From the garret she heard movement. A shadow fell across the floor and then disappeared. Someone was in there. The Laird?
“You ken me, do you not?” Rachel asked.
Out in the corridor the steward coughed, trying to get the Lady’s attention.
Jessica tried not to wilt under the fierce onslaught of the Lady’s eyes. “I know you’re the Lady of Clan MacGregor, wife of Cam MacGregor, Laird of these people and the lands from the north down to the Dark River.”
Where did those words come from? They were out of her mouth as if a rote response. What was happening?
Rachel nodded. “I came here with a key many years ago. My daughter, my true daughter, went missing years ago.”
Jessica nodded, her heart pounding so hard in her chest she thought it might explode. Would they realise she was pretending to be their daughter?
Rachel continued. “I was told she would return with a key of her own. Do you have a key?”
“I did have one. The steward stole it from me.”
“A lie,” the steward said, coming in and grabbing hold of Jessica by the arm. “She is a thief and will be dealt with accordingly. Now come on, you have disturbed the peace of the castle long enough.” He dragged her out of the room, shouting loudly. “This woman just assaulted the Lady. Take her to the dungeon.”
Jessica looked back and saw Rachel in the doorway, looking mournful. “Help us,” she shouted but the guards were pulling the doors closed. It was starting to look more like the Laird and Lady were prisoners in their own castle. What she needed was to get them alone, away from the steward.
That was easier said than done as she was dragged down the stairs and into the bowels of the castle.
She could see Eddard trying to fight them off. At first it looked as if he’d win but there were just too many of them and too little space. Soon he was as helpless as her and that was when she felt truly lost for the first time since she’d met him.
At the bottom of another staircase she was shoved through a doorway. Before she had time to react it was slammed shut, a key rattling on the other side. She thought for a moment she might have been sent back home but no, it was a dark and dank prison cell.
“She is to be executed,” the steward said to someone on the other side. “Tried to murder the Laird and Lady.” The voice faded away and then she was alone in a deafening silence.
The room was lit only by a thin window high above her head. A thin strip of light hit the far wall, barely enough to illuminate the interior of the cell. Where was Eddard? Was he imprisoned nearby?
Fear rose within her as she thought about what the steward had said. Executed? She prayed this was a dream, one from which might she might wake up at any moment.
A jangle of chains made her jump and then she noticed someone in the corner, sitting cross legged and plaiting lengths of straw together.
She crossed the cell and sat down opposite the figure. It was a woman a similar age to herself, red hair lank and falling over her shoulders. Her skin was bruised. “How long have you been in here?” she asked.
The woman looked up at her. “A week.”
“What for?”
The woman smiled. “Has he sent you here to get me to talk?”
“Who?”
“Ronald. The pig who walks on two legs.”
“Did he put you in here?”
“Aye and to think he used to pay me for my services. Told me I would be his Lady when he became Laird.”
“What? How did you end up in here, then?”
The woman set down the ends of straw and stretched her hands out in front of her. “I ken something he shared that he regrets sharing.”
“What’s that?”
“The clan is ruined. He’s been siphoning money for himself for years and spending it all. He even borrowed from the moneylenders and owes so much the whole place will be ruined by the end of the month.”
