need for you to fear me,” he
laughed, waving his jug toward his mouth again and spilling a large
portion of its contents down his bearded chin. “Your husband and I
have had many dealings and you are right to trust me,” he paused as
he steadied himself on the bale. “I have heard that he is dead. You
are a fortunate woman to still be alive. To honor the memory of my
lost friend and to spit in the face of the Red Coats I will sell
you your horse,” he rose, steadied himself and then flung the door
to the stable behind the bale on which he had been sat open. “Do
you have need of a saddle?” he asked, throwing me off guard.

I stuttered, my words erratic and jumbled.
“Err, I think, erm...”

He interrupted me. “I would say that to ride
the creature Mrs. Lamont you would have need of a saddle.”

I nodded gratefully, and started to walk
toward the open stable. “You can have Polly,” he said, handing me
the reins to a beautiful pitch black creature. “I call her Polly
after my missus,” he smiled, and with it I saw that the man was not
as bitter as he had at first appeared. “She is a good horse and
will see you right, strong as an ox but as gentle in nature as a
butterfly,” he boasted, affectionately patting the creature. “Now
be gone with you madam, this post house is host to your husband’s
killers this very night.” And with that he turned and made to
leave.

“But how much do I owe you?” I called,
watching him as he stumbled his way toward the back gate of the
yard. He turned, clumsily. “Nothing Mrs. Lamont, she is my gift to
you in sorrow for your husband’s parting. Now I told you, the Red
Coats are all over this city; your husband’s killer is here. If you
want to leave this city alive my advice to you would be to go now,
before you bring attention to yourself.”

As I felt the cold metal of the key in my
pocket I took one more tentative glance at the post house. I
wondered if the Red Coats would be interested in my leaving the
city or if, as Simon and I hoped, they would expect it and just let
me go. I was under no illusion, that if we got caught and Simon was
shot again, he would not live through a second bullet. Focusing on
the cobbles of the street I quickened my pace, willing the next few
hours to be over and did not welcome the thought of the cold,
perilous journey we had ahead. Riding the horse steadily through
the cobbled streets of the city, it was not long before I reached
the bridge over the Ouse.

Slipping the key into the lock of the large
warehouse doors, I sighed, realizing that the first part of the
plan had indeed gone as hoped. The cold evening had provided me
with a quiet city, most folk in their homes with their fires lit
against the winter’s night. I pulled my cloak tighter around me,
realizing for the first time how cold the air actually was. I cast
a nervous glance toward the stone steps of the bridge, before
pushing the door open and stepping inside the warehouse.
Fortunately, I knew the space well and had no trouble locating the
cart in the darkness of the room. Knowing that the cart would be
heavy and cumbersome I mustered every ounce of strength I owned and
pulled until I felt the wheels start to move. Once turning, the
wheels moved smoothly through the large doors and out onto the
cobbled path by the river bank. Harnessing the horse, I mounted the
cart and began the slow journey home. Tears ran from my eyes as a
blast of the icy wind blew head on, into my face. There was no
opportunity on the return journey to worry about the Red Coats. My
heart pounded with fear and my face burnt, as the wind whipped me
unmercifully. I finally pulled the cart to a halt beside the narrow
entrance to the alley on Stonegate. I bent slightly, rubbing my
hands on my thighs in an effort to regain some feeling in my frozen
legs. As I jumped from the cart onto the cobbled stones of the
street, I cast a nervous glance down the street, toward the post
house. All that remained now was to get Simon and Duncan safely
from the house to the cart and out of the city.

