Page 25 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
She would tell him so—that she’d been wrong—and do all she could to convince him of her own innocence. Together, they’d discover who was truly responsible. As chieftain, Ragnall would have the authority to bring the evil-hearted villain to justice. She believed in his sense of honour to do so, even were it to cause trouble within the clan.
With alacrity, she washed at the small basin, wincing only a little at the tenderness between her legs. True to his word, Ragnall had been gentle with her, and it had been she, rather, who had urged him on. To think that she’d been fearful, in those hours afterward, that he might have rendered her with child.
Now, the notion brought with it altogether different feelings.
Their vows had been made before God and bound by the fastening of hands.
They’d lost so much time, but she would make up for it now. She would be the wife he deserved, and embrace Ragnall as her husband, as her father had intended. In this, at least, she could make amends.
Having donned the red woollen gown, she dressed her hair and made herself presentable. She had faith that he would see the truth.
Then, he would want to bring her to the great hall, wouldn't he? To present her to their clansmen. He’d explain everything, and they would understand. He’d make them believe in her innocence, and all would be well. He was the chieftain, and well-respected. None would question his wisdom.
She had only to retell the details of that night, and he would see the honesty of her words.
She wouldnae allow herself to believe anything else.
When the door opened at last, Flora’s heart leapt and she rose immediately to her feet. How she longed to throw her arms about her husband’s neck and meet his eager kisses with her own.
Only when he stepped into the room with Calder at his side did her joy die in her breast, for Ragnall appeared to have aged since she saw him last.
“Aye, ’tis the lass.” Calder stepped boldly towards her, an unpleasant smile upon his lips. “Her father nae suspected he nursed a viper, but I saw it from the start—that she were a serpent in the guise of a maid, more concerned with her own vain wishes than her duty tae the clan. ’Twas a relief, I tell ye, when the early promise of us being joined as man and wife was broken.”
He shook his head woefully. “I was nae alone in hearing her arguing with Malcolm in his chamber the very evening of his death, but I didnae guess she’d go so far as tae murder him. The bloodied garments were found in her room on the morn, and the wench fled, as ye ken.”
For several moments, Flora was too horrified to speak but then a wave of fury broke over her. “Lies! I never spoke against ma father’s wish. I was all a dutiful daughter should be. I accepted every decision he made, even when the choices were nae ma own.” She cast her eyes to Ragnall, beseeching him to speak on her behalf, but saw only bleak acceptance.
How could it be so?
The laird was no fool. Why would he believe Calder’s accusations?
“Ye see how she is!” Calder folded his arms. “From her own lips, she admits the betrothal was against her wish—and didnae the wench write the same on the note she left in her chamber, sayin’ she wouldnae take ye to husband? She didnae want ye Ragnall, any more than she wanted me.”
An evil glint lit Calder’s eyes. “I guess ye’ve bedded her, but did ye have the chance to inspect her body by good light? It wouldnae surprise me to find she bore some devil’s mark. I hear the witches dunnae like to take mortal men to husband, having enough demons visit them by night to satisfy even the most wanton lusts.”
The gasp of horror died in Flora’s throat as she saw Ragnall look not at her but to the morning sun filling the window.
He wouldn’t countenance such vile accusations. She wouldn’t believe it.
“Nae doubt she came tae ye posing as an innocent and seduced ye with sweet promises,” Calder continued. “But I see now she wears the fine scarlet o' a woman confident in her charms. Had ye come tae yer chamber alone, I’ll vouch she would hae had those skirts thrown up for ye in a trice. Such is the way with women who ken how tae twist a man tae the coil o' their finger.”
Flora felt the heat rush to her cheeks. Would that be what Ragnall saw when he looked at her now—a conniving woman who’d played his passions all along? It shamed her to think that he wouldn’t be far wrong.
“I see it pains ye tae know ye were deceived, but ye need trouble yerself nae longer, Ragnall. If ‘twere left tae me, I’d have the wanton hung for her sins, but I’ll honour yer wishes as head o' the clan. As we agreed, I’ll see tae her detainment at Castle Dunrannoch. She’ll nae more be a danger tae God-fearing men.” Calder cast a swift glance at his chieftain and, seeing him distracted, sent Flora a leer of triumph. “I’ll make it ma concern tae see she thinks long and hard on her wickedness, living out her days in penance.”
Flora clutched at her throat. “But ye cannae! Ragnall is ma wedded husband. Only he has authority over me.”
Rushing to the laird’s side, she took his hand in hers and brought it to her breast. “Look to yer heart, husband. Ye ken I’m a good woman and true.”
Ragnall granted her the courtesy of meeting her eyes but his own had undergone a transformation, filled with an abyss of hollow pain. She barely recognized the man who had jested with her, who had confronted her with his own anger, and had bedded her with such passion.
“The betrothal will be annulled.” Calder declared. “Father Gregory will agree when he hears the truth o' the witch’s unholy crimes. Nae man should remain wed tae such a vixen, least of all the chieftain beloved o’ clan Dalreagh. There be plenty of virtuous women our laird may choose in place o’ this foul wench. Ma own sisters, Sorcha and Hilda, be coming of age for making obedient wives. Come the new year, I’ll send both tae Castle Balmore for ye to know better, Ragnall. I’ve nae doubt ye’ll find one tae yer liking, and the handfasting may take place as soon as ye be ready.”
“Nay!” Flora dropped to her knees, pressing her head to Ragnall’s thigh. “Dinnae send me away.”
“Tae yer feet, wench.” Calder’s rough hand pulled her to her feet again. “Be grateful ye’re spared a trial before the clansmen and the baring of yer body for the search o' witch-marks. Even where a body appears pure, they be sometimes found in the intimate parts—and the searching must be thorough.”
“Enough!” Ragnall spoke at last, his tone tinged weary. “Ye torment the girl for nae good reason, Calder. For all the evidence ye put forward regarding the night of Malcolm’s death, I cannae be certain she wielded the dirk. Return her tae her home, and treat her with the care due the former chieftain’s daughter, but confine her tae her former chambers at Dunrannoch until I’ve thought further on the matter.”
