“What happened, then?” Grif demanded.
“Lockhart returned just after ye left,” Hugh said with a smile, anticipating Grif’s question. “He wanted yer head on a platter, he did.” He laughed and looked at Miss Brody. “And he’d no’ take no for an answer,” he added with another laugh, and even Miss Brody smiled.
He went on to tell them that Keara had been out that afternoon, to see her brother, and Hugh wouldn’t leave Dalkeith House or London, not without explaining to her what had happened and giving her a week’s wages. But Hugh felt uncomfortable in his grandmother’s house—he claimed to have had a very strange feeling about it, as if he were being watched. So he moved the horses to the public stables, along with his bag, and returned to Dalkeith House under the cloak of darkness.
It was that which saved them, he reckoned.
He waited for Keara in the kitchen, in a darkened house, and when she returned, he told her what had happened. He’d just provided her wages when they heard several voices on the floor above them. They quickly hid in an old, unused larder, listening as the men made their way to the kitchen. It was Lockhart, returned with a constable and his men to search the mansion for Grif, cursing the fact that he’d apparently escaped.
The men were in the kitchen, not a foot away from Hugh and Keara, when the constable assured Lockhart that Grif would indeed hang were they to find him.
It was all Hugh and Keara needed to hear, and fearing for their lives, the moment the men left the kitchen they escaped the house via a window, ran to the public stables, and rode out of London in the night.
“But… why didn’t you seek refuge with your brother?” Anna asked Keara.
She exchanged a look with Hugh. “He was angry with me, me brother Kevin. He didna think I was bringing him all me wages,” she said softly. “He’d threatened me when I’d gone to him that afternoon, and I was afraid to return for fear he’d beat me.”
Anna reached across the table to take Keara’s hand.
“So then…” Grif said, looking at Hugh, “ye and Miss Brody came to Gretna Green. And I suppose ye made yer own call to the smithy—”
“Keara and I will go our separate ways when the beastie is sold,” Hugh interrupted, looking at Keara. “I’ve promised her half of what I receive so that she may go home to Ireland, as she desires, to her family.”
“Aye,” Keara said, shifting her gaze to Grif. “I’ll return to Ireland just as soon as I am able. I’ve sisters and brothers who need me.”
“So we shall toast our escape, then, aye?” Hugh lightly suggested, sliding his arm across the back of Keara’s chair. “No’ a one of us left our head in London after all.”
“Aye,” Grif said. “That’s worthy of a toast.” He poured four tots of whiskey. “Slainte mhath!”
As the four of them drank to their collective health, the innkeeper pushed aside the drapes and announced grandly, “On this happy occasion, milord, I’ve a Highland roast beef for yer wedding supper!” Two women carried in heavy trays, and the smell of the Highland beef was enough to make them swoon with pleasure.
They celebrated with dinner and whiskey, laughing at the tales of their flight from London, and toasting Grif and Anna’s happiness over and again.
When the food had been taken away, Grif glanced at Anna. He could see the flush of a bit of whiskey in her cheeks, the sated look in her eye. He put his hand on her knee and squeezed it, gave his thanks to Hugh and Keara for a wedding celebration they would not otherwise have had, and putting his hand on Anna’s elbow, he helped her up.
“Just a moment more, lad,” Hugh urged him. “Let us see to it that all is at the ready for ye,” he said, and hurried Keara along with him, quitting the private room.
“Come, lass,” Grif said gently, putting his arm around Anna’s waist. “’Tis time I took me wife to her wedding bed,” he murmured, and kissed her cheek.
“Mmm,” she said dreamily, and allowed him to languidly lead her from the private room, across the common room, pausing briefly to thank Ealasaid and her father, and up the stairs, to the room at the end of the corridor where Hugh was standing, grinning proudly.
“’Tis all as we’d hoped. Mind ye have a care with her,” he said, and threw open the door to the room.
Anna gasped. It was filled with flowers, Scottish primrose and bluebell. A fire roared at the hearth, a pair of candles blazed on either side of the bed, and primroses blanketed the bedcover.
“How?” Anna asked, clearly taken aback by the room.
“I’m a Highlander. And now I’ll take me leave— Keara is waiting,” Hugh said, and with that he clapped Grif on the shoulder and sauntered down the corridor and the stairs, disappearing into the common room below.
Grif laughed softly. “Bloody sentimental fool.”
“It’s beautiful,” Anna said softly.