"Take one of the maids with you."
"Nay.'Twillonly take a moment."
Outside, Calla casually strolled by the guards and toward the dressmaker's. Once she'd passed them, she glanced around, noting the guards had their eyes on the door to the inn, then she rushed to the livery stable where she was to meet the messenger. He had once worked for her late husband and was still loyal, though she was certain he needed the work, too.
Upon seeing the tall, lanky man with graying hair, she relaxed. His worn brown breeches and doublet were nondescript.
"There you are, Hobbs. I thank you for agreeing to do this for me."
He bowed. "Lady Stanbury. Always glad to be of service."
She drew the small pouch of coins from the pocket she'd sown into her skirts. She opened the drawstring pouch, took out two silver coins and placed them into his hand. "Those are for you." She pulled the string tight again and gave him the whole pouch. "You ken where this is to be delivered."
He nodded and tipped his hat. "Aye, m'lady. A good day to you, then."
"Same time next week?" she asked. "Or mayhap a bit earlier in the morn? Wait for me."
Hobbs nodded and mounted his horse.
'Twasa shame that she was still paying off her husband's gambling debts five months after his death. But 'twas either give up her meager wages to the fiendish Claybourne or he would make her work off the debt in the worst way possible. She cringed, nausea gripping her stomach.
***
Robert "Rebbie"MacInnis, the Earl of Rebbinglen, rode towardDraughonCastle with his plaid flying. He grinned, wondering what his friend, Lachlan MacGrath-Drummagan, the Earl ofDraughon, would say about his fine Highland garb which he'd grown to love. While staying inDurnesswith their friend, Dirk, Rebbie had taken to wearing a belted plaid more often. He was, after all, a Highlander, though because he'd spent much of his time in the Lowlands, England, or on the continent, he did not always dress as such. When he'd needed new clothing inDurness, plaids were far more plentiful than breeches ortrews, and he found he loved the sense of freedom a plaid gave him.
"Wait,m'laird!"
Rebbie glanced back along the muddy, rutted coach road, green bushes encroaching on either side, to see his manservant, George Sweeny, trying to keep up on the smaller horse, while he led the pack horse carryingRebbie'sbelongings. Rebbie slowed his mount to give George time to catch up. It had taken them a fortnight to travel fromDurnessto Perth. Fortunately, most of his journey had been by galley.
Soon, massive iron gates and high stone walls loomed before him, and beyond them, the impressiveDraughonCastle with its four round towers. He drew up and his spirited black stallion reared. "Whoa, Devil!"
"That be you, Laird Rebbinglen?" the guard called down from the gate house.
"Aye."
"I hardly recognize you in all that plaid."
"Ha." Rebbie grinned.
When the gates opened, Rebbie and George proceeded through. In the stone-paved courtyard, they dismounted. Rebbie handed the reins to George, then sprinted up the keep's front steps. The two guards on either side of the door bowed. "Laird Rebbinglen," they greeted, while one opened the door. Aye, they remembered him from his stay here last autumn.
Upon entering the two-story great hall, he paused until his eyes adjusted to the dimness, lit here and there by candles.
"Rebbie?" Lachlan's voice echoed from the other end of the huge room. "Welcome." His fair-haired friend met him in the middle of the great hall, shook his hand and gave him a rough, back-slapping embrace. "'Tisgood to see you again, my friend."
"Likewise. Married life appears to be agreeing with you." Aye, his friend looked as fit and happy as the last time he'd seen him.
Lachlan's grin widened. "Angelique and I have a wee new daughter. She's the loveliest angel you'll ever set eyes upon."
Rebbie smiled at his friend's obvious delight. "I'm certain she is. Congratulations."
Lachlan's gaze dropped toRebbie'sbelted plaid, much like his own, and he laughed. "What the devil are you wearing? I've never seen you wear abreacan-an-fheilidh."
"Does it suit me?"
"Aye. Finally, you're a Highlander, as you've always claimed to be. Do I have Dirk to thank for this?"
"'Haps. Or maybe 'twas the cold weather up north."
