Chapter Eighteen“Here we are.”
By the time the carriage stopped, I had the beginnings of a headache and was heartily sick of being thrown about like a leaf in a storm. I emerged to a familiar building for we had arrived at Esk House in Inveresk, the house where Hugh Beaton had heard my version of Matthew's story. “Does Hugh's cousin not own this property?”
“He does.” Mr Carmichael stood at the carriage door to let us out. Although he looked tired and was spattered with mud kicked up by the horse's hooves, he was as erect as a guardsman.
“Will Hugh's nameless cousin give us sanctuary?” I knew that the hard face of the messenger would haunt my nightmares for a long time to come.
“Yes,” Mr Carmichael responded with a smile. “I am Hugh's cousin. This house belongs to me.”
“Oh,” I helped M
