“The clan suspects Lyulf was responsible for Nye’s death, and Lyulf was killed in revenge. McGil is under suspicion, but I intend to charge Lady Vanora with complicity.”
Grandfather drained his glass and set it down with a sharp thud. “Doona tell me anymore. I have to maintain impartiality.”
A leaden silence fell over the room. Alana would corner Gavin and ask how he intended to charge Vanora since she wasn’t here. What evidence did he have? She suddenly realized how difficult it would be to convince the clan. None of them would be impartial.
***
The next day, Gavin stood at the staircase landing waiting for Alana, so they could take their place in the receiving line. He looked up and drew in a sharp breath. The gown he’d ordered had arrived in time and was well worth the wait.
As she slowly descended the steps, the light from the wall sconces played on the gown. Of celestial blue silk embroidered with rosebuds and knots of silver twists, the overskirt shimmered over an under gown of misty ivory satin. Mina had arranged her fiery hair into an elaborate coiffure.
He was glad he’d dressed in full regalia and wore the kilt she’d woven for him. His doublet was made of velvet and buttoned with silver, his new sporran was silver mounted, and a silver badge with the Carmichael crest was pinned to his bonnet. He was presentable.
Her hand trembled as he took it. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered in her ear. “All will be well.”
She squeezed his hand and smiled, and they went to the entrance hall where the guests were arriving. Sir Caithness and his wife passed them first. The countess looked magnificent in a silver gown and a headdress decorated with diamond-encrusted ostrich plumes, but to Gavin’s way of thinking, Alana outshone them all.
“Caithness is one of the more prosperous of the neighboring clans,” Gavin explained to Alana. He proceeded to name the guests as they made their bows and curtsies: Urquhart, Tulloch, and Braemar.
All the male guests wore their kilts and colors except Morgan. His coat fitted his broad shoulders and powerful frame to perfection. Beneath it he wore a rich satin waistcoat embroidered with gold thread. The collar of his fine cambric shirt ended in a jabot edged with lace. Black breeches completed his dress.
No man stood out more like a Scots dandy, making him the perfect one to play the pipes.
Among all the brightly colored clansmen, Rory looked understated, though he’d turned out in a superbly tailored coat, skintight breeches, and highly polished boots. As Gavin and Alana joined the guests in the drawing room, they found Rory laughing and slapping the backs of the gentlemen, then spouting effusive compliments to the ladies.
His father wasn’t well enough to join them, but all the guests would pay their respects to the chieftain before they left.
As was to be expected, the ladies gathered in one corner of the room and the gentlemen went to the other. Gavin left Alana with the ladies who were exclaiming over each other’s gowns, and sauntered to his group.
“Gavin, Sir Caithness tells me he was robbed by highwaymen last March.” Rory gestured with the glass he held. “Might he look through those bags and purses you found?”
“Of course. They were taken to a store room, I think. I’ll take you there before you leave.”
“I, too, would like to take a look. Lord Potphere was visting last month, and he was robbed,” Sir Tulloch said.
“Aye, the same happened to my nephew,” Lord Urquhart added.
“Then we’ll all go.”
“Can’t the robbers be found?” Braemar’s heavy brows met in a straight line.
“Not yet, but my men have discovered leads. Rory and I will join the hunt after the assizes.”
“Oh, I don’t envy you that.” Sir Tulloch took a fresh glass of wine from the tray of a footman. “Neither the hunt nor the assizes.”
Sir Angus joined them. “When are we going out to greet the crofters? Better not wait until they’re besotted.”
That was true. The wine and whiskey would flow freely tonight. “I thought we’d wait until the dancing began.” Gavin glanced across the room to where Alana was laughing with the ladies. She’d been accepted by the noblewomen, but the crofters were another matter.
“That reminds me.” Morgan left them abruptly and returned a minute later with his bagpipes.
“I ken skirl as well as any man.” Morgan blasted forth with the pipes while sidestepping over to join an orchestra made up of a pianoforte, cello, and violin.