Locking the heavy oak door to our home for
the last time, I took Duncan and went ahead to check that the path
of the alley was clear. We had decided that I would drive the cart
until we were clear of the city and that Simon should hide in the
back, under some blankets to avoid being seen. Arriving at the
cart, I climbed up onto the drivers’ bench, laying Duncan in a
wicker basket next to me. Nervously I looked up and down Stonegate
before signaling to Simon that all was clear. Unseen, Simon snuck
through the alley and into the waiting cart on Stonegate. I felt
the cart jolt as he slipped silently into it. Casting a quick,
cursory glance behind me to reassure myself that he was safely
hidden, I clicked the reins and slowly the cart started to roll
along the cobbles. I glanced to my right as we approached the post
house. My heart raced as I heard the rowdy mob of residents and
casual drinkers echo around me. And then I saw what I had been
dreading – I caught a glimmer of copper hair in the streetlamps. He
stepped out in front of Polly, raising his hand, motioning me to
stop. In that moment of panic I considered clicking the reins and
running. However, praying that Simon would stay put in the cart, I
followed simple logic and pulled on the reins, drawing Polly to an
abrupt halt just in front of him.

******

“Are you going somewhere?” my husband's
would-be murderer asked, his voice dangerous and accusing. I
nodded, returning his look with as much confidence as my terrified
state would allow.

“Yes, my son and I are leaving the city.” I
nodded at the basket on the bench next to me.

“And what makes you think I will let you
leave alive?” he spat; his voice veiled with threat. I opened my
mouth to reply, but my mouth was too dry to speak. His blue eyes
never left me, glowing like the eyes of the devil’s cat, they
delighted in my fear. Shivering, I pulled my cloak tighter around
my neck. He grinned up at me, patting Polly roughly. She neighed
and lifted her head, sensing the tension.

“I have no reason to suppose you will let me
live,” I replied defiantly.

He frowned thoughtfully, his eyes scanning
past me toward the cart.

I twisted the reins nervously in my hands;
watching, waiting, for that moment when I would have to make the
decision whether to run or concede. If that moment were to come, I
had no doubt that I would attempt to escape. We had fought too long
and too hard to lose now.

“That is a heavy load you have there,” he
paused, moving his eyes back to meet mine. “And where is it that
you think you are going?” he demanded.

“South,” I lied, lowering my lids in the hope
of avoiding detection. Out of the corner of my eyes I saw his head
nod, slowly.

“Aye, I had heard you two were headed to
London.” His smile broke into a yellow-toothed grin. “I have no use
for you tonight. Be gone woman and make sure I never have occasion
to meet with you again.”

Not waiting for further encouragement, I
tightened the reins and clicked loudly as Polly began to move
slowly down Stonegate. The cart behind me clanked awkwardly over
the cobbles as I guided the horse steadily through the city and
toward the gates to the north. My heart raced and my hands shook as
we moved through the arch and onto the open road. Only then did I
dare the briefest glance behind me. A quick flick of the reins and
we broke into a canter, the cart bobbed and rolled clumsily as we
raced further and further away from the bright lights. I had no
idea how far we traveled before I finally pulled Polly to a halt.
Lulled by the roll of the cart, Duncan had slept through the entire
journey. I glanced over at the wicker basket and watched his little
chest rise and fall. Reassured of his safety I turned my attention
to the back of the cart, where Simon was still hidden under a
mountain of blankets. “Simon, it’s safe, we are away from the
city,” I whispered, and then wondered why I had bothered to
whisper. The night was black; blacker than I had seen since we had
arrived in York and the road on which we had stopped was deserted.
There had been no real need or reason for whispering.

“Bloody Hell Corran, you don’t half drive a
rough cart,” he said, rubbing his back as he walked around to join
me on the driver’s bench. “Go on then, shift up, I will take the
reins from here.”

“You think you could have done any better
then?” I shouted, annoyed at his criticism of my driving
skills.

“You said it yourself, this is an old cart
and you knew full well that it would be a rough ride.”

“I was starting to think I would have been
better to take my chances with Angus than stay hunched up in the
back of that cart for much longer,” he continued, ignoring my
quips.

“Angus!” I said, astonished. “You never said
his name before.”

“Aye, Angus is the vile Red Coat with whom I
have the misfortune to share blood,” he paused, taking the reins
from me. “Mind, I would rather shed his blood just now, than share
it.”

