Page 78 of Captured by a Laird
Alison herded her daughters down the stairs. They were nearly to the bottom when Beatrix tugged at her hand.
“I have my wooden horse,” she said, holding up the carving David had made for her, “but Margaret forgot her pig. I’ll run back and fetch it for her.”
“Nay—”
“My piggy!” Margaret wailed, her eyes going wide with panic. “I can’t go without my piggy!”
The girls had carried the carvings with them everywhere since David made them. Recognizing that she would lose this battle, Alison dropped to one knee and put her arm around Margaret.
“All right, your sister will get your pig,” she said, then turned to Beatrix. “We’ll wait here, but hurry.”
Alison wanted to be gone and back as quickly as possible. Anxiety thrummed through her as she waited for Beatrix, who was dallying. When she finally returned with the carving, her hands were covered with soot.
“I couldn’t help it,” Beatrix said. “Her pig was behind one of the chairs by the hearth.”
The men in the hall were beginning to stir. Alison kept her head down as they passed through, hoping no one would ask where they were going so early. She hated to lie, and she was poor at it as well. When they stepped outside into the cold air, she drew in a deep breath.
The stable lad looked surprised when she asked him to saddle her horse and the girls’ ponies, but he did as she bade him. The guards would be more difficult.
But luck was on her side. The two warriors who stood by the gate were young. One had carrot-red hair and freckles, and the other was making a courageous attempt to grow a beard.
“Good morn to ye, Lady Alison,” the red-haired guard said, dipping his head. “May I ask where you’re going?”
“I’m taking my daughters for a short ride before breakfast,” Alison said, giving them a bright smile. “After all the damp weather we’ve had, it would be a shame to waste such a lovely morning.”
The guards exchanged uneasy glances.
“I don’t like it,” she heard the red-haired guard whisper.
“But what can we do?” the one with the weedy beard whispered back.
“Open the gate, please,” Alison called out.
“I’m not certain Laird Wedderburn would approve,” the red-haired guard said. “Let me take your horses back to the stable for ye, and you lasses can enjoy the morning with a stroll around the courtyard.”
“I don’t want to disappoint my daughters,” she said, waving her hand toward the girls on their ponies. When that did not appear to sway them, she put her hand on her hip. “Did the laird tell ye to bar the gate against me?”
“Nay,” the redhead admitted, “but that doesn’t mean he’d want us to let ye ride off.”
“I am the lady of the castle and your laird’s wife,” Alison said. “He’s spoken to ye about treating me with respect, now hasn’t he?”
“Aye,” the two answered in unison.
This confirmation that David had ordered his men to respect her made her feel all the worse for her deceit.
“We’ll just ride in circles around the castle,” she said, softening her tone.
“I’ll come with ye,” the redhead said.
“No need,” Alison said, knowing full well they would be tired after standing duty all night. “Ye can watch us from the tower if ye like, but we’ll be close enough to shout for help if we need it.”
With obvious reluctance, the young guards opened the gate wide enough for them to ride their horses through. Alison led the girls around the castle twice, waving at the two guards each time they passed the gate.
“We’re changing guards soon,” the guard with the weedy beard called to her on their third time around.
“One more time round, and we’ll come in,” she called back.
When she and her daughters reached the back side of the castle, it took only a few moments to gallop across the open field and slip away under the cover of the trees along the river. Alison felt guilty about fooling the young guards. Hopefully, this meeting with her uncle would not take long, and she and the girls would return before their absence caused any worry.
