He rolled the parchment up and went to stand a few steps away from David.
David sat up, looked directly at Brogan and Mairghread and motioned them forward.
Protectively, he led her forward. With one hand on her back and holding her hand, he helped her to curtsey, then he knelt before his king.
“Rise,” David said.
’Twas difficult for her to get up and down, what with her large belly, but she managed to do so with grace and aplomb.
“Brogan Mackintosh, what say ye to these charges?”
Without blinking an eye, he replied, “’Tis horse shite, yer grace.”
Mairghread felt the blood rush from her face as she gasped at her husband’s reply. The crowd laughed and the king chuckled. In wide-eyed astonishment, she looked at her husband. Her expression said she thought him mad for speaking to the king in such a manner.
“Ye be John Mackintosh’s son, all right.”
Brogan smiled. “Aye, I am. He sends his regards, yer grace. He wanted to be here, but the Cameron’s have been raidin’ the borders of late.”
“Still feudin’ with the Camerons?” he asked with a raised brow. “I will deal with that later. Fer now, we have some serious accusations ye need to answer to.”
’Twas then he looked at Mairghread. “Ye be the woman I have heard so much about of late?”
Stunned, she managed an awkward nod and stammered, “I be Mairghread Mactavish, wife of Brogan Mackintosh.” She took in a deep breath before going on. “And the rightful heir and chief of Clan Mactavish, yer grace.”
His bushy eyebrows perked up. “Ye be the chief of Clan Mactavish?”
“Aye, yer grace.”
Aymer stepped forward then, with a shake of his head, looking on her with pity-filled eyes. “’Tis just as I told ye, yer grace. She is often given to delusions of grandeur.”
Brogan’s jaw ticked, his eyes turning to slits. “She speaks the truth and ye well ken it.”
Keeping his eyes focused solely on David, Aymer said, “As I have told ye, yer grace, she drinks too much and now believes she be the chief. ’Tis sad, ’tis truly sad.” He gave a slow shake of his head for added emphasis.
“I warned ye once no’ to speak ill of me wife,” Brogan told him. “I will no’ remind ye again.”
As if he were surprised, Aymer stood taller, and pulled his shoulders back. “Ye mean when ye threatened to kill me with yer bare hands?”
“Nay,” Brogan replied cooly. “When I promised I would kill ye with me own two hands.”
Aymer threw his hands up in feigned frustration and turned back to David. “He admits to threatening me life, yer grace. How is a man to protect his only flesh and blood?”
“Protect her?” Brogan asked through gritted teeth. “Is that what ye call it? Tearin’ down the outer wall? Hiding weapons? Givin’ her husband a poison that would make him lose his grip on reality? By tryin’ to force her into marrying one of the most cruel and sadistic men ever to grace God’s earth? Is that how ye protect yer only flesh and blood?”
For the first time since meeting the man, Brogan saw him flinch. ’Twas brief and barely perceptible, but ’twas a flinch all the same. “He is just as mad as me niece, yer grace,” Aymer said with a sneer.
“Poison?” David asked as he leaned forward in his chair. “What is this poison ye speak of?”
Aymer scoffed openly. “’Tis naught but a lie, yer grace.”
“Like hell it is.”
That comment came from Mairghread. All eyes turned to her then. Aymer was furious and Brogan looked quite proud. But her king? He seemed to be amused by her outburst, for he was grinning.
“Tell me, Mairghread, about this poison,” David requested, his grin fading as he took on a more serious stance.
“Yer, grace, ’tis naught but a fantasy made up by—”
“I do no’ believe I was speakin’ to ye, Aymer,” David said, glowering at him for a long moment before turning back to Mairghread. “Continue.”
Clearing the growing knot from her throat, she stood a bit taller. “Aymer gave me husband, James, a tisane called Devil’s Brew,” she began.
David sat up with a jolt. “Devil’s Brew?” he asked, looking appalled. “That stuff can kill a man.”
“Or make that man behave in an insane manner for hours and hours,” she added.
David glanced angrily at Aymer before turning back to Mairghread. “And ye say yer uncle gave that concoction to James?”
