Page 34 of A Temptress in Tartan

Her father pushed the minister forward. “This man of God will be only too happy to relay what evils you have wrought on your journey to this castle with my innocent daughter. The elders are here as witnesses.”

The minister cleared his throat as he unrolled a parchment scroll. “Lachlan Douglas, I have a warrant for your arrest. You are charged with multiple counts of sorcery. The charges are as follows: You gave a potion to Bessie Broun at the Buckhaven Inn that sent her into convulsions, as though she herself was possessed by demons. There are witnesses who heard you use magical chants to calm her. Other witnesses claimed you nearly sacrificed your own wife in your marriage bed while at Ravenscraig Castle. We have the blood-soaked linens as proof of the tale.” The minister’s gaze shifted to Elizabeth. “’Tis glad I am you survived that trauma, child.”

“Nay!” Elizabeth protested. “You are wrong. I—”

“Leave it be, Elizabeth,” Lachlan interrupted. A warning flashed through his eyes. He did not want her to say anything that might implicate her.

But she could not hold her tongue entirely. “He is not a warlock. I know this!”

The minister’s accusing gaze moved back to Lachlan as he continued. “On the Firth of Forth you caused the sea to churn and drowned Dillon Kemp, and you almost claimed the life of Thomas Cockburn. There are multiple witnesses who heard you call out an enchantment that capsized the small fishing vessel near your mighty ship.”

Elizabeth listened, with a growing sense of unreality. All the charges they’d read so far were fabrications drawn from only parts of the actual truth.

“And finally,” the minister droned on, “while in Aberlady at the Cairn Inn, you changed yourself into your familiar form—that of a black cat—as you escorted your wife to the inn to partake in a meal.”

“Nay!” Elizabeth said with despair. “That was an actual barn cat. I was in the presence of both Lachlan and the cat at the same time.”

The minister met her gaze. “The Devil is capable of many things. I suspect appearing in two forms at once is but an easy task for one so powerful.” He cleared his throat once more and straightened. He held out the order of arrest and read:

“In whereas the honorable Roland Carswell, Mistresses Bessie Broun, Jane and Meg Wenham, Mariam Swinton, and the crew of the fishing vessel The Four Winds have appeared before us and made significant complaints against Lachlan Douglas, the Earl of March, for suspicion of witchcraft, and injury done to Bessie Broun and Dillon Kemp, and contrary to the peace sought by our Sovereign rulers, James and Anne, King and Queen of Scotland, you are therefore required to turn yourself over to be examined and interviewed. Failure to comply will be at your own peril. Signed, Hugh Godfrey, in accordance with the Privy Council of Scotland on behalf of King James VI.”

There was a collective intake of breath, and a low murmur that followed as those present talked among themselves. Reid stepped between the minister and Lachlan. “This cannot be. Lachlan Douglas is one of the king’s favored warriors. The king would never seek his arrest.”

“Unless the king believes the Earl of March truly is a warlock,” one of the elders, a balding man with mottled cheeks, spoke for the group. “We have sent word to His Grace at Falkland. If he agrees you should be released, he will send word to us, I am certain. Until then, you are still required to submit yourself to us and our examination.”

Reid turned and gripped both Lachlan’s arms. “The men and I will clear the way for your escape. Leave here at once and go to Kinmount House with Quinn and Vivian. By royal decree, Kinmount is designated as a sanctuary for all who might be accused as a witch or a warlock. Even James cannot touch you there.”

Lachlan stood tall as a bleak silence fell over the chamber. “I will not run from this. To do so would make me appear as though I am guilty. I am not.” He turned toward Donald Ruthven. “This is a ploy by a dangerous man to try and subdue his enemy with the least effort possible.”

“This is folly and conjecture,” Reid added. “’Tis insulting that it is being taken seriously.” Reid paced back and forth in front of Lachlan as he branded each elder with an angry glare. “You would not dare take him to the tribunal.”

“Did you hear that?” her father asked. “I believe Reid Douglas just threatened the elders gathered here. Perhaps we can expand that arrest warrant to include Reid Douglas as well?”

“Nay, Reid,” Lucy cried, coming to her husband’s side. “You cannot help your cousin if you are also in gaol. Please, stand down.”

Reid hesitated a moment, then released a harsh breath. “I will go to the king myself, with all due haste,” he said to Lachlan.

The tallest of the elders drew a pair of iron manacles from a satchel he carried over his shoulder and held them out to Lachlan. “In the meanwhile, you must come with us.”

Elizabeth looked up at her husband, her eyes filled with misery and disbelief. “What can I do? How can I help?”

Lachlan ignored the manacles as he took her icy hands in his. “Stay here. Be strong. I am a great believer in the truth.”

“Where are you taking him?” Elizabeth asked.

“To the tolbooth in Haddington,” the minister replied.

Elizabeth did not take her eyes from Lachlan while they secured the manacles around his wrists and snapped them tight before jerking him into motion toward the doorway and through a path created by his men. They were taking him to gaol.

Lachlan’s eyes were wide, yet unseeing, staring past them all as if focusing instead on the horror he suspected was ahead. With every step, the chains that bound him rattled, the jarring, sound echoing deep in her soul.

Chapter Eleven

Oblivious to the chaos around her, Elizabeth paced as her thoughts spun. There was guilt—terrible, gut-wrenching guilt—that her father had done this to Lachlan. But there was also an emptiness she did not understand.

Her father’s voice cut through the turmoil. “I’ll teach you to say no to me. Get your things, Lizzie. We are leaving.”

Elizabeth startled at the barely concealed outrage on her father’s face. “I told you before and I’ll tell you again, nay. I am no longer your concern.”