Seona gasped. “How dare ye accuse me!”
“Ye’d already failed twice before he did that. Afterward, and after ye lost the bairn, I thought ye understood nothing ye did would keep ye here if yerhusband died.” Cameron’s gaze shifted the guardsman. “’Twas no’ ye. Ye were in the dungeon. So who?”
The guardsman froze, his gaze on Seona.
That was as good as a confession they’d conspired to kill her, as far as Mary was concerned, but Cameron wasn’t done.
“Ye may as well tell us,” Cameron cajoled. “Ye are leaving with her in the morning.”
“Ye can marry her when ye return to Grant,” Mary added. “’Tis a better outcome than ye deserve.”
The guardsman’s gaze dropped to the floor for a moment, then back to Cameron. “Lady Grant willna allow her daughter to marry a lowly guard.”
The pain on his face saddened Mary, but she couldn’t help him.
Seona sniffed and turned away from him to stare into the hearthfire.
How could she dismiss her lover’s grief so easily? Mary pressed her hands over her middle, determined to remain strong.
“Anyway, it wasna him,” Seona confirmed. “’Twas the blacksmith’s helper did it all.”
Mary recalled the injured horse that had nearly run her down. The lad had a history of harming smaller animals. She doubted he had any skill with a bow and arrow—perhaps that was why his arrows missed her. “The apprentice set the fire, too?” Mary hadn’t believed he’d destroy the place where he worked, but since it was the one place where he had easy access to a hot fire, and a plausible excuse for the blaze, it made horrible sense.
“He had help,” the guardsman agreed.
“We’ll deal with them,” Cameron said. “As for ye, asLady Mary said, ye have nay place here. Ye never did. Ye are an adulteress in the eyes of the law and the kirk. And nearly a murderess.”
“Dinna insult my lady!” the guardsman warned.
“Nothing worked,” Seona fumed. “The damned bairn was a lass, and she died. If only I’d borne a healthy lad, my place with yer father wouldha been secure. At least he had the decency to die,” she spat at Mary. “If ye were dead, if ye both were,” she added with a glance at Cameron, “all would be well.” She narrowed her eyes. “Ye must no’ leave this room alive.” She lifted an imperious chin at the guardsman.
He stared at Seona, disbelief written in his open-mouthed frown as he hesitated, then he pulled his dirk.
“Aye, kill them,” Seona growled and stood, pointing at Mary.
Cameron was fast. His dirk was in his hand before Mary could blink.
Mary moved quickly, too. Seona’s lover lunged at her, but she ducked out of the way.
Cameron blocked the guardsman’s thrust, grabbed the man’s forearm and twisted, turning out of the way of his blade as he moved.
The guardsman jerked his arm free and swung again, this time at Cameron.
Mary gasped as Cameron blocked him again, then attacked, forcing the fight away from the women.
Seona crept from behind her chair, her gaze on Cameron’s back. Mary noticed her movement out of the corner of her eye, then thesghian dubhin her hand. Too honorable to use it when his opponent wielded only a dirk, he hadn’t pulled his broadsword from his back, butit offered little protection if Seona charged at him with her blade.
Mary dared not distract Cameron by calling out a warning. Instead, she rushed Seona and grabbed her around her knees, knocking her down. The wee blade skittered across the floor, out of reach. Mary sat on her, silently thanking her sisters for the hours of play fighting they’d done as children, trying to be more like the lads.
Seona tried to push her off, pummeling her back and grabbing at her hair.
“Wheesht,” Mary commanded and slapped her. “I’ve had enough of ye to last me a lifetime.”
Seona gasped in shock and quieted just as the guardsman rushed Cameron again, blade poised for a downward strike.
Cameron dodged and thrust his dirk into the guard’s chest. The man fell to his knees, eyes widened in shock as his gaze turned to Seona. Then he lifted his hand to reach for her. With a shudder, he collapsed forward, onto Cameron’s blade.
Seona screamed and thrashed, finally shoving Mary off of her.
