Rumors Among the Heather (19 page)

“No, I can’t put you
in any more jeopardy than I already have. I have a change of
clothes stored in an old barn outside of town. I’ll go there now
and change. You can come back later and get the dress. I must leave
as quickly as possible. It’ll be daylight soon.” She looked at the
sky.

“I’ll go with ye to
the barn and see ye off.” Julie started to protest, but he shook
his head at her. “Tut, tut, I’ll hear no more. My mind’s made up,”
he said with a wave of his hand, putting an end to Julie’s unspoken
protest.

Ribble and Julie
walked hurriedly on until they reached the abandoned barn beside
the trackway which Julie planned to follow over the mountain. She
slipped silently into the old rundown barn. Once inside, Ribble
kept a lookout while Julie changed in one of the stalls.

When she finished
dressing, she cleared her throat and said, “You can turn around
now. How do I look?”

Ribble turned around
and blinked and looked again. Julie had pulled back her mass of
curls with a ribbon. She had on the clothes of a ten or
twelve-year-old farm boy. Her breasts were bound, and a long coat
covered where the trousers clung to her hips. She pulled her cap
over her eyes and began to strut around the room in the manner of a
young boy.

“What do you think?
Will I pass?” Julie asked, a smile playing at her lips. She knew
the answer to her question from the look on Ribble’s face.

“’Tis madness, lass.
’Tis true enough ye could pass for a lad, but a man is bound to
find ye out. I can’t let ye go. Ye could go by coach. No one would
know ye dressed as a lad.”

“We’ve been over this
too many times. I have to go. You knew I planned to go before this
happened. Nothing has changed. I can’t stay here, and this is the
best way to do it. I have many miles to go. I must leave at once.
Besides, the coach will be the first place Geoffrey would check.
No, thank you. Going over the mountain is my best bet.”

“But where will ye go,
what will ye do, and have ye thought of money?”

“Yes, I’ve thought of
money. I’m not a complete ninny. I’ve been saving all I could, but
I won’t need much money for my trip. Last market day I bought an
old horse. I paid one of the village boys to feed and water him for
me. He’s hidden a little way down the road. It looks like something
a farm boy would have, so I won’t draw attention to myself. Despite
his looks, he’s strong and will carry me as far as I need to go.
Tell everyone I caught the mail coach this morning. Let the staff
think I’ve been called away because an aunt is dying and wants to
talk to me. Here’s a letter for you to deliver to Geoffrey. It’ll
explain why I left so suddenly. Have it delivered tomorrow. Mercy,
it’s already tomorrow. I mean this evening.”

“But where will ye go?
What’ll ye do? Best I come with you.”

“I’m not sure where
yet. I might go to my aunt. She used to send us Christmas presents
and lives near Aberdeen in Stonehaven. If she doesn’t take me in, I
have enough money until I can get on my feet. Don’t worry about me.
I can take care of myself,” Julie said, trying to put on a brave
front for Ribble.

“What’s your aunt’s
name? I might have heard of her,” Ribble asked.

“Lady Catherine Blair.
If something else presents itself, I may not go to her. My pride
forbids me to go to my aunt, but I see nothing else I can do,”
Julie said.

Ribble insisted on
walking down to where she had left the horse tethered. Julie
mounted. “Wish me well, Ribble. This is the last I shall see of
you.”

“Letting ye go sticks
like grit in me craw, lass. I’ll ask ye once more to stay. It ain’t
safe for ye to go so far alone. I told you about those friends of
mind. They would take ye in no questions asked. A woman by herself,
unprotected, anything could happen.” Ribble scratched his head. “I
cannae believe he would treat you so shamelessly. He is a wild one
for sure, but he’s not mean-spirited.”

“After everything that
has happened… Besides, you know the reasons why I have to go. Papa
always said to quit beating a dead horse,” Julie said with a hint
of irritation in her voice.

“I suppose there’s no
way to stop ye then. Lean over and let me fix yer hair ribbon more
like a lad’s,” Ribble said with a twinkle in his eye. “I hate to do
this to ye, lass, but I think it’s for the best.”

Julie turned her head
to see what he was talking about and fell into the dark abyss of
unconsciousness.

