"I think they must be. Last time, some of the men threw large rocks at them to try to knock them off. They didn't budge."
"Thank the saints Claybourne is too daft to realize he created an opening for us."
Lachlan formed a loop in the rope and tied a knot. "Only one way to find out if they're secured." He tossed the looped rope toward a marble statue. On the second try, he snagged it. The rope slid down. "Watch out," he warned those around him, then tugged the rope. The statue held fast.
"I'm going over first," Rebbie said, making certain all his weapons were in place—his sword, dirk, two pistols, and atargeattached to his belt.
Lachlan handed him the rope. "Have a care. There may be guards stationed in the garden. The rest of us will follow."
Rebbie nodded, then climbed the rope, hand over hand, his feet walking up the wall. At the top, he hauled himself onto the crest of the stone wall and cast his gaze over the garden of vegetables, flowers and shrubs. Unless the guards were hiding behind the shrubs, no one waited here. He nodded to Lachlan and gave him the all-clear sign. After pulling the rope over, Rebbie scaled down the other side of the wall, then tossed the rope back across.
How long had Calla been here? It near drove him mad that she hadn't waited for him. He knew 'twas his fault for taking such a long ride to clear his head and get his thoughts straight.
After slipping histargeonto his forearm, and taking his dirk in hand, he raced through the garden, hiding behind bushes.
Footsteps crunching on gravel stopped him cold. He hunched behind a marble statue and waited. Black boots came into his line of vision. Once the guard passed, Rebbie leapt onto his back. They fell to the ground, the guard cursing and thrashing about with his sword. Pinning him to the gravel face down, Rebbie stabbed the dirk into his sword arm. The man screeched.
"Shut your gob," Rebbie said between clenched teeth. "Is Lady Stanbury here?"
"Bastard! I'll kill you! I'll slit your throat, you Highland scum."
Rebbie grabbed the man's long brown hair and yanked, pressing the dirk's blade lightly against the man's throat. "Where is the lady?"
"Inside!"
Rebbie leapt up, intending to bash the man on the back of the head with a stone and knock him out. But the guard twisted and hopped to his feet. He charged Rebbie, a dirk in his left hand.
Rebbie grabbed the man's left arm and, in the ensuing scuffle, stabbed the man in the chest. He cried out, fell backward, then writhed upon the ground.
Lachlan hastened toward him, eyeing the dying man. "You got him."
"I didn't want to kill him." Nor would Rebbie let the man prevent him from finding Calla. He turned and hurried through the garden. Lachlan followed, then both crouched behind a short hedge.
Guards were stationed at each corner of the large manor house, swords in hand. Two were in view.
"How many," Alasdair whispered, slipping up behind them.
Glad to see he'd made it over the wall, Rebbie said, "We only see two at the moment."
"Rebbie and I will take them out. Watch our backs," Lachlan said.
"Aye."
All three men drew their swords and carried their dirks in their left hands behind theirtarges, just as they would in battle.
Rebbie and Lachlan dispatched those two, but not silently. They'd screamed out in pain. Three more guards, who looked more like mercenaries in their black garb and chain mail, charged from the front of the mansion. Alasdair and two more of the men who'd made it over the wall ran into the fray. Blades slashed and clanged.
Blocking the blade flying toward him with histarge, Rebbie stabbed his opponent in the throat, through the vulnerable opening in the armor, then kicked him backward. The man screamed out, and hit the ground, his blood soaking the crushed stone.
Once those three were disabled, Rebbie and the other men charged around the front of the mansion. Two guarded the front door. Too easy, Rebbie thought, grinning like a madman. The two men's eyes widened and their jaws dropped. They screamed like lasses and fled across the courtyard toward the front gates.
What the hell? Rebbie glanced around at the others, then realized what had scared the young guards so badly. Eight plaid-swathed Highlanders stood behind him, brandishing swords, most of them, including Rebbie, spattered with blood.
Wasting no time, Rebbie stormed the large, carved oak front door, gave it three kicks and sent it crashing back against the wall. He raced into the marble-tiled front hall. Seeing no one, he raced up the steps toward the upper floor. Claybourne would no doubt bring her up here, to a bedchamber. The whoreson. Rebbie wanted to butcher the man.
A muffled scream echoed from somewhere in the distance.
"Listen," he hissed to Lachlan and Alasdair, who came up behind him. "I hear her. Check inside these rooms." Rebbie raced to the other end of the corridor.
