BooksBarbecue
Back The Darkest Shore Save as PDF
Chapters (76)
  1. Cover
  2. About the Author
  3. Also by Karen Brooks
  4. Title Page
  5. Dedication
  6. EXPLANATORY NOTE
  7. PART ONE
  8. One
  9. Two
  10. Three
  11. Four
  12. Five
  13. Six
  14. Seven
  15. Eight
  16. Nine
  17. Ten
  18. Eleven
  19. Twelve
  20. Thirteen
  21. Fourteen
  22. Fifteen
  23. Sixteen
  24. Seventeen
  25. Eighteen
  26. Nineteen
  27. Twenty
  28. Twenty-One
  29. Twenty-Two
  30. Twenty-Three
  31. Twenty-Four
  32. Twenty-Five
  33. Twenty-Six
  34. Twenty-Seven
  35. Twenty-Eight
  36. PART TWO
  37. Twenty-Nine
  38. Thirty
  39. Thirty-One
  40. Thirty-Two
  41. Thirty-Three
  42. Thirty-Four
  43. Thirty-Five
  44. PART THREE
  45. Thirty-Six
  46. Thirty-Seven
  47. Thirty-Eight
  48. Thirty-Nine
  49. Forty
  50. Forty-One
  51. Forty-Two
  52. Forty-Three
  53. Forty-Four
  54. Forty-Five
  55. Forty-Six
  56. Forty-Seven
  57. Forty-Eight
  58. Forty-Nine
  59. Fifty
  60. Fifty-One
  61. Fifty-Two
  62. PART FOUR
  63. Fifty-Three
  64. Fifty-Four
  65. Fifty-Five
  66. Fifty-Six
  67. Fifty-Seven
  68. Fifty-Eight
  69. Fifty-Nine
  70. Sixty
  71. Sixty-One
  72. Epilogue: Autumn 1706
  73. AUTHOR’S NOTE
  74. GLOSSARY
  75. LIST OF CHARACTERS
  76. ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

Sorcha leaned her head against Nettie’s shoulder. ‘After I tell the others what we know, I’ll head down to the shore and start work as usual. That way, no one will suspect anything.’

Nettie kissed the top of Sorcha’s head. ‘Shall we compose this letter to the high and mighty lairds, then?’

‘Aye. And pray that this time, at least, God is on our side.’

They knocked their cups together again and finished the contents, sharing a secret and, for the first time in months, a triumphant smile.

Fifty-Nine

FIFTY-NINE

image

Mackerel skies an’ mare’s tails,
Man’ suckle ships take’ little sails.

(Dark blue-grey skies or long wispy clouds foretell wind.)

The storm abated slightly as the night went on, introducing in its stead a heavy fall of snow. Dressing in the dark a few hours later, Sorcha made sure she wore plenty of layers. She donned her coat, wrapped a neepyin tightly around her head, and waited as Nettie threw on her coat and mittens.

Whirls of snowflakes spiralled in the air. Through the window, Sorcha could see how the moon shone upon the white-covered ground, creating an almost ethereal light. With a last glance at Nettie, she gave a nod and opened the door. The air was glacial, striking her face and ploughing her lungs. Shutting the door quietly behind them, the women held hands and trudged through the snow.

Out of the corner of her eye Sorcha saw a shadow keeping pace on the other side of the road. Her heart leapt into her throat until she realised it was Mrs Lentrow’s moggie Bait, probably out hunting mice. She silently wished her happy hunting as they passed the Mercat Cross and the junction.

Uncertain what it was that made them turn down Cove Wynd, a reckless streak perhaps, they glanced up at the silent Tolbooth, its closed windows like hollow eyes peering down at them. The kirk was silent, too. Only the manse had a pale glow from somewhere deep inside, and Sorcha wondered whether the reverend was up, praying to be forgiven for his many sins. More likely it was his put-upon housekeeper, rising early to have a chance of completing her chores.

Down by the waterfront, the women whispered farewells and shared a swift embrace. Tucked inside Nettie’s coat was their letter, which she promised to mail from Anster that very day. Sorcha remained where she was until Nettie was all but swallowed by the darkness, then turned and headed towards Beatrix’s house. She thought it only fair Mr Brown learn what they knew first.