Amanda Scott Read Online Free PDF Page A

might easily have learned what name she had given brought a surge of dismay.
    Feeling trapped, she racked her brain, trying to think what to do. She could not turn tail and run. That much was certain, for there was no easy way off the islet. The current between it and the shore flowed swiftly whenever the tides were running, and although she could swim, she was not a strong enough swimmer to make such an attempt other than foolhardy. The ferryman would not take her either, she was sure, even if she were to confess her true identity. Loyalty or not, he had made it clear the night before that he thought any female going into the woods at night was a fool. He would never allow the daughter of his late chieftain to do so.
    Glancing at the doorway, she saw with relief that Calder was still talking to Patrick and seemed to take no more interest in her. When his servant departed toward the upper regions and Patrick shouted to one of the other maids to bring them supper at a table by the fire, Diana breathed more easily. Calder had not looked her way again. If he had not recognized her, even if he were to learn about Allan Breck’s escape, he would have no cause to wonder at her presence unless through some incredible mischance Patrick Campbell mentioned her name and Calder both recognized and remembered it.
    Careful not to look at him again, she moved about, collecting empty platters for the scullions to clean. Then, by finding a string of tasks to do in the scullery, she managed to stay out of Calder’s sight for the next half hour, and when she returned to the hall, he and Patrick Campbell had gone elsewhere. Feeling lighter of heart, she turned her mind again to escape. With Calder near at hand, she dared not wait until her half day. That much was certain.
    Diana would not have felt nearly so relieved had she known that Rory had been surreptitiously watching her the entire time she remained in the hall. Though generally skilled at judging others, he felt mystified by her. His first sense of relief at seeing for himself that she had not starved as a result of her banishment from Edinburgh Castle had vanished when Patrick told him that the notorious Jacobite Allan Breck had escaped. Concealing his feelings then had taken every ounce of a considerable skill developed over the past two years in the Barons’ courtroom. He did not trouble to hide his displeasure from Patrick, however, once the two men retired to that gentleman’s private chamber to relax by the fire with their brandy.
    “You’re angry,” Patrick said, eyeing him warily. “I don’t blame you, and I shudder to think what Argyll will say, not to mention Cumberland. Thank heaven the latter is in London,” he added, referring to the royal duke who had wreaked havoc in the Highlands after the rebellion of 1745.
    Keeping his tone flat, Rory said, “Cumberland’s absence from Scotland is of little consolation just now.”
    “Well, if the English did not keep pressing us to ferret out the few remaining rebels and punish them, I think the troubles would soon ease, Rory. As it is, pockets of discontent remain to plague us. In Appin, Macleans and Stewarts respond to any pressure to yield by standing their ground more firmly. Ardsheal still rules here as if he were in Scotland, rather than exiled in France with the other rebel lairds.”
    “He is able to do so,” Rory said pointedly, “because until recently you have allowed his most active courier to move about wherever and whenever he wishes.”
    “That’s not fair,” Patrick said, his tone that of the schoolmate he once he had been, rather than that of a dutiful subordinate. He flushed, adding quickly, “I don’t mean any disrespect—”
    “I know you don’t. How did Breck get out of the tower cell?”
    “Damned if I know.” When Rory shot him a skeptical look, Patrick shrugged. “Oh, I can tell you he managed to remove two bars from the window and tie a rope to the other two. I can also tell you that