"The manure wagon?"
"Aye. I'll drive it out beyond the portcullis toward the fields, where they use the moldering horse dung to enrich the soil for their crops."
She blew out a sharp breath. What the devil had she gotten herself into?
"Forget it then," he said with a dismissive shrug. "I was only trying to help you."
"All right." It appeared she had no other choice. She huffed and crawled onto the wheelbarrow while he held it steady.
"Lie down and draw your legs up close to your chest," he whispered. When she did, he threw the oiled, blackened canvas over her and tucked it around her.
"Grant!" O'Quigley yelled from the stables' entrance. "What are you doing?"
