Roger strodepast the great hall still bustling with servants cleaning up the mess, but he barely gave them a glance.
His fists clenched, all he could think of was the frightened look in Julianna’s eyes when he had left her moments ago—and of the brother he sought who so wished her ill.
No, not just ill. William wanted her dead, Roger understood that now.
William had recognized the opportunity to destroy her and seized upon it, his heinous charge still echoing in Roger’s mind. So much so that he didn’t hear someone call out to him until he was almost to the door leading out to the bailey, two guards rushing up the last of the stone steps from the dungeon beneath the keep.
“Laird, wait! Horas is dead! By his own hand, a knife hidden in his garment. He slashed his throat before we could stop him.”
“Did he say anything before he died?” Roger demanded, stunned by this sudden news. “Did he recant his charges?”
“No, Laird…just that he would see your lady in hell.”
“Damn him.” His gut twisting that the healer had borne as much ill will toward Julianna as William, he turned back to the door only to have a warrior he’d ordered to find William, pull it open, the young man coming up short to see him there.
“Laird, your brother rode out moments ago. We tried tae catch him—but he wielded his sword so wildly that we couldna pull him from the horse.”
“Then it has begun.”
His men staring grimly at him, Roger felt such fury at the depth of William’s hatred that he stood there motionless, his hand clenching the hilt of his sword.
Horas unrepentant, and dead.
William riding to fetch the bishop who mayhap would proclaim Julianna guilty of being a witch—ah, God, let him come. Roger already knew what he intended to do that could only be altered if King Robert intervened in some way…but what chance was there that the king would arrive in time?
The bishop’s residence was only a day’s ride away while Dumbarton Castle was a half day longer—even if a messenger rode with little rest for himself or his mount. Yet if there was even the slightest possibility…
“Fetch me a messenger, now!”
As his men hastened to oblige him, Roger walked back to the entranceway and looked out upon the great hall that had held such celebration and happiness until—
“Laird…I-I’m so sorry for what happened. If any harm had come tae your lady, I would never have forgiven myself…”
Roger stared at the redheaded maidservant who had crept up near to where he stood, her face flushed and swollen from weeping. She sank to her knees in front of him and bowed her head.
“Forgive me, I beg you. I dinna believe at all what Horas claimed, once the shock of what he said wore away—none of us do.”
“My brother William made the same false accusation against her in the chapel—och, lass, get up. I dinna blame you.”
She rose shakily, glancing behind her at the servants, men and women alike, who had stopped their labors and who drew closer, too.
“We dinna believe it, either, Laird—”
“No, not your beautiful lady,” another broke in, the sincerity in their faces touching Roger deeply. More were coming up to him, murmuring their regret at what Julianna must have suffered, but a commotion made him turn away as a young man barely out of his teens ran up to him.
“You called for a messenger, Laird?”
“Aye, lad. Are you able tae ride like the wind?”
CHAPTER16
If Julianna hadn’t experienced the horror of what had shattered the wedding feast earlier that day, she might have thought it only a fading nightmare for the laughter that filled Roger’s young daughters’ bedchamber.
Her strapping husband on his hands and knees as he tossed his head like a spirited steed, Elspeth and Breda straddling his back and giggling merrily.
“Faster, horsey, faster!”
Elspeth’s girlish command made him pick up his pace as he moved across the floor, his throaty neighs delighting his daughters even more while Julianna laughed right along with them.