“Aye, m’laird, he did. And I have witnesses to prove it.” She looked right at Aymer when she spoke.
“A crazy auld woman?” Aymer’s tone was challenging.
“Among others,” she said before turning back to David. “Me uncle had me all but convinced that it had been I who killed me babe and husband and that I was so overcome with guilt that I tried to kill meself. I could no’ remember all that happened that day, yer grace, until recently. Now, I ken the truth.”
Intrigued and beyond curious, David leaned forward in his chair, hanging on to her every word. “What is the truth?”
“I loved me husband and son, yer grace. More than anything or anyone else in this world. They were me entire life. I did no’ kill them and I certainly did no’ stab me ownself.”
“Then who killed them?”
“James and Aymer.”
A collective gasp came from the crowd behind them. The onlookers were just as surprised at her story as David was.
“James and Aymer?” he asked with a good measure of stunned disbelief.
Aymer began to protest her accusations, but David put a stop to it immediately. “One more outburst from ye and ye will find yerself in the dungeon.”
Brogan watched as the blood rushed from Aymer’s face.
Mairghread took a deep steadying breath and nodded. “Aye, yer grace. Because James was in a fit of rage from unknowingly drinkin’ the Devil’s Brew that was meant for me, he killed our son. Then he turned the knife on me.”
“Wait,” David said. “Are ye sayin’ the brew was meant fer ye?”
“Aye, yer grace, it was.”
His bushy brows furrowed. “Then who killed James?”
It seemed everyone in the room was holding their breaths.
“Aymer. Aymer sliced James’ throat.”
Another stunned gasp and murmurs flittered from the crowd. Drawing strength from Brogan, as well as the fact that David seemed keenly interested in her tale, she went on. “Aymer was about to kill me when Gertie and Tilda came into the room. They be me maids, yer grace. They had heard me scream something fierce and came to see what was the matter.” Most of what she had just told him was the truth. Only part of it was conjecture. She could not remember seeing Aymer slice James’s throat, but ’twas the only thing that made sense. If Aymer could accuse her unjustly, then she ought to be able to do the same.
Her blood ran cold when she saw the flash of fear and surprise in Aymer’s eyes. In that instant, she knew she had not been wrong.
David’s lips drew into a thin, hard line as he looked at Aymer. The entire room fell silent. “What say ye, Aymer?”
“’Tis a lie,” he stammered angrily. “She killed them, then turned the knife on herself. And now she wishes to blame me so that she might take over as chief.”
“But I am the chief,” she argued. “According to our laws, our traditions, and me father’s will. Which, yer grace, Aymer has refused to produce to anyone.”
“Where be this will?” he asked, pinning Aymer in place with a hard glare.
“’Twas destroyed,” Aymer said indignantly.
David did not look convinced. “How inconvenient for all concerned.”
Aymer swallowed hard, his eyes darting from David to Mairghread, and back again. “She is tryin’ to place the blame for her own bad behavior on me, yer grace. It still does no’ change the fact that she is a drunkard and a bigamist.”
It took every ounce of self-control to keep his temper in check. Clenching his jaw,
drawing his hands into fists, Brogan was furious. “How can a widow be a bigamist?” he ground out. From David’s confused expression, ’twas the first time he was hearing this accusation as well.
Aymer, feeling as though he once again had the upper hand, gave him a furtive glance before turning back to David. “I be no’ speakin’ about James. I speak of another.”
“That is a lie!” Mairghread exclaimed. For a fleeting moment, she thought mayhap, he was telling the truth. There were many things she had done whilst drunk that she could not recall later. Had she unknowingly married the Frenchman? Dread settled into the pit of her stomach.
Speaking over the growing din, Aymer said, “She was married by proxy, to Claude Courtemanche.”
The room erupted then into stunned surprise and even outrage. Ian had to physically restrain Brogan, to keep him from killing Aymer with his bare hands. Mairghread stood on shaking legs as her worry piled on top of dread.
“Ye married yer own niece off to him?” David asked in wide-eyed disbelief.
“By proxy, yer grace,” Aymer said, as he tried to hide a smile.