“Do you think he believed me, I mean when I
said that I was headed for London?”

“Aye, I should imagine he did. He thinks me
dead and if he had any doubts he would not have let you go Corran.
Angus is no fool, but in this case he doesn’t realize just what he
was dealing with.” He turned and kissed me gently on my forehead.
“Thank you Corran, you did well tonight.” The cart started to roll
behind us as Polly moved slowly forwards. “But I think we should
take the rest of the journey a little slower, this poor horse will
not last the night if we continue to drive her so hard.” He teased,
as I reached my hand across and rested it lightly on his thigh. “Do
you have any idea where we should go?” I asked, curious to know if
Simon had any plan outside of our exit from York.

“Aye, that I do,” he replied simply.

I waited, but there was nothing but silence
between us. “Are you planning on sharing them with me?” I said,
growing annoyed. He smiled, knowing his silence had irritated
me.

“That I will Corran but only when I have them
fixed in my own head.” It was obvious by his tone that he had no
intention of sharing his thoughts with me this night and I felt too
exhausted to push the matter any further. Instead I settled on
moving my hand from his leg and sternly folding my arms in
exaggerated disapproval. His only response was to fix the reins
firmly in his right hand and move his left hand gently onto my
thigh. It was the appearance of Duncan’s little blond head popping
up from the wicker basket that finally broke the tension between
us. I bent over and gently lifted the little boy, wrapping him
snugly in his blanket, up onto my lap. “Hello little man,” I
whispered, drawing him tightly against me, “Mummy and daddy are
taking you on an adventure and it is going to be so exciting,” I
continued, trying to reassure him. He rested his head heavily
against my chest and I wrapped my arms protectively around him.
“Simon, the sun will be up soon and the horse needs a rest, water
and food. We will have to stop soon.” He nodded in agreement.

“I was just thinking the same, and wee Duncan
will need something to eat and drink too.”

“You know, Simon, we can’t drive the cart all
night then sleep all day. Who will watch Duncan while we
sleep?”

“We won’t travel through the night. We will
make our journeys cautiously in daylight and sleep at night until
we are well clear of York.”

The sun was just starting to rise in the
early morning sky and I could just make out the shadow of his
face.

“I thought it would be like it was before
when we fled from the glen.”

He shook his head. “No Corran, why would it
need to be?” He did not wait for me to reply. “Those that matter
think me dead; and those that don’t, won’t think anything strange
about a family traveling with a rickety old cart. We will be
fine.”

He was right; we had little to fear, aside
from the usual obstacles that came with long travel in the middle
of winter. We were unlikely to attract the attention of anyone. We
were just a family heading north and our cart certainly didn’t make
us appear wealthy enough to be of interest.

“Just now though, I don’t see any inns, so I
think today we will need to rest, water and feed the horse on the
road. Tonight we will sleep in the cart and then travel by day and
if we are lucky we will find an inn by nightfall.” Duncan wriggled
in my arms and I patted him gently, singing softly to settle him
until Simon was ready to stop. Simon stretched his arm across and
rubbed the little boy’s head. “Hang on in there wee Duncan, I will
get you some food and a warm fire very soon.”

“Simon, do you have any idea where we
are?”

The corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he
raised his eyebrows in jest. “Do you not?” he teased.

“You know damn well I have no idea where we
are, or I wouldn’t have had need to ask,” I said.

“Right now, Corran, we are headed west.”

“West?” I replied in surprise. “Why are we
going west? I thought we were heading north?”

“And we shall head north very soon, only I
want to look someone up in Harrogate first.”

“Oh! Who do you need to look up?”

“No one that you will know Corran,” he
answered, in that tone I had come to learn meant that the
discussion was over. “However, that is a while off yet,” he
continued. “Duncan needs some food and this horse needs some rest,
so right now I shall concentrate on providing just that.”