Grabbing her quill, she quickly wrote out—Going to Islington’s home, I know it’s not prudent but I am sure I’ll be safe.
Digging again in her trunk, she pulled out her a kidskin pouch of gold coins, she upended it and counted nearly fifty-five gold coins. A veritable treasure chest for many and she would pay it all for safe passage to Scotland.
Tucking the coins into her inner coat pocket, she took a pin and jabbed it through the pocket flap to keep the coins safe. She grabbed the sack of letters too. With another sack, she shoved two dresses, a rag, a sliver of soap and a towel.
While flicking her hood over her head she looked around the room and a pang of nostalgia took her over. She was leaving all this comfort for a hard road and possibly a harder life. But considering that the comfort she loved had come from a man who had not a speck of integrity inside him she was comfortable in letting it go.
Martha stood and hugged her. “Be safe.”
Her attempt to smile failed. “Thank you, and stay away from this room. Be as busy as you can and when he comes, tell him you don’t know a thing.”
Without preamble, she flicked the cowl up and walked out, ready and willing to leave this life behind. She left with her small package and headed to the stables. She asked the hands to hitch up the carriage and she waited until they did. She alighted and gave the driver directions to take her to Lord Islington’s house.
They passed the gate without any problems and were on the road to the crossing to the main road when the carriage stopped abruptly. She began to fear. What was stopping her now? She reached out for the carriage handle only to have the door yanked open. Her father was there, his brows lowered and his jaw set tight.
“Funny seeing you here,” he said darkly. “Where were you going?”
“To Lord Islington’s,” Adelaine said, forcing herself to not utter those words through clenched teeth.
“And where is that maid of yours?” Her father asked.
Sticking her chin up Adelaine said, “I left her behind for once. She was busy and I felt there was no danger to take the trip by myself.”
“Danger, no,” the Earl replied. “But the making of a scandal, yes. Come out, now.”
“I’d rather not,” she said as she slid the sack further behind her.
&n
bsp; “You misunderstand me,” her father said in an almost growl. “I was not asking you.” Reaching in, he grabbed her hand and all but hauled her out of the carriage seat.
Adelaine stumbled but caught her footing on the rocky ground and looked up to see her father’s state carriage behind him. He was in his thick dark-grey coat with billowed sleeves and thick belt and boots but his scowl was darker than all three. “Are you telling you were going to Islington looking like this? A pauper?”
“There is nothing wrong with this dress,” Adelaine began to argue when her father reached behind her to yank the sack out from the seat.
He opened it and upended it on the ground. “And what pray tell were you carrying these to Islington for?”
“I—” she faltered. “I—”
Her father’s eyes narrowed. “You were taking these to an urchin on Bridewell Palace?”
Adelaine’s lips thinned, “No, I was not.”
“Then you’ve lost your mind,” her father pronounced.
“I assure you I have not,” she defended staunchly.
“Then I have nothing else to say but order you to get back into that carriage and go home,” the Earl directed. “Now, Adelaine.”
Bitterly, she spun and was about to enter the carriage when she heard a man say, “My Lord, the Scot is getting disorderly.”
Scot? What Scot?
“McLagen can get disorderly all he wants but will face the chopping block in two days,” the Earl snapped.
Adelaine ran behind the carriage to see the Scot she loved bound again in irons, shirtless and shoeless, with only his kilt around his waist. Her hands flew to her mouth, stifling the pained cry that nearly left her mouth, while her eyes met his. His face had lines of fatigue but his green orbs were wide and bright.
She backed away from him with jerky steps and spun with horrified eyes back to the carriage. She did not even look at her father who was staring at her with suspicion, pausing only to grab the sack of letters before she jumped into the carriage and slammed the door behind her.