stifled his immediate urge to leap off the wagon and stared hard at Ian, willing the lad not to speak. He didn’t, just goggled back with his eyes bulging out of his head and his face pale, as though he’d seen a ghost, and walked past, speechless.
“Jesus,” Jamie murmured under his breath, realizing. “He thinks he has seen my fetch.”
“Who thinks what?” asked the driver, though without much interest.
“I think I must get down here, sir, if ye’d be so civil as to stop? Aye, thanks.” Without thought of his back, he swung down off the wagon; it twinged, but there was no warning stab of pain down his leg—and if there had been, he would still have gone up the road as fast as he could, because he saw a small figure a little way ahead, running like a rabbit with its tail on fire. The figure was plainly female, it was accompanied by a large dog, and he had the sudden thought that it might be Rachel Hunter.
It was, and he just managed to catch her up, seizing her by the arm as she ran, petticoats kirtled up in her arms and feet hammering the dust.
“Come with me, lass,” he said urgently, grabbed her round the waist, and pulled her off the road. She uttered a stifled shriek—and then a much louder one, when she looked up and saw his face.
“No, I’m not dead,” he said hurriedly. “Later, aye? Step back on the road wi’ me now, or someone’s going to come see am I raping ye in the bushes. Ciamar a tha thu, a choin?” he added to Rollo, who was sniffing him industriously.
She made an odd gargling noise in her throat and continued to stare, but after an instant blinked and nodded and they were back on the road. Jamie smiled and acknowledged a man who had stopped in the middle of the road, dropping the handles of a barrow he was trundling. The man looked suspiciously at them, but Rachel, after a moment’s stunned bewilderment, waved at him with a ghastly smile, and he shrugged and picked up his barrow.
“Wh-what—” she croaked. She looked as though she might collapse or vomit, chest heaving and her face going scarlet and white and scarlet again. She’d lost her cap, and her dark hair was matted with sweat and sticking to her face.
“Later,” he said again, but gently. “What’s happened to Ian? Where are they taking him?”
Between wrenching gasps, she told him what had happened.
“A mh’ic an diabhail,” he said softly, and wondered for a split second what—or who—he meant by that. The thought vanished, though, as he looked up the road. Perhaps a quarter mile back, he could see the large, slow-moving knot of evacuees, a sprawling mass of slow wagons and trudging people, with the neat scarlet columns of soldiers splitting to flow round them, coming on now four abreast.
“Aye, then,” he said grimly, and touched Rachel’s shoulder. “Dinna fash, lassie. Get your breath and go back after Ian, but dinna get close enough that the soldiers take notice of ye. When he’s free, tell him the two of ye must come back to the city straightaway. Go to the printshop. Oh—and best leash the hound wi’ your sash. Ye dinna want him to eat anyone.”
“Free? But what—what are you going to do?” She’d got the hair out of her eyes and was calmer, though the whites of her eyes still showed all round. She reminded him of a young badger at bay, baring its teeth in panic, and the thought made him smile a little.
“I mean to have a word with my son,” he said, and, leaving her, strode purposefully up the road.
HE MADE OUT William at a considerable distance. The young man was standing at the side of the road, bare-headed, disheveled, and slightly battered, but evidently attempting to look collected; his hands were folded behind his back, and he appeared to be counting the wagons that passed him. He was alone, and Jamie hastened his step to reach the lad before anyone came along to talk to him; he needed privacy for his own conversation.
He was reasonably sure Rachel hadn’t told him everything about the recent stramash and wondered whether she herself had been partly the cause of it. She had said the trouble began just after she’d told William about her betrothal to Ian. Her account had been slightly confused overall, but he’d got the gist of it well enough, and his