“That be a bloody lie!” Brogan shouted.
David had to call for quiet three times before everyone finally settled down. He’d turned red with anger and frustration. “One more outburst and I will have ye all removed,” he called out to the crowd of onlookers.
Once the room quieted, he looked upon Aymer with a stern countenance before taking his seat again. “When did this marriage by proxy take place?” he asked.
“More than a year ago,” he replied drolly.
David turned to gauge Mairghread’s reaction, but was speaking to Aymer. “And when did ye let yer niece know of this marriage by proxy?”
“The very day it happened, yer grace. But she might no’ remember, fer she was verra drunk.”
Mairghread stepped forward to face her uncle. “Ye lie,” she told him.
“Nay, lass, I do no’ lie.”
“So ye told me? Only once?” she said, challenging his accusation. “When did this supposedly take place? And where be this proxy now? Was it too, destroyed, along with me father’s will?”
“After Claude visited our keep nearly two years ago,” Aymer told her.
Tired of being held back and quiet, Brogan shook himself from Ian’s grip. “Ye had more than one occasion in that time to tell Mairghread what ye did,” he said through gritted teeth. “But ye claim ye only told her once, whilst she was too drunk to remember?” He looked to David then. “Yer grace, ye can no’ believe such lies.”
David was growing angrier with each passing moment. “Do no’ tell me what I can or can no’ believe,” he said.
For the first time, Brogan was worried. Worried that Aymer had paid David off, and that no matter what evidence they laid before him, he was going to side with Aymer. A shiver of fear tickled the back of his neck, making his hair stand on end.
“Again, I ask to see the proxy,” Mairghread demanded.
Aymer smiled, as if he’d just won a great battle. “Claude has it,” he said.
The crowd parted as Claude Courtemanche made his way from the back of the room to stand before the King of Scotland.
Terror all but seized her heart. Brogan, seeing the fear in her eyes, pulled her behind him and took a protective stance. He’d kill Courtemanche and Aymer before he let either one of them lay so much as a finger on her.
Bowing with a flourish, Courtemanche smiled. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you, your grace.”
David was not impressed. “Ye have the proxy?” he asked, refusing to return the man’s smile.
“I do,” he replied as he pulled a small scroll from his purple jacket. Bowing again, he handed the scroll to the man who had read the charges.
He read it before handing it off to David. Reading it thoroughly, he looked up only once, before handing it back to his man.
Peering around Brogan to look at Mairghread, he said, “And ye claim ye were unaware of this marriage?”
“I knew nothin’ of it, yer grace, I swear it,” she replied nervously.
“Again, she was too drunk to remember,” Aymer said.
Consternation was etched in David’s face. “And ye only thought to tell her once?” he asked. “Ye claim she drank heavily, why would ye no’ tell her again?”
Sneering at Mairghread, he replied, “’Tis difficult to find her in a sober moment.”
“She has no’ had so much as a drop of strong drink in more than six months,” Brogan countered. “And why did ye no’ mention this when ye last visited the keep last Samhain?”
“I was so surprised to learn she had married ye, that it must have slipped me mind,” Aymer replied, sounding bored with Brogan’s questions.
Brogan raised a dubious brow. “Be it yer contention that ye did no’ ken of our marriage until last Samhain?”
“Of course I did no’ ken about it until last Samhain,” Aymer responded angrily. “I did no’ ken about it until I returned with Claude.”
Brogan smiled at him, then to David. “He be lyin’, and I can prove it.”
Ian left at Brogan’s barely perceptible nod. Brogan turned his attention back to David and Aymer. “Yer grace, I tell ye the proxy presented to ye this day is false. I also tell ye that Aymer has lied to ye when he says he had no knowledge of me marriage to Mairghread until he returned to our keep last Samhain, and I can prove it.”
Aymer laughed at Brogan’s declaration. “Prove it? How?”
“Do ye remember the messengers Mairghread sent to ye, the day after we wed?”
Still believing he was going to win this day, Aymer offered a shrug of indifference. “I remember no such messengers.”