* * *

Julie came to and
found Ribble watching her. Gingerly, she touched her jaw with her
bound hands and looked in disbelief at Ribble, who sat across from
her.

“Let that be a lesson
to ye. Never trust anyone. Especially harmless old men,” he said
with a chuckle. He reached over to her. “I’m going to take the gag
off ye, but if ye start in to screamin’ yer head off, then I’ll
have to clap her back on. Ye ken?”

Julie slowly nodded
her head. As soon as the gag came away, she lashed out at him. He
just barely brought his hand back with all fingers intact.

Ribble laughed. “Dog
my cats, if ye ain’t a wildcat. Even so, no more of that, lass.” He
scratched his head and said, “I don’t think there’s another like
ye. Yes, sir, I think ye’ll do.”

He handed Julie some
water in a tin cup. She held it in her bound hands and brought it
up to her mouth, but her gaze never left Ribble.

“I’m not going to turn
ye over to Hamilton, if it’s what ye think.” Julie’s body relaxed
involuntarily. “No, I’d never, but I couldn’t let ye go off by
yerself. Yer a tricky one and I know ye’d take off the moment my
back’s turned, so I had to bind ye. I’ll not hesitate to put yer
gag back in place if ye give me cause.”

“Where are you taking
me?” Julie ground out.

“Some place safe. I’ll
have to think on it for a while. A friend of mind’s got a fishing
boat just a little ways more down the coast. He’ll take us north
and to the island. Won’t anybody see us. Come nightfall, I’ll cross
over and stash ye some place safe.”

“You’re just
prolonging my journey. I can’t stay. Let me go. Please,” Julie said
with a break in her voice and tears starting to course down her
cheeks.

“Ye’re wasting yer
time with them tears, lass. I ain’t letting ye loose and that’s
that,” he said. He dusted his hands and stood up to put a log on
the fire. “I would’ve done the same, if’n I was ye. Ye air a
caution, that’s for sure. So full of piss and vinegar, ye almost
make me wish I was young again. Heh, heh! Ye’d certainly give a man
a race for his money.”

Ribble hobbled Julie
and settled back against an old oak tree to rest. Julie glared at
the sleeping man before searching the area for a stick or a rock to
throw at him, but grass and weeds were all she could find. She
chafed at her ropes, but they would not give. She sat, stewing in
her own juices, and cursed Ribble. She teared up again but she knew
it would be a waste of tears. He would do with her what he thought
prudent, and she might as well save her strength for the ordeals to
come. She would pick her battles.

Matthew and Ian took a
circuitous route down alleys and through hedges to the beach. Once
there, they uncovered the boat, and together began dragging it out
to sea. The tide had already ebbed, forcing them to push and pull
the boat several hundred yards before reaching water deep enough
for the conveyance to float. Exhausted, they fell more than stepped
into the boat.

Matthew wrapped his
hands around the oars. He grimaced, looking at his bruised hands as
he began to row. His aching palms sent shivers of pain up his arms
when he pulled against the force of the water, but he was thankful
it was not worse. When they were a good distance from shore, he
checked the direction of the wind, but the wind that had brought
his rescuers into shore had vanished, and the sail could not be
used. Matthew picked up the oars again and once more put his back
into an unequal resistance to the strong current of the cold
Atlantic moving against him.

His strength sapped by
his treatment in prison, he fought off cramps and fatigue. To rest
for even a short time would be unthinkable. At any moment, the
king’s navy could overtake them or blow them out of the water. His
life and Ian’s depended on his endurance. Just as the sun began to
appear on the horizon, they rounded the tip of the island and came
ashore into a small sheltered cove known as Smugglers Cove by the
islanders.

Matthew pulled the
boat onto the sand and almost threw Ian out just as they beached.
“Run like you’ve never run before. You must be in the castle before
anyone misses you. Go, lad, don’t stop for anything!”

Ian took off in a run,
stopping only long enough to wave good-bye. Matthew watched the
small figure disappear from sight. Although grateful, he wondered
what Ribble could have been thinking to put the boy in so much
danger, but what was done was done.

