And so she had been. So she was.
There was also love for her in this house with her father and his new wife here in Edinburgh, and there was Jamie every evening, given that his days were taken up now with his studies at the grammar school of Mr. Skene.
She met him in the street outside the school, as was their custom. It was only a few minutes after seven, so they’d have an hour at least to make their own, and being early summer, it was bright.
Jamie stretched. He’d grown taller than her by the breadth of a hand and could now look straight over her head, but his fair hair was just as unkempt and his grin was as ready and cheerful as ever.
“You’re lucky to be a girl.”
“Why?”
“Mr. Skene doesn’t teach girls.”
There weren’t many schools that did teach girls, and those few that did charged a fee Lily’s father could not afford, so she would have to make do with the learning she’d had from the Moray girls at Abercairney. Besides, she had plenty of work at home to keep her occupied. Still, she was envious, sometimes, of Jamie. She’d liked reading, and there were no books at all in her father’s house.
Jamie asked, “What will we do? Will we look for your cat?”
Lily nodded. She’d first spotted the black-and-white kitten three days ago and had been worrying since for its welfare. She had searched for it, but Edinburgh had not been built upon a simple plan—it was a labyrinth of wynds and closes twisting off the broader streets and narrowing to falls of steps that disappeared in shadows, overhung by painted tenements with galleries and watching windows crowding close together overhead.
Although she’d lived here nearly two full years, she’d still not learned the name of every street and winding passage, but her father, who had knowledge of them all, strictly forbad her to take some of them by daylight, and by night they all were barred to her if she was on her own.
“Ye’re of an age now where some men will take advantage of ye, Lily, should they catch ye in a corner,” he had warned. Being only nine, she’d felt the need to ask him what it meant to “take advantage,” whereupon her father had, for help, looked to his wife, who’d said, “They’ll try to put a baby in ye,” and since Lily hadn’t wanted that, she had kept clear of all the places she’d been ordered to avoid.
But having Jamie at her side gave her the freedom to go anywhere, not only because she was not alone, but because everybody knew his father was the captain of the town guard.
They could, if they wanted, go down past the Netherbow, past all the houses of merchants and craftsmen and, farther still, past the grand houses and gardens and right to the palace of Holyrood. Or they could walk up the other way, up past the menacing Tolbooth and past the tall spire of St. Giles’s and on into the Landmarket and up the hill to the castle, where sometimes they’d look for the secret way in through the walls Jamie once overheard someone speaking of.
Today, though, they kept to Carrubber’s Close, where Lily had glimpsed the black-and-white kitten this morning.
“She was there,” Lily said, pointing. “Under the stones.”
Jamie bent to look. “How d’ye ken it’s a she?”
“I just do.”
“Well, she’s not there now.”
All down one side of the close they searched, carefully, and up the other, until Lily finally saw two tiny pointed ears poking up over the rim of a bucket. The bucket was, thankfully, empty of water or anything less pleasant, and it held only the kitten, who cowered inside upon Lily’s approach.
Jamie said, “Ye’ll get scratched.”
“I will not.” And she didn’t. The kitten came easily into her hands, in the end, with a few coaxing words and a gentling touch. There seemed no weight at all to the creature as Lily drew her apron up to wrap the folds of cloth around the kitten.
As she straightened, there were footsteps on the cobblestones behind them and a shadow fell across them all.
The shadow of a man, who said, “What’s this, now? Theft? And with the sun yet up?”
Jamie was unconcerned. He did not bother turning round, but told his father, “Lily’s found a cat.”
Lily did turn. She had no fear of Captain Graeme.
She’d always thought him taller than her father, until recently she’d seen them standing side by side and realized that for all her life her mind had played a trick on her—that it was something in the way the captain moved, or held himself, that made him seem the larger man. She guessed that quality was why they’d put him in command.