“Where the devil do you think yer going in leather breeches?” Gavin Elliot demanded.
Douglas shrugged a shoulder. “They’re much easier to ride in than skirts.”
“That doesn’t answer my question. Yer very secretive these days.”
“Rubbish!” She smoothed the plaits she had pinned into a coronet. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I’m talking about the letter you got from Mother. If yer going to join her at Court, you won’t be able to cavort about in breeches.”
“Damn you to hellfire, Gavin Elliot! How dare you read my letter?”
“We’ll have no secrets from each other.”
“In that case, you can tell me how much you got for the thoroughbreds.”
“What thoroughbreds?”
Douglas laughed. “Now who’s being secretive? If I do decide to go to Court, I’ll need some of that money you got for an elegant new wardrobe.”
Gavin winked. “Come to think of it, you should wear breeches more often. They cost less than fancy frocks, and they’re ideal if you plan on helping with the lambing.”
Douglas pulled on a warm doublet. “I’m just going to have a look at the new lambs now. Then I’ll ride along the river before the afternoon sun is gone. The banks of the Esk are thick with blue forget-me-nots.”
Rob Elliot came clattering down the stone steps that led from the castle ramparts.
“Riders! Two dozen!”
Before his warning was out, they heard the thunder of hooves in the castle bailey.
“Christ, you should have spotted them half-an-hour back.” Gavin strode to the window. “English! I recognize Cumberland’s livery.”
“God Almighty, what’ll we do?” Rob cried.
“Keep yer gob shut,” Gavin ordered.
A servant came into the castle hall with two dozen troopers behind him. Without hesitation Gavin spoke to the trooper who looked to be in charge. “Afternoon, gentlemen. You have business at Castle Elliot?”
“We have arrest warrants for the Elliot brothers.” Greystoke’s lieutenant brandished a fistful of papers.
“On what charges?” Gavin demanded.
“Raiding English horses and selling them in Langholm.”
Gavin squared his jaw. “Where’s yer proof?”
“Sim Armstrong sold you out. We have him under arrest in Carlisle Castle. I have warrants here for four Elliot brothers.”
“You are mistaken. Armstrong is lying. There are onlythreeElliot brothers.”
“All Scots lie, so save your breath. I have warrants for Gavin, Jock, Rob, and Douglas.”
“I am Douglas Elliot.” She stepped forward and raised her chin.
The lieutenant’s eyes narrowed. “Lying won’t save your brother Douglas.”
“We have no brother by that name,” Gavin declared. “Douglas is our sister. Are ye accusing her of raiding English horses? On the word of afirkingArmstrong?”
“I have a warrant for Douglas Elliot. It matters not if he’s male or female. Arrest the girl,” he ordered his men.
