the window. “Be careful.”
“I’ll be back at midnight.”
So he could be Brody. And make love to her. Maeve smiled to herself as an eagle swooped out the window.
* * *
“Now let me see you tie them up,” Nevis told Elam and Hannah, and the two children kneeled beside Lobby and Tommy and tied their hands and feet with strips of linen.
Nevis checked their knots. “Excellent.”
Elam grinned at Hannah. “We did it!”
She nodded. “This is much more exciting than making it rain.”
Nevis cut loose the bindings on Tommy and Lobby, who had volunteered to play the role of unconscious guards. “How are you two doing?”
“We’re fine,” Tommy assured him. “All we have to do is lie here.” When Lobby snored, Tommy chuckled. “He keeps dozing off.”
Nevis stifled a grin. The two old men were exhausted after sailing all the way to the Isle of Moon and back last night.
This morning, while coming up with a strategy to eliminate the guards, Nevis had soon realized he couldn’t kill them in front of the children. And he certainly couldn’t instruct the children to kill them. So now the plan was to simply knock out the guards, then tie them up and gag them.
He’d spent most of the day with Elinor in the blacksmith shop, devising their master plan. Tommy had cleared his worktable, and Elinor had used paper and ink to draw a map of the castle grounds and location of the guardhouse. Then she’d illustrated the plan, so the children could understand what they were expected to do.
This evening after dinner, Nevis had taught the children how to properly tie up their prisoners. They were practicing now on their volunteers, Tommy and Lobby. Bettina lit some lanterns as the sky darkened, while Catriona, Naomi, and Olana were busy ripping sheets into strips. They would need enough to tie up thirty guards.
Quentin grabbed a few strips. “Is it my turn now?”
Nevis shook his head. “Tommy and Lobby will be taking everyone under the age of ten to our boat—”
“That’s not fair,” Quentin grumbled. “I showed you where the guards live. You can’t make me leave!”
Nevis regarded the nine-year-old boy. He seemed much more eager to participate in their battle than ten-year-old Peter. “This will be dangerous. You could be hurt.”
“So?” Quentin lifted his chin in defiance. “I’ve been working in the smithy since I was five. I know how to be careful.”
“The lad is a good worker,” Tommy said, giving the boy a wry look. “When he isn’t running off somewhere.”
Quentin hung his head. “I just get tired of being cooped up all the time.” He glanced up shyly at Nevis. “I feel bad about snitching on Maeve. I want to help. Please.”
Nevis gave him a stern look. “I’m in charge of our group. Do you pledge to follow my orders to the letter?”
“Aye, Colonel!” Quentin saluted. “Can I stay?”
Nevis narrowed his eyes. “Yes, you may, soldier.”
“Yea!” Quentin bounced around, grinning. “This is going to be so—”
“Quiet, soldier,” Nevis growled, and Quentin halted, slapping a hand over his mouth.
Elinor smiled as she set down her pen. “Shouldn’t we have a name for our group?”
Catriona snorted. “Something like the Undesirables?”
“Or the Rejects?” Elam grumbled.
“No, something strong and positive.” Nevis strode to the worktable, seeking inspiration from the plans Elinor had drawn. A spider crawled onto one of her pages, and he slammed a hand down so hard everyone jumped.
“What?” Lobby sputtered, waking up. “What was that?”
“Sorry,” Nevis muttered. “I hate spiders.”
“Spiders!” Quentin shouted.
“Yes.” Nevis wiped his hand on his breeches. “I didn’t want it getting on—”
“No, we can be the Spiders,” Quentin said. “We’ll be fast and sneaky and spin our webs to trap all the guards.”
Nevis glanced at all the children, who were nodding their heads and smiling. “Is that what you want?”
While the children cheered, Elinor tapped her fingers on the worktable. “Spiders?”
Nevis stepped closer to her. “We can use something else if you don’t like it.”
“Nay, ’tis brilliant!” She smiled at him. “I’ve been struggling to come up with an idea to make the guards leave their house. I thought about drawing some sort of scary creature that could come alive, but I have no colored paints with me. Just black ink.” She opened the bottle of ink. “Spiders will be perfect.”
“But will they be scary enough?” Nevis asked.
Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she unfolded some large pieces of paper. “Giant spiders.”
“Awesome!” Quentin shouted, and the children cheered.
Frowning, Bettina slipped out the wide doorway.
“Is something wrong?” Elinor whispered to Catriona.
She