Wolf, Joan Read Online Free PDF

good-bye to her father was easier. They were all on horseback in the courtyard—there was no way to get a carriage through the mountains—when Alasdair came out to bid his daughter farewell.
    After issuing a few more instructions to Niall and to Alan Ruadh, he turned to Van. "Beannachd Leat," he said. "Blessings go with you, my daughter."
    "Thank you, Father."
    "Remember all I said yesterday."
    "Yes, Father."
    He nodded and Niall wheeled his pony and started out of the courtyard. Van's pony followed close behind. She looked up at the brightening sky as they started down the path and thought, with a flash of wry amusement, that her parents had given her totally contradictory admonitions.

    They went through the mountains to Fort William, one of the great forts built by General Wade to pacify the Highlands after the last rising. From Fort William they went south and east, through mountain passes and across river ferries, stopping overnight at the house of a MacDonald who was a friend of Lord Morar's. They left the mountains the following day, coming through Stirling, with its great castle guarding the gateway to the Highlands, past Bannockburn, where a MacIan had fought with Robert the Bruce for Scotland's independence, across the Forth and into Edinburgh, ancient capital of Scotland and once home to the Stuart kings.
    In Edinburgh Niall saw to the transfer of Van's baggage from the pack ponies to the coach Lord Morar had hired for the trip to London. They stayed overnight with a cousin of her father's and there met the middle-aged widow who was to chaperon Van. The widow, Mrs. Robertson, was an Englishwoman who had been visiting relatives in Edinburgh and who was delighted by the prospect of a free trip home. The two women were to ride in the coach, with Alan and his two sons riding escort on horseback.
    Niall kissed his sister before he handed her up into the coach.
    "You look splendid; Van," he said with genuine admiration. "That new outfit makes you look a regular lady of fashion. You'll be the most beautiful girl in London."
    Van glanced down at her traveling dress of deep green velvet. The material had come from France, but it had been made by one of the castle seamstresses.
    "I wish you were coming with me, Niall," she said impulsively.
    He grinned at her engagingly. "You are very well able to take care of yourself, my sister. Only—do you not forget Alan."
    "I am not likely to forget any of you," Van replied austerely. She was a little irritated. It seemed to her that her father and Niall were taking far too much for granted about Alan.
    "Up with you, then," Niall said cheerfully, and handed her into the carriage, closing the door behind her.
    "You have your pistol, Alan?" he asked his father's foster brother.
    "Aye." Alan the Red, who was now more like Alan the Gray, unearthed a weapon from the folds of his plaid and showed it to Niall.
    "Good. But keep it hidden unless you need-to use it. I don't have to remind you that the clans are supposedly disarmed."
    "I will remember, Son of Alasdair. And we will guard the Lady Van with our lives."
    Niall nodded and stepped back. The coachman slapped his reins and the team moved off. Van sat back and tried to get comfortable. It was a long way from Edinburgh to Kent in the south of England.

    It was a week, in fact, before Van reached Staplehurst, principal seat of the Earls of Linton. The trip south had been tedious and uncomfortable but uneventful. They changed horses regularly at posting houses on the Great North Road and stayed overnight in a series of inns designed to accommodate travelers such as themselves. Alan and his sons, dressed in their tartan trews and great swathing plaids, created a stir wherever they stopped, but nothing occurred to provoke Alan to use his pistol.
    They finally arrived at Staplehurst late in the afternoon of March 20. The setting sun lent a warm glow to the great golden stone house as they came up the drive. It was not the house, however, but