Midnight Honor

too, she could not recall being bruised.
    The maid helped her up and guided her into the huge copper tub that had been hauled in front of the fire. The shock of the hot water startled Anne into looking around and slowly coming to realize she was safe. At least she was away from the death and the blood, and she was not alone any longer.
    The steam and the heat and the smell of soap being rubbed into her hair restored her a little more, and by the time she had been rinsed and left to soak, she was able to hold a cup ofhot broth to her lips without dribbling half of it down her chin.
    Lady Drummuir left for brief moments at a time, but always came back to sit by the hearth. It was obvious she was aching with questions, but she did not ask anything of Anne other than to inquire if she wanted more broth.
    After three bolstering cups Anne felt well enough—and warm enough—to climb out of the tub and sit by the fire. Wrapped in a thick woolen dressing gown, she sat dutifully still while the maid brushed her hair dry and twined it into a thick braid.
    “Thank you,” she said. She glanced up from the hot flames and looked at the dowager. “I don't know what happened back there. I don't even remember how I got here.”
    “Ye were in shock, lass. I'm no' surprised. There have been men coming to the door, bringing the news before they flee.”
    Anne just looked at her, and waited.
    “The soldiers are on their way to Inverness. They're no more than a mile down the road.”
    “I have to get to Moy Hall,” Anne said, setting her cup aside. “The men will need help. Have you had any news of the prince?”
    “He's away safe. They're taking him to Ruthven. Are ye sure ye want to ride out in this, lass? It might be better ye stay here. There are rooms below the stairs that the soldiers would never find in a hundred years—ye could hide there until it was safer to go out.”
    Anne shook her head. “I feel much better now. I can almost think clearly. The men will go to Moy Hall, and I must know how they fared. With John and Gillies gone … they will not know what to do.”
    Her voice trailed away and the dowager clutched the crucifix she wore around her throat. “Gillies is gone too?”
    Anne nodded and had to press her lips very tightly together for a moment. “I did not see Eneas or the twins, so perhaps they escaped. Lord George was commanding the rear guard, protecting the retreat, but there were so many who scattered into the woods and across the fields; it will take several days to know who survived and who did not.”
    Lady Drummuir rose slowly and walked to the window.
    “Did ye see Fearchar?”
    “Not for but a moment this morning. I told him to stay away from the moor, but—”
    “Aye, he takes to orders as well as you do,” the dowager said on a soft sigh. “If ye're that set on ridin' to Moy today, ye'd best go now, then, while the way is still clear. Follow the river road out to the east bridge and make a wide turn south. I'll send a couple of the lads with ye, well armed, just in case.”
    “What about you? What will you do?”
    “Me? Och, dinna worry about me, lass. I've had one prince under ma roof an' I survived it. I'll likely have another strutting through the rooms before the day is out, an' I'll survive that as well. In truth, it should be the wee toady himself who should worry about me. I'm no' above poisoning his soup if he galls me.”
    “You'll look after MacGillivray?” Anne asked quietly.
    “They willna find him. He'll have a proper Christian burial ere I draw ma last breath.”
    “I would like to see him before I leave.”
    The dowager touched her cheek. “Get yerself dressed, lass. I'll wait below. An' no trews an' plaids for you either,” she warned. “Wear yer best ridin' suit. The more lace at yer throat, the less likely the soldiers are to think ye've just come from a battlefield.”
    Anne descended the stairs ten minutes later, an elegantly clad young woman in a blue velvet riding habit with founts of lace at the throat and cuffs.
    The dowager nodded her approval and led the way down into the wine cellar. There, after manipulating a hidden catch behind one of the tall wooden racks, the entire section of shelving swung open and, holding a glass lamp over her head, she took Anne through, cautioning her to watch her step as they went down a flight of shallow stone stairs.
    Anne had heard rumors of smuggling ventures in the dowager's family history, but she had never been in