Lifting a brow, Brogan said, “Archibald and Drayton? Ye do no’ remember them?”
“Archibald? Be he the lad who hanged himself?” Aymer replied, still feeling quite in charge. “And Drayton, did ye no’ die recently during a drunken brawl in Inverness?”
“Archibald did die, but no’ by his own hand,” he said before turning his attention back to David. “The day after Mairghread and I were wed, she sent two messengers to find Aymer and to tell him of our marriage. Aymer, ye see, was on his way to France, to collect Claude Courtemanche. With him, were a dozen Mactavish men, as well as the dowry. They were to be married upon their return to the Mactavish keep. No’ once did he ever mention a marriage by proxy. No’ even to the messengers.”
David’s patience was growing thin. “Get to yer point, Mackintosh.”
“Less than a week after he visited our keep, Archibald Mactavish was found hangin’ in our armory. ’Twas meant to look like a suicide. Supposedly, he hanged himself. But there was somethin’ missin’: A chair or a stool with which to lift himself off the floor. The lad was far too short to wrap the belt around his neck twice, then somehow manage to get it across the beam, lift himself several inches off the floor, and tie the belt around the beam twice, without the aid of chair, stool, or ladder. Unless, of course, he knew how to fly.”
Light laughter broke out amongst the crowd. They were silenced immediately by a scowl from David.
A quick glance at Aymer proved his theory. He had paled visibly.
“As fer Drayton Mactavish, he be no’ dead, yer grace.”
“That be impossible!” Aymer shouted. “The lad died naught more than three weeks ago, in a drunken brawl!”
Cocking his head to one side, Brogan asked, “And how did ye come to this knowledge afore anyone else?”
Aymer looked fit to be tied, his face purple with rage. “Since I be the chief of clan Mactavish, it behooves me to ken such things.”
“Afore anyone else kens it?” Brogan asked again. “And how did ye come by this information?”
Gritting his teeth, Aymer said, “I still have ties to the clan, Mackintosh.”
“Ties or spies?” he asked with a sneer of his own.
The crowd parted for a second time, as Ian, three of their guards, and one very afraid loo
king young lad, made their way through. Brogan watched as Aymer’s eyes grew wide with astonishment.
“Yer grace, this be Drayton Mactavish of clan Mactavish,” Brogan said.
The young man looked positively terrified as he bowed before his king.
David ordered him to rise, and studied him closely for a long moment. “Aymer, be this the young man ye claimed was dead?”
Swallowing hard, he could only nod his head as he stared at the young man in question.
Brogan looked at David. “If I may, yer grace, have the lad tell ye about the day he and Archibald met with Aymer Mactavish.”
“Ye may,” David replied.
“Drayton, please tell yer king about yer mission to find Aymer last summer,” Brogan said.
The lad’s adam’s apple bobbed up and down before he could find the words to speak. “Well, our lady, lady Mairghread, she asked Archibald to go in search of her uncle. Archibald asked me to go with him, fer God only kent how long it would take, ye ken.”
“And did ye find Aymer?” Brogan asked.
“Aye, m’laird, we did. Just outside of London. Aymer and them had made camp, ye ken. Though we was both right scared about tellin’ him and givin’ him our lady’s letter.”
“That is a lie!” Aymer cried out. “I never met with this boy or the one named Archibald.”
“Ye had yer chance, Aymer,” David told him. “I want to hear what this lad has to say.”
A light sheen of sweat broke out on Drayton’s forehead and upper lip. Brogan imagined the poor young man was terrified of being dragged before the king. “Please, tell us what happened when ye met with Aymer.”
“Like I says, we found them encamped just outside London. I was already as nervous as a sinner in church, because we was in England. I had never been so far from home before, yer grace.”
“How did ye find England?” David asked with a playful twinkle in his eye.
Confused, the lad said, “Well, we just rode south, yer grace, until the people started talkin’ funny.”
David found the boy’s confusion and honesty refreshing and laughed heartily at his reply. Everyone in the room, save for Aymer and Courtemanche, laughed.
Brogan's Promise: Book Three of The Mackintoshes and McLarens Page 42
