big couldn’t just erode away. People would have to tear it down and carry the stones away. But why?
She moved more carefully as she neared the light of the gate torches, but the two guards manning the wall there were facing outward. A grid covered the wide opening, and on the inside, giant doors stood open. Apparently, they weren’t expecting an attack. Too bad they didn’t realize it was going to come from within.
Off to the left, there was a staircase that led to the top of the wall. What could she do, climb up there and explain things, then ask them to lift the gate and let her out? Oh, and leave it open until the killer left too? Wouldn’t they be a little suspicious when she described the guy as being dressed just like her? Jeans and black coat?
Yeah, she needed a better plan. And she couldn’t just wait around for something to come to her. She moved silently until she was next to the stairs, then plastered herself flat against it, in the shadows, while she figured out what to do.
Come on, Jules. Think!
If it had been the twenty-first century, she could just pass herself off as Lady Ross, and they’d do what she told them.
A woman’s scream rang out from the inner bailey, maybe the castle itself. Had the hitter gotten free? Had he killed someone?
“Go!” a man shouted from somewhere above her. Then fast footsteps on the stairs. Then more muffled strides as a man struck out across the dirt and grass toward the castle.
One man left. Or at least, she thought it was only one.
Her only hope was to sway one man into helping her. She just hoped she had a good idea by the time she got up the steps because she couldn’t waste any more time.
She ran to the end of the staircase and started up. The stairs were suddenly well-lit. The problem was, a man was standing at the top holding a torch, looking right at her. He glanced in the direction of the other guard, probably wondering if he should call him back, so she distracted him.
“Hello!” She smiled and gave a little wave.
He didn’t wave back, but she had his attention. She knew the moment he realized she was wearing pants, because he caught his breath. As she made her way up the stairs and stepped onto the wall walk, he moved back and rested his butt against the battlements. She figured he didn’t think a woman—even a woman in pants—was much of a threat. He set the torch in a ring, folded his arms and smirked at her, like some club bouncer who wasn’t going to let her in.
“And just where do ye suppose ye’re goin’, lass?”
“I’m just coming to pay my penalty,” she said, hoping her accent wasn’t too horrible. But Ewan hadn’t had any trouble understanding her.
“Oh, aye? And what penalty might that be?”
She looked out over the wall, to gage how far she’d have to run to reach her precious hillside, but she saw only darkness. She would have the distance of at least a road before the beginning of the slope. The man followed her gaze and tensed, pushing himself away from the wall.
“Who be ye?” He looked toward the castle, then back at her.
“I’m just visiting. With the Muir sisters,” she said coyly.
He froze and his eyes bulged for a second.
“Oh, I’m not one of them,” she said, and he looked relieved to hear it. “But I did lose a wager. And my penalty is to find a guard and give him a Glasgow Kiss.”
By the guy’s reaction, she could tell he didn’t know what she meant, that he assumed a kiss was just a kiss. She looked down the wall walk, to where another torch was perched against the stone. She saw no guard there. Maybe all of them weren’t manned. The sentry followed her line of sight.
She gave her best impression of a pout. “But if you’d like me to find another man, I can—”
He was already shaking his head. “Och, nay. There’s none on this wall with me tonight that would be worth the kissin’, lassie. Ye’re right lucky ye found me first.”
He stepped up to her. She looked behind her, to make sure she wasn’t too close to the edge, since there was no railing of any kind. The man grabbed her arm gently, like he was promising to keep her from falling.