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Alistair shook his head. "I canna say. But she must have done it."

"But when did she find time to send a message?" Jemmy insisted "And whyever would Brodie have agreed?"

"If she said she meant to go back to him, he would have met her."

"All right, that is possible," Jemmy conceded. "So she got him to the field, then struck him down and left your dagger in his back?"

"She panicked," Alistair said. "'Twould be natural enough."

"And now? You think she will keep silent and let you hang?"

Alistair made no answer.

"Then why did she not let Kinnon string you up right then and there?"

"'Twould have been better if she had," Alistair said bitterly. "Now we must go through some sort of trial. When it comes to the point, show no mercy, Jemmy. Just do what ye must...and then think of it no more."

"Thank you. 'Tis all quite clear now. How fortunate I still have you to tell me what to do! How will I ever manage when you are gone?"

Alistair did not answer. As though the last of his strength was gone, he sat down and buried his face in his hands. Jemmy took a deep breath, then released it slowly.

"Alistair?"

"Aye?"

"You are a fool. Ah, there look, he comes to life! But 'tis the simple truth."

"Think what ye like," Alistair said tightly.

"Do you seriously believe Deirdre murdered Brodie and is sitting silent while you take the blame for it? You wrong her. Do you really think she had no honor?"

Alistair looked away.

"Deirdre would never have done such a thing," Jemmy said with conviction. "Oh, I can well believe she would kill Brodie—how can I not when she said so herself? And that's the point, isn't it? She told us, Alistair, she said straight out what she meant to do. And I believe that if she was desperate enough, if he drove her to it, she would have done it. But not like this. To stab him in the back, then say nothing when an innocent man was taken? When the man is the one she loves?"

Alistair remained silent, his face averted.

"Do you not know that? How can you not, when 'tis plain to every one of us? How could you doubt her?"

Jemmy stood, studiously turning his back on his kinsman.

"Christ's wounds," he grumbled, pacing across the floor to peer through the tiny barred window. "I'll have this place torn down, I swear it. Well?" he added after a moment. "Have you naught to say?"

"If Deirdre did not do it, it means...it must mean..."

"That we have to find the person who did, and we have not got much time," Jemmy said, resuming his seat. "Now, you say you gave her the dagger, but I never saw her carry it. What if she left it in her chamber? Anyone could have picked it up. What if Calder—"

Alistair shook his head. "Calder could not get in there. Not with Finn about."

"Then someone she invited inside," Jemmy suggested. "Fitzgerald?"

"Fitzgerald," Alistair said, his hand tightening into a fist.

"I think Lady Maxwell cares for you far more than you realize," Jemmy said gently. "I will wager Fitzgerald thinks so, too. This would have been the perfect chance for him to be rid of both you and Brodie."

"Aye, it could have happened that way."

"Let's get the harper in here and ask him a few questions."