Page 57 of Much Ado About a Scot

The king stumbled backward and would have fallen had Alan MacGilvaine not been there to catch him.

Isobel clutched her hand to her mouth, trying to hold back a wave of nausea. They would hang her despite her innocence, simply because Bothwell had spoken to the king as no one ever had before?

“This is not justice! Isobel Seaton is innocent.” Xander burst from his chair and turned to her. The desperate love in his face was painful to see and Isobel could no longer stop the tide that threatened. She reached for her solicitor’s hat and vomited into it.

Freya was beside Isobel in a moment, offering her a square of linen to wipe her mouth. Isobel nodded her thanks as she focused on breathing slowly in and out in an effort to settle her stomach.

The Earls of Atholl and Gowrie bolted for the door, their rattling chains cutting through the chaos. The villagers, eager to see justice served, stopped them and hauled them kicking and writhing back toward the front of the chamber.

The only calm in the storm that whirled around them was Lord Bothwell. He remained seated, watching as the tragedy played out before him like one of Shakespeare’s plays. A calculated look entered his eyes as he watched his cousin try to regain control of himself.

Desperate to stop the chaos, the Lord Advocate stepped on top of the magistrates’ table so he could be seen and heard by the entire chamber. He sent out a shrill whistle that had the desired effect. The noise settled until it was finally silent.

“Everyone, calm yourselves,” he pleaded. “There will be no hangings this day. It is our duty as the law of this land to see that every protocol is followed. While that last interaction was quite unusual, it did help to speed along our tribunal. Lord Bothwell is correct. All witchcraft charges against him must be immediately dismissed given that the witness is no longer living, but the charge of high treason remains. David Graham has given damaging testimony against you. How do you respond?”

Slowly, he turned toward King James. “My response is that it is all lies, fabricated by my cousin to rid himself of the threat I pose to him. Should anything happen to my cousin, I am next in line to succeed to the throne until such a time that James has a child of his own.” He offered James a coy smile. “A task that seems quite arduous for my poor cousin.”

Fury and dismay registered on King James’s face. “Where are my men? Where are my Magnificent Seven? Why do they allow my cousin to talk to me in this way? Strike him down.”

Reid, Quinn, Lachlan, Cameron, Rhys and Malcolm were at the back of the chamber. Only Xander was near the king. “By your hand we were sworn to keep the laws of this land, Your Grace. You yourself established these tribunals as a way to pursue truth and order. We have a duty to keep you safe, but words do not cause mortal wounds. Do you no longer believe in the search for truth and justice? If that is so, then disband these tribunals at once.”

Every eye in the chamber turned toward King James. He knew if he demanded justice through his men by running Francis Stewart through with a sword, he would lose control of his entire kingdom. Francis Stewart would have won this day in history and James would be remembered as a murderous, witch-hunting king.

King James nodded stiffly to the Lord Advocate. “I will leave Bothwell’s fate up to you and the panel of judges.” He turned stiffly to face Isobel. “As for you—”

“Your Grace.” Freya moved toward the king and threw herself at his feet. “This woman must be set free immediately.”

King James sat forward in his chair and regarded Freya with curiosity before he lifted his gaze to Isobel. “Everyone around you is so devoted. I could learn a lesson or two from you. So why are you to be spared?”

Isobel drew a breath, trying to settle her stomach once more. “Because I suspect I am with child. And if I am, the innocent child within me does not deserve death by hanging no matter what my fate is to be.”

King James frowned. “Do you love this baby’s father?”

She shifted her gaze to Xander. “Aye, Your Grace. With all my heart.”

A grin lit Xander’s face as he reached for her. “A baby?”

She nodded, giving herself over to the unrestrained joy that tumbled though her. “Our baby.”

He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head.

“This is all very touching,” Lord Bothwell drawled. “