“And Walpole now knows the way to Éirich.” He caught her hand, kissed her fingers, then pressed it to his cheek. “I am not so foolish as to think he never wouldha found us, but it wouldha been a damn site harder for him if a traitor had not shown him the way.”
She rose from his lap, marched over to a large wing-back chair beside the hearth, and started wrestling it across the room.
“Woman!” He jumped up and gently but firmly set her away from it. “What are ye doing?”
She pointed at his chair behind the desk. “Put it over there beside yers.”
“Why?”
“Because I intend to stay at yer side until we find out who did this.” She glared at him with a fierceness that dared him to argue.
He caught her in a hug. “What would I do without ye?”
She tightened her hold on him and whispered, “I pray we never find out.”
A tap on the door interrupted the moment. Teague grudgingly released her, picked up the chair, and placed it beside his own. “Time to snare a traitor. Pour us all a whisky. Calder too, aye? I am sure it is him with our first interview.”
“Happily,” she said without looking happy at all. “And I will bring the bottle over. I feel sure we will need more than one.”
*
She was right.In fact, by the time the bell in the kirk tower tolled the midnight hour, they had finished the whisky and switched to water to make it through the rest of those waiting to be questioned.
As dawn pinked the horizon, Calder escorted Lizzie into the room.
Out of the corner of his eye, Teague noticed Mila became more alert and leaned forward as if ready to pounce. Grissa did the same from where she perched on a footstool beside her mistress. The maid had refused to leave Mila’s side after completing an unnecessary round of questioning. That young woman was more devoted to her mistress and loyal to him than a beloved hound. Neither she nor Mila liked Lizzie, and from the lass’s haughty expression, she hated them too.
“We never had to worry about loyalties till ye married her, ye ken?” Lizzie jerked her head in Mila’s direction, her lip curled into a sneer.
“A thorn in yer side takes a while to fester,” Mila said before Teague could comment. “And someone stupid enough to waste their time tying bundles of dried twigs and animal bones together is capable of anything.”
Teague forced himself to sit back into the depths of his chair. It had been a long, trying night. He was raw-tempered, weary, and thirsty for revenge, and the slightest thing would provoke him into a blind rage. Perhaps it was best that his dear one handle this part.
“Are ye calling me stupid?” Lizzie charged forward till she almost touched the front of the desk.
Mila smiled. “So ye confess, then?”
The snarling woman’s white-knuckled fists trembled at her sides. Her mouth dropped open. “I confess nothing. I have done nothing wrong.”
“Then why would ye take my statement so personally?” Mila rose, rounded the desk, and slowly circled the fuming young woman. “I mentioned no names. I merely spoke of thorns, festering wounds, and people who do stupid things.”
Lizzie reared back as though about to spit, but Mila stopped her by clapping her hand across her mouth and holding it shut.
“And yet again ye prove yer intelligence,” she said, shoving the girl back a step. “Ye try to spit on the chieftain’s wife. In front of him, even. While being questioned about yer loyalty.”
Calder rose, took hold of Lizzie, and pulled her back to the hearth on the far wall. “Ye will stand here and answer himself’s questions.” He cast an admiring nod in Mila’s direction. “Or the questions of herself. Although it appears ye have answered her already.” He looked to Teague for approval.
“My wife shall decide yer punishment for the ill wishes,” Teague said. He pushed up from the chair, leaned over his desk, and glared at the girl. “Ye will find her kinder, because if it were up to me, I would have yer father brand yer face with the mark of a witch.”
Lizzie’s blue eyes widened and filled with the fake tears she was known for. “I was trying to protect ye from her clutches. She is the witch!” She thumped a fist against her chest and held it there. “Ye were mine first.”
“I was never yers!” he bellowed. “Ye have always been nothing but a malcontent ever since I’ve known ye. Even as a bairn ye stirred trouble wherever ye could. What else have ye done to weaken this clan?”
The downturned corners of her mouth deepened and her bottom lip quivered. “Nothing.” She dropped her gaze. “I confess to the ill wishes. Those I did.” With a weary shrug, she quietly added, “I have done nothing else. I swear it.”
He turned to his beloved dove. “Do as ye will with her. She deserves the worst of yer ire for the worry she caused and needs to be humbled.”
“She has not caused me that much worry.” Mila strolled back and forth in front of Lizzie. Her expression became more thoughtful. “But I do have another question before we decide on her sentence.”
