Page 27 of The Lady's Guide to a Highlander’s Heart
Chapter 12
Castle Balmore
Afternoon, December 31
Ragnall staredinto the bottom of his empty cup then back through the ice-crusted window. The castle was filled with sounds of merrymaking but he hadnae the will to join in wholehearted.A new year was upon them, but the darkness of the past seemed to wrap all the tighter about him.
Even the loyal affection of Murdo failed to comfort him, though the hound had followed its master closely these days past, placing its head upon his lap whene’er the silence of his melancholy grew too great.
From the first moment he’d laid eyes on the fiery-headed maid, he’d felt a portion of the burden lift from his shoulders, as if her vitality had the power to cast away some of the painful memories he carried.
Perhaps, some part of him had known it was her, Flora, all along, but he’d been unwilling to accept what his bones told him. He’d chosen to love her in the only way he knew—with his body rather than his heart. A paltry sort of love, but he wasnae capable of more. He'd been flint-hardened too many years.
Now, what had he done?
Though Calder was kin, he didnae trust the man—and the venom he’d lashed upon Flora was outlandish. Whatever her sins, she was young—more maid than woman, no matter the feminine curves that fitted his hands and the passion that burned in her blood.
He’d thought he wouldnae be able to make a judgement with a clear head while she resided under his roof but allowing Calder to remove Flora had been a mistake. The same night, he’d regretted the decision and made to saddle his horse, but the storm had been already raging, angry sleet driving cruel across the moor, and he’d known it would be foolhardy to send his horse into the gale.
Nor could he travel alone.
To risk his own life was one thing, but he couldnae place other men’s in jeopardy to remedy his error.
Now, the storm was easing but ’twas Hogmany night—and he could hardly drag his kinsmen into the winter’s cold when their only wish was to unite in celebration. Come first light, he would order the horses readied and douse the men in cold water himself if necessary, to fetch Flora back to the safety of Balmore.
He knew not, as yet, what decision he must make, but he would gather evidence and question witnesses himself, rather than rely on Calder’s doubtful oversight. His prayer carried, he hoped, to a merciful God, who would guide him in finding Flora as innocent as she proclaimed.
Meantime, he should join the feasting below. No matter the lowness of his spirits, a chieftain was needed among his men, and Hogmany night was rich in custom to welcome in good omens for the new year.
Every doorway might be overhung with rowan and hazel to ward off evil, and the broom have swept ill luck out the door, but Ragnall knew the fortunes of the clan relied on leadership rather than ritual.
A soft knock came at the door and Ragnall bid enter the serving maid he’d summoned earlier to bring more ale. Perhaps he’d take just one more cup before donning the face he must wear as chieftain of the Dalreaghs.
He recognized her at once. “Maggie, is it not?”
The woman had entered the castle at Flora’s side.
A confidant?
If anyone knew what had happened that night, perhaps ’twould be she.
Bobbing a curtsy, the maid set down the pitcher and turned nervous eyes on her laird. “I’ve been wanting to confide in ye, ma lord.”
“Aye.” Ragnall indicated for her to sit. “And I should hae brought ye here afore now, tae speak for yer mistress.”
The woman twisted her apron back and forth. “I cannae vouch for ma Flora’s motives in making herself intimate with ye, laird…” The subject clearly caused her some embarrassment. “And I own it was foolish o' her tae come here at all. I didnae want us tae do so, but Flora was set upon it.”
Ragnall felt the tension as his jaw clenched. “Ignorant of yer mistress’s intent ye might have been, but ye surely know what transpired on this night two winters before?”
The woman was trembling. “As to that, with the Lord as ma witness, I cannae say.” The quiver in her lip betrayed the closeness of her tears. “But I’ve known Flora since she was a bairn, and I’d give oath on ma life that she’d ne’er have raised a hand tae harm her father. She came tae me in the darkest hours with the horrors upon her, telling o' finding him murdered in his bed, and I ne’er for a moment doubted the honesty of it.”
Ragnall frowned. He’d seen enough lies in his time to know when a person was being truthful, and Maggie’s demeanour told him she believed all she said.
But, their actions still didnae make sense to him.
“Why did ye flee the castle, if neither of ye were tae blame for the laird’s death? Ye must have foreseen it would go against ye. Only those who are guilty run in shame—and yer mistress had promised herself tae me as wife but hours before. Did it count for nothing with her?”
“Oh, ma laird!”