He wiped out any
footprints left by Ian. Then he secured the black sail around the
boat and pulled a plug from its hull. He watched as it sank
silently to the bottom without notice save for a few air bubbles
that found their way to the surface. Wrapped in black, it looked
like any other huge rock at the edge of the ocean.

Satisfied with his
work, he turned his thoughts to climbing the cliff behind him. He
tried not to leave any footprints in the sand or disturb anything.
He made his way from rock to rock up the cliff face until he
reached the cave.

This particular cave
he knew well. As a boy, he and his brother Michael had fought many
make-believe battles and dreamed fantastic dreams here, but never
once had he thought this same cave would be his refuge from his own
countrymen. Climbing steadily, he wondered if Michael would have
risked everything for Prince Charles.

Cautiously, he stepped
inside. As his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, he began to feel
his way around the hole in the earth that would be his new home. He
had no doubt everything had been readied for him. He could always
depend on Ribble, who knew what needed to be done and did it
without being told. Matthew employed him, but the man had proven
his friendship many times over. Of his many acquaintances, there
were few he could count on as he did Ribble.

Matthew stumbled over
his broadsword, dirk, extra clothes, and his great coat lying
beside a pallet on the earth floor. He sank onto the hard makeshift
bed. It felt like a feather bed to his abused body, and he quickly
closed his eyes in an effort to sleep. Only a short time ago, he
had been bitterly resigned to the hangman’s noose. His future did
not appear much brighter, but he had hope, and he was free, but for
how long? As sleep drifted closer, his tense, tired muscles began
to relax. His last thoughts were of Julie’s proud, haunting face
dancing in front of him.

Several hours later,
he jerked awake. It was late afternoon by the waning rays of the
sun outside his cavern. He reached out and felt the cool damp
earth, and his fingers sought the sharp edge of the dirk beside
him.

With an effort, he
stood up and stretched. Feeling more alive after his rest, he began
to take an account of his own injuries. Although his eyes still
carried some swelling, his vision was not as blurred. Movement
caused him pain, but he did not think anything felt broken.

Slowly, he fumbled his
way to the entrance of the cave and began his search for candles or
a torch or something to help him find his way. Patiently, he
searched for and found the cache. He lit a candle and began to
inspect his new home, careful to stay away from the entrance to the
cave. He realized he could not burn a candle at night, but during
the day, if he were careful, his candle would go unnoticed.

Matthew also
discovered a supply of hardtack, cheese, wine, fruit, and water. He
sat down and began to eat. For some reason, food had never tasted
better or the wine more smooth. Sated, he let sleep overtake him
again.

* * *

Julie and Ribble lay
in the hold of a fishing vessel that tossed them carelessly from
side to side. Ribble’s friends had taken them on board without any
questions asked. They seem to accept it as the normal thing for
Ribble to bring a bound and gagged woman dressed as a boy aboard
their vessel. They placed Julie underneath several lengths of
fishing net. She’d fallen asleep only to awake to the rocking of
the boat and the inevitable aroma of fish past and present.

The odor grew more
intense as the day wore on and the sun waxed hotter, but Ribble did
not seem to mind. He sat down close to Julie and closed his eyes in
sleep. He stayed that way until the sun started to set. After
leaving for a short time, he returned, picked her up and carried
her to the top deck where he lowered her into a long boat. Julie
looked around, trying to get her bearings. She could see they were
moving toward an island.

The silent, grim-faced
men rowed them to shore and waited until they stepped safely onto
solid ground before quietly pushing off. Ribble placed Julie across
his shoulder and started the long climb up jagged cliffs. He
handled her as easily as if she were of no more account than a sack
of potatoes. He did not stop or draw a long breath until they
reached the top. Once there he set her down and rested. After no
more than five minutes, he picked her up again and began walking at
a fast pace across the island. He kept to the shadows and out of
sight.

Sometime later, Ribble
navigated another steep incline. She held her breath and shifted
helplessly on his shoulder, suspended precariously between heaven
and earth, perched on a fulcrum. Her eyes searched for some
landmark to tell her where they were. With growing dread, it dawned
on her where he was taking her. In a panic, she began to squirm. He
lowered her to the ground and looked her in the eye.