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They entered the busy tapper room to find the inn keeper and request a room for the night. The only room they had proved small and cramped, but it would have to do. A bath and change of clothes were in order before they went down for supper. John would eat and sleep in the stables.
Ewan and Freya came down and sat in the only vacant table at a corner of the noisy place. Her son’s mood had not improved during the trip. He continued too silent and seemingly uncaring to what happened around him. This began to worry his mother. The boy usually had a sunny disposition and let little bother him for too long. She feared the events of the last few weeks were taking its toll on him. She only hoped it did not signalise worse developments.
Her hazel eyes surveyed her surroundings. Not far from their table, sat a group of six, three men, an elderly lady, and a mother and a child of about five. Apparently, they took the same mail coach to Aberdeen, and talked cheerfully about the day’s trip.
“I hope Mrs Wilson will have the time to write to us about her adventure over the Atlantic.” The elderly lady was saying. “Travelling accounts are so en vogue these days.”
The speaker had a cut-glass English accent, though she must be petit-noblesse if she did not afford her own carriage for the trip. But this was not what made Freya sharpen her ears. The fact mother and girl headed to Aberdeen for a ship over the Atlantic did.
“Aye, me lady.” Answered Mrs Wilson. “Though ye will need to be patient for me to find the time to write.” She drank from her ale. “My Sandy here needs care, ye know.”
The loud group moved on to another topic, but Freya’s mind whirled. A plan designed in her head though it sounded crazy even to her.
A mother and a child—a girl—en route to take a ship to the other side of the Atlantic. What if Freya used them as a decoy for the lackey on their heels to follow instead? She had not seen the accomplice as they arrived here, but surely, he hid in the vicinity ready to track them tomorrow.
It took longer for Ewan to accept to eat properly. By the time they finished, the tapper room had become nearly empty. Upstairs, she put Ewan to sleep, and returned down to talk to John. To ask him to discover about Mrs Wilson’s room. He would come up to watch over Ewan after that.
If she convinced mother and child to travel with John, she had the money to tempt her into it. This would free her to follow her own way. She would think about how she would do it after she talked to Mrs Wi
lson.
With soft steps on the creaking floorboards of the upper floor, she reached the room John had indicated to her, and rasped carefully.
The chamber opened to a Mrs Wilson in nightdress. Behind her, on the bed, a girl slept.
“Good evening, my name is Abby.” She lied. “May I talk to you?”
The plump, short woman looked suspicious at her. “What would that be?”
“I would like to make you an offer.” Freya stated, noticing the woman’s attire did not show her to be with comfortable means. Money would play a part here.
“What kind of offer?” She asked, looking Freya up and down.
“Might I come in?” The woman’s eyes narrowed as long minutes passed before she gave way to Freya.
A small table and two narrow chairs sat in the corner. Both women took their places by it.
“Mrs Wilson.” She started. “I heard they call you that at supper.”
“Aye.” She said simply.
“And you are taking the ship to cross to America? Is this right?”
“Aye, me husband left three years ago, and I am to follow now that he managed to buy a plot of land in Nova Scotia.”
The information supplied even better probabilities, Freya thought optimistically. “It so happens I was headed there, too.” She would keep as close as possible to the truth. “But I changed my mind, you see. It is so daunting, this long trip.”
“True enough.” The woman agreed. She looked young, too young for such an uprooting. “Me husband were a tenant in the north, but our Laird decided to graze sheep.” Her blue eyes became sad. “The factories in England are greedy fer wool.”
Freya understood it. Though the McKendricks and the McDougals resisted bravely the trend, she suspected Ross intended to do exactly this. Evict the tenants and use the land for sheep, forcing people to uproot from their birthplace of generations. “It is unfortunate, indeed.”
“I got a position as a maid, but he got nothing.” Her eyes moistened. “So he scrapped all we had, bought a passage and left this country.”
“I will lend you my horse and footman to travel to Aberdeen, Mrs Wilson.” She put in a direct way.
“Why would ye do that? Ye would need them to go back.” The smart woman questioned.
“I will take the mail coach.” She lied. “I can give you money enough to travel first class.”