Everyone stopped to applaud and the dancing began. Gavin took Alana through two sets of a reel before pulling her aside. “We should welcome the crofters before it gets dark.”
He saw her stiffen. “Will Mrs. Kilgarney be here?”
“Likely, but we won’t stay long. Come.”
He swept her outside where the crofters and village people were dancing their own lively reel. They lacked the finesse and mannered deportment of those in the drawing room, but they were clearly enjoying themselves.
Rory waved at them from the tables laden with food. “You’re eating out here?” Gavin asked him.
“I am.” Rory lifted his plate high. “The food’s better out here.”
“The food is the same.” Alana laughed. That was evident. There were racks of lamb and plates of beef and mutton, rabbit pies, chicken, and geese. Platters were piled with tongue, lentils, and grilled trout and salmon. There was even a festive cake made with fruits, fresh eggs, and the precious white sugar.
The dancers had noticed their arrival and gathered around as soon as the music ended.
Gavin went into his welcome speech, reminding them they were celebrating his brother’s return, that Alana was responsible for the feast, then moved into the need for clan loyalty and honor. Words he didn’t wholly believe himself. But his father had taught them to him, so they must be right.
The clan people’s faces remained stoic, but they broke out in polite applause as soon as he ended the speech. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Red McGil coming toward them.
“Go inside, lass,” Gavin whispered in Alana’s ear. “There may be trouble.”
She opened her pretty mouth as if to protest, then gathered her skirts and fled.
Gavin faced the man tottering before him. He was drunk, though it was early in the evening for that. “Hear ye buried that devil from Gilmour Hall.”
“Why would you think Lyulf a devil?” Gavin’s question brought a hush over the crowd.
“He murdered my cousin, Nye McGil, with a rag of Gilmour plaid.”
“Is that why you murdered Lyulf?”
Red rocked back on his heels. “Aye, I admit doing it and taking pleasure in doing it.”
Gasps ran through the crowd. Mrs. Kilgarney stepped forward. “Another plague. Men killing men for no reason. I wouldn’t have believed it, but it keeps happening ever since your lordship married.”
“What are you babbling about, Mrs. Kilgarney?”
Red McGil came between Gavin and Mrs. Kilgarney. “She means we’ve been cursed by that accursed woman ye married.”
Anger like a black wind gusted through Gavin. Apparently Red McGil hadn’t learned his lesson in the kirk, and now Gavin felt no reason to hold himself back.
He balled his fists and pummeled McGil over and over. “How dare you blame my wife for your own evil deed. I’ll see you hang, Red McGil.”
Strong arms gripped him from behind. “Stop it, Gavin.” Rory snarled in his ear. “You won’t have a chance to hang him if you kill him with your bare hands.”
Looking down at the man crumpled on the ground, Gavin came to his senses. He heaved a deep breath. “Take him to the village goal,” he ordered the two guards who stood at the ready.
He swung around and saw her.
Alana, in her beautiful gown, stood apart, her hands clutched in front of her, a stricken look on her face. She turned and fled into the house.
She had heard it all.
Chapter 20
Alana paced the long
hall, nerves stretched ready to snap. The assizes were being held, not at Gilmour, but here behind the closed doors of the drawing room.
Gavin had warned her it might be days, perhaps weeks before judgments were rendered. Every infraction reported for months would be given a hearing.
He’d even suggested she visit Aunt Elspeth, taking guards with her. She couldn’t do that. Something might happen. What if Red McGil was sentenced to death, as was likely? After all, he’d confessed before a large gathering.
But what would the crofters do? They might attack Stonecrest. Start another insurrection.
What would they do about Vanora? She knew Aunt Elspeth had sent Vanora a missive. Could she return before the assizes ended?
The double doors of the drawing room were wide open now, and she watched as participants came in. Her grandfather, wearing a long red velvet and ermine robe and a marvelous powdered wig, had already taken his place as presiding judge.
