Page 49 of Kilty By Association
Panting hard, Elspeth and Robbie followed.
“Why…do ye think…” she managed, legs weak, “the solar…is…so high…up?”
Robbie was sucking in tight breaths as well. “Likely…to catch…the best…sun.”
Brigit glanced over her shoulder, not even winded. “Narrative causality, I imagine.”
“Ah. Narrative…causality,” Elspeth panted.
Robbie was beginning to stumble, and she reflected that mayhap they shouldnae have runallthe way from the stables as well. “What’s…narrative…causmaligy?”
“’Tis when…actually…I dinnae…exactly…ken…”
“Nae one does!” Brigit announced cheerfully, reaching the landing behind Craig. “’Tis what makes it a perfect excuse.”
All four of them burst into the solar to see Roger bent over the desk, muttering to himself as he added up columns on a slate, the cool breeze blowing through the open window lending an air of tranquility to the whole scene.
Less tranquil when Craig drew his sword and bellowed, “Where’s yer wife, ye bastard?”
Blinking in confusion, Roger lifted his head. “My—who?”
“Yer wife!” Craig stepped forward, the sword pointed at Roger’s nose. “The bitch who paid to have yer brother killed. Who’s been trying to kill Robbie all this time! Are ye involved?”
Roger was going cross-eyed, staring down the blade. “I-I-I-I…”
“To be fair,” Brigit pointed out, her hands up her sleeves once more, “we have nae proof Agnes has been behind more than just today’s attempt.”
“I’ll have her confession,” Craig growled.
“Agnes?” Roger squeaked. “Why would she try…” He began to shake his head, then thought better of it. “She loves Dungotit.”
“Loves it a bit too much,” Elspeth muttered, pulling her son protectively against her once more.
“Mother,” he gasped, tapping her forearm, and she loosened her hold enough for him to breathe, demanding boy.
Craig’s blade now hovered dangerously close to Roger’s nostril. “’Tis no’ so difficult to understand—even I can see her reasoning! She wantsyeto be the Earl!”
Roger’s eyes widened, and again, either he was the Highland’s best thespian, or he was truly surprised.
“Me? The Earl of Dungotit?” This time he did lean back far enough to shake his head. “Why wouldIwant to be Earl?” His hands fumbled across the desk, pulling vellum and books to him. “’Tis bad enough I have to waste hours on business for the estate when I could be reading. Who would want to do thisallthe time?”
He seemed…sincere.
“Craig,” Elspeth said softly. When the man she loved turned to her, she tried for a small smile. “Agnesclearly had plans.”
The door swung open, and there she stood.
“Aye! Plans!” Agnes screeched, holding a knife above her head. “Ones ye’ve ruined!”
This seemed a bit too…convenient. Craig swung around, his sword now pointing at Agnes, as Elspeth backed herself and Robbie toward the opposite wall, thinking to protect him and Brigit—behind her now—with her body.
“Agnes MacBeth Sinclair,” intoned Craig in an ominous rumble, as if he were wearing the distinctive helmet which would’ve normally marked such a somber occasion. “As a King’s Hunter I carry the full authority of His Majesty, and Iask ye now, how many attempts ye’ve made on Robbie Sinclair’s life?”
“All of them!” She hadn’t lowered the knife, but stepped into the room, her expression pulled into a horrible rictus. “All of them! The poisoned food! The bandits! The assassins I paid in Scone! He’s alad, for Christ’s sake! Why the hell could he no’ just do the simple thing anddiealready, so my useless husband, and eventually my son, could be Earl?”
Elspeth was shaking from anger and fear, at the thought of her sister-in-law trying so casually to kill her bairn. She wrapped both arms around Robbie now, shielding him.
“Ye’ve admitted to attempted assassination?” Craig rumbled.
