amount of time, she could be anywhere in London.
Caledonia paused as she glanced around the streets of London. The afternoon crowd that bustled in between the large buildings was fairly thick. None of them should recognize her or Jamie.
With her brother’s hand held tightly in hers, she wended her way north toward an inn where she remembered stopping on her way into London. The keeper had owned a stable with horses to be bought. If she could get to those horses, she would buy one for each of them with the money she had managed to hide from Henry. He’d had no idea when he’d taken her that she’d possessed a small fortune in her bodice.
Once they were safely away from the inn, they would don the robes of a leper and no one, not even thieves, would dare stop them then.
They would be home in no time.
“Are we to walk all the way home?” Jamie asked.
Callie smiled. “Just a little farther, sweeting.”
“But my legs are so tired, Callie. Can we not stop for a rest? Just a little one? A minute or two before my legs fall off and then I’ll never be able to run again.”
She didn’t dare stop. Not when they were so close to leaving this place behind.
Lifting Jamie up in her arms, she held him to her side and continued on. “Och, lad, you’ve gotten heavy,” she said as she skirted women carrying baskets of market goods. “Why, I remember when you scarce weighed as much as a loaf of bread.”
“Did Da sing to me then?”
Callie’s heart clenched at his question. Poor Jamie barely remembered their father, who had died almost three years ago. “Aye,” she said, squeezing him. “He sang to you every night when your mother would put you to bed.”
“Was he a big man like Dermot?”
Callie smiled at the mention of their brother. Atten-and-six, Dermot stood a good three inches taller than she. “Bigger than Dermot.” Indeed, her father was closer to Lord Sin’s height.
“Do you think he’ll be happy to see my mother while he’s in heaven with yours?”
Callie arched a brow at the odd question. “Mercy, imp, wherever do you think up these questions?”
“Well, I was just wondering. One of the king’s knights told me that poor servants can’t go to heaven, only noble people can. I was thinking then that God wouldn’t want my mother there with yours.”
Callie took a deep breath at the nonsense. Her mother may have been of royal blood and Jamie’s mother a simple shepherdess, but only a fool would spout off such rampant stupidity. And to a wee bairn, no less.
“He was being mean to you, Jamie. God loves all people equally. Your mother is a good soul who loves us, and the Lord in His mercy will see her in heaven along with the rest of us when, God forbid, she dies.”
“Well, what—”
“Jamie, please,” she begged. “I’m needing every breath to carry you. Please, no more questions.”
“Very well.” He wrapped his thin arms around her neck and laid his head on her shoulder.
Callie walked on for as long as she could, but after a time her arms and back ached. “Lad, I need for you to walk on your own for a bit.”
Jamie got down and held on to her skirts as they headed along another crowded street.
“How many days do you think it’ll take us to walk through London? A hundred? Two hundred?”
It felt like two thousand. “We’ll get out eventually.Try not to think about that. Think about being home again.”
“Can I think about my mother’s mincemeat tarts?”
“Sure.”
“Can I think about Uncle Aster’s horse?”
“Fine.”
“Can I think—”
“Jamie, my love, can you please think to yourself?”
He heaved a weary sigh, as if the burden of thinking to himself were more than he could bear.
Callie pulled him to a stop as she spied a group of mounted knights riding through the city. She let go of Jamie’s hand to pull her veil around her face in case they should glance her way.
Laughing, the mounted knights paid no heed to her. But it wasn’t until they
Caledonia paused as she glanced around the streets of London. The afternoon crowd that bustled in between the large buildings was fairly thick. None of them should recognize her or Jamie.
With her brother’s hand held tightly in hers, she wended her way north toward an inn where she remembered stopping on her way into London. The keeper had owned a stable with horses to be bought. If she could get to those horses, she would buy one for each of them with the money she had managed to hide from Henry. He’d had no idea when he’d taken her that she’d possessed a small fortune in her bodice.
Once they were safely away from the inn, they would don the robes of a leper and no one, not even thieves, would dare stop them then.
They would be home in no time.
“Are we to walk all the way home?” Jamie asked.
Callie smiled. “Just a little farther, sweeting.”
“But my legs are so tired, Callie. Can we not stop for a rest? Just a little one? A minute or two before my legs fall off and then I’ll never be able to run again.”
She didn’t dare stop. Not when they were so close to leaving this place behind.
Lifting Jamie up in her arms, she held him to her side and continued on. “Och, lad, you’ve gotten heavy,” she said as she skirted women carrying baskets of market goods. “Why, I remember when you scarce weighed as much as a loaf of bread.”
“Did Da sing to me then?”
Callie’s heart clenched at his question. Poor Jamie barely remembered their father, who had died almost three years ago. “Aye,” she said, squeezing him. “He sang to you every night when your mother would put you to bed.”
“Was he a big man like Dermot?”
Callie smiled at the mention of their brother. Atten-and-six, Dermot stood a good three inches taller than she. “Bigger than Dermot.” Indeed, her father was closer to Lord Sin’s height.
“Do you think he’ll be happy to see my mother while he’s in heaven with yours?”
Callie arched a brow at the odd question. “Mercy, imp, wherever do you think up these questions?”
“Well, I was just wondering. One of the king’s knights told me that poor servants can’t go to heaven, only noble people can. I was thinking then that God wouldn’t want my mother there with yours.”
Callie took a deep breath at the nonsense. Her mother may have been of royal blood and Jamie’s mother a simple shepherdess, but only a fool would spout off such rampant stupidity. And to a wee bairn, no less.
“He was being mean to you, Jamie. God loves all people equally. Your mother is a good soul who loves us, and the Lord in His mercy will see her in heaven along with the rest of us when, God forbid, she dies.”
“Well, what—”
“Jamie, please,” she begged. “I’m needing every breath to carry you. Please, no more questions.”
“Very well.” He wrapped his thin arms around her neck and laid his head on her shoulder.
Callie walked on for as long as she could, but after a time her arms and back ached. “Lad, I need for you to walk on your own for a bit.”
Jamie got down and held on to her skirts as they headed along another crowded street.
“How many days do you think it’ll take us to walk through London? A hundred? Two hundred?”
It felt like two thousand. “We’ll get out eventually.Try not to think about that. Think about being home again.”
“Can I think about my mother’s mincemeat tarts?”
“Sure.”
“Can I think about Uncle Aster’s horse?”
“Fine.”
“Can I think—”
“Jamie, my love, can you please think to yourself?”
He heaved a weary sigh, as if the burden of thinking to himself were more than he could bear.
Callie pulled him to a stop as she spied a group of mounted knights riding through the city. She let go of Jamie’s hand to pull her veil around her face in case they should glance her way.
Laughing, the mounted knights paid no heed to her. But it wasn’t until they
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