Despite her trepidation, she couldn’t resist a peep inside. She hardly recognized the room where people had danced just a couple of days before. At the front were places for jurors, witnesses, turnkeys, solicitors, and prosecutors. Behind this area were several rows of seats reserved for the clan lairds who weren’t personally involved but who wished to observe the proceedings. Ordinary spectators filled the rest of the space.
The jury was made up of sober, respectable citizens of the village. After they were seated, she jumped out of the way as turnkeys led a group of prisoners into the dock. The day’s proceedings would begin, but she wanted no part of it. She hung back as the doors closed.
Gavin’s presence was required for the entire session, but Rory had promised to come out and report any significant happenings.
She was sitting with Barthram when they adjourned for luncheon, but as soon as he released her, she continued her pacing in the hall. Rory slipped out and came up to her.
“No need to keep watch, Alana. They just finished with Essa Kerr. None of the others will be tried today.”
With a nod, she watched as a woman was led away by the turnkeys. “What was…what will happen to her?”
“She’ll be stripped and flogged publicly.”
Alana winced. “Now?”
“Aye. I expect half the women of both clans are already gathered to watch.”
Nausea roiled in her stomach. “Tell Gavin I’ve retired to my chambers.” She turned and fled, reaching the chamber pot just in time.
“M’lady, are you all right?” Mina rushed in. “Here, let me get a wet linen.”
Alana sat on the bed as the nausea subsided. She closed her eyes while Mina bathed her face. “Oh, Mina, it’s terrible to watch, and I shouldn’t even go down there, but I canna stay away, though I’m repelled.”
“I feel the same, m’lady. Justice must be meted out, but tis horrible to watch.”
Mina turned to rewet the cloth, but Alana grabbed her arm. “I doona think it was the trial alone that sickened me.”
The maid cast worried eyes on her. “Should I call the physician?”
“No, nothing like that.” Alana bit her lip, trying to find the right words. “I haven’t had a monthly issue since before my marriage. Would you…do you think I might be with child?”
Mina sat beside her, a wide smile on her face. “Oh, m’lady, tis exactly what it must be. Just think, I could be caring for a wee babe again.” Her smile faded. “Are ye not pleased?”
“Yes, of course. It would be the greatest joy of my heart, but I could be wrong. It may only be nerves. Please doona say anything yet.”
“I’ll not say a word, but your face will give you away.” Mina laughed. “Here, let me get you a cup of water.” She swished away in her typical efficient hustle.
Alana touched her flat stomach. Emotions she’d never experienced before assailed her. She wanted to run to Gavin and tell him about this glorious discovery. No, he was too engrossed with the trials. Nothing must distract him, and she might be wrong. She didn’t want to disappoint him.
If she were with child, would they have to delay their voyage to the colonies? If the situation turned violent, they might need to escape, child or no. Would her babe be born in a strange land?
Was Mina right? Would she give herself away? She drew in a deep breath and steeled herself against that possibility.
She needn’t have worried. Gavin noticed nothing different in her, and perversely, that disappointed her.
***
The trials lingered into the next week. On the morning of the tenth day, Alana awoke from a happy dream. She glanced at the empty space beside her. Gavin was up early.
Sounds of shaving drifted through the open communicating door. She noticed a tray on the trunk situated at the end of her bed. Breakfast had already arrived, and by the looks of it, Gavin had already eaten. The sound of splashing water caught her attention, and in moments he appeared in the doorway.
She met his welcoming smile, and in the silence that followed, heard the wind against the windows. It would be a cold day. “Have you eaten?” She asked, pushing herself up against the pillows.
“I have, but I left you plenty.” He brought the tray to set it on the bed beside her. “I suggest the scones.” Without waiting for her approval, he took a butter knife and buttered the pastry. She smiled as he pushed it against her mouth. She took the scone from his hand and savored its sweetness.
When the scone was gone, he caught her hand and lifted it to his lips. He put her sticky finger in his mouth to remove the crusted sugar. The seductive gesture knocked the breath down her windpipe. If only he could stay, but he was already dressed for the day. A day that could bring peace or danger.
He must have thought the same thing. She saw the ardor in his eyes turn to worry. “Does Aunt Elspeth testify today?” she asked.
“Aye, it’ll be a difficult time for her…and for us all. You’ll be praying for me?”
Surprised at his request, she took his hand in both her own. “Of course. All day. Who’s to be tried today?”
“Red McGil, and if he’s found guilty, he’ll be hanged immediately to prevent an uprising. At least, that’s the hope.” Dread was evident in his voice. “Then Matt Kerr will be brought in the dock. I’m going to try my best to save him.”
“Why?”
“I don’t think he’s guilty. I’ll use his charges to implicate Vanora. After that, I’ll call on Mrs. Kilgarney and Dr. Paul.”
“What might happen?”
“You can come in and observe, if you wish.” He smiled at her.
Did he think her a coward? Perhaps she was. She’d not been inside the drawing room once. “I think I’d help you most by staying with Barthy and praying.”
“That gives me strength.” He kissed her hand and left.
She stared at the door where he’d exited for a long while, then got up to call Mina. Spending more time on her preparations than was necessary, she knew she lingered, dreading to go below stairs.
Watching from the window, she saw Aunt Elspeth arrive. What would she do when the charges were brought up against Vanora? Aunt Elspeth might blame Alana and end their tentative friendship.
Still mulling over those thoughts, Alana helped Mina get Finella ready for the day, then absent-mindedly played a game with the old woman.
Occasionally, she ventured back to the window that looked out on the courtyard. She counted the coaches lined up in the drive. All of the neighboring clans must be in attendance.
Banging doors suddenly shattered the peace. Women screamed with men’s shouts heard above the screaming.
Alana remained glued to the window as men spilled out onto the cobblestoned courtyard. Turnkeys with swords drawn surrounded a man she recognized as Red McGil, and he was hustled into a waiting carriage.
A guard with a woman in tow came into view. Alana didn’t recognize the woman who continued to scream, jerk and thrash until she was pushed into another carriage.
Upset with all the commotion, Finella set up
her own wailing. “Take her into her bedroom, Mina.” Alana crossed the room as she spoke. “Try to calm her. I’m going below.”
“Are you certain it be safe, m’lady?”
“I’ll try to remain out of sight,” Alana said, slipping out the door.
People huddled in groups in the hallway, waiting to be allowed to go back into the courtroom. She saw Rory break away and walk toward her. “What’s happened?” She noticed the deep scowl on his face.
“McGil was found guilty of Lyulf’s murder and taken out to be executed. His wife started screaming, running around, punching anyone who tried to subdue her. The execution will be carried out before she has time to gather support from the rest of the clan. They’re anxious to finish the assizes today, if possible.”
“The poor woman.” Alana looked around him to see that most of the people had gone back inside. “Are you going back in?”
“I’m going to sit with Father for a while.”
“I’ll relieve you later.” No need for both of them to sit with Barthy at the same time.
With a nod of affirmation, Rory left her alone in the empty hall.
Alana paced the long hallway. She had no desire to observe the trial.
Instead of going back upstairs, she made her way to the back parlor. She’d wanted to pray with Barthy, but she could pray by herself. That thought had never occurred to her. She always relied on Lord Barthram. Would God listen to her?
She went to stand in front of the tall windows. The sky called her, and she lifted her gaze to the brilliant blue canopy. With hands together, she tried to rein in the awkward thoughts that tumbled around in her mind.
Heavenly Father, I know Jesus taught us to think of You as Father, but I’ve never known a true father. Tis hard for me. I ask nothing for myself, but that You give Gavin strength today, that You let Your justice be served. I believe, my Lord, You will make it right.
Somehow the words gave her strength and she tilted her head back. With Your help, we’ll face whatever we must, Gavin and I. We willna run away, but face this evil and overcome. Whatever comes, we’ll be steadfast for our people…and our children. I thank You, my God, please take care of my husband and our child. I believe…I believe.”
The Chieftain's Choice (The Wolf Deceivers Series Book 1) Page 20
