Page 27 of Christmas at Castle Dunrannoch
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!”
Here was the crying that had threatened to come. Maggie buried her face in her apron and shook her head. “I hardly like tae say, but Flora was convinced the killing was at yer hand. I dinnae ken why the notion took her so, but she was convinced ye were impatient for the power the chieftaincy would bring. She swore devoutly that she’d ne’er live as yer wife, knowing ye were the one as did the murder o' her dear father. She was ready tae leave the castle with nae a soul to protect her, so I hadnae a choice but tae go wi’ her. We took shelter wi’ ma brother, on his croft, and Flora did her best tae learn the farming ways—though she ne’er did quite get comfortable with the milking.”
The milking?
The remembrance of his flame-haired beauty bent beneath the udder of the cow rushed in to make Ragnall smile, but the moment was fleeting.
From the first, she’d contrived to deceive him.
As to the purpose, he wanted badly to believe the maid’s story but, it was just possible, she was as fooled in the ways of Flora Dalreagh as he had been himself.
“Calm yerself. I may wish tae speak wi’ ye again, but ’twill be all for now. I was over hasty in sending yer mistress away, but I’ll have her back tae Balmore soon, and answering a great many questions. I’ll get tae the truth of it, nae doubt.”
Maggie threw herself down and kissed Ragnall’s hand. “Oh! I thank ye for it, Laird Dalreagh—for I’m afeared for her safety at Dunrannoch. ’Tis nae ma place tae blacken the name of yer kinsman but I dinnae believe she’ll receive fair treatment under him. Since the betrothal was broken, I saw he harboured ill-will towards the mistress, and he’s a man tae long hold a grudge, I’d say.” She dabbed at her eyes with the apron. “I havenae slept for worryin’.”
Ragnall’s frown returned. With every word Maggie spoke, his own fears were compounded.
“Leave me now, for I’ve much tae think on.” Ragnall raised her up again. “Be about yer business and say nae a word tae anyone. I mun deal with this myself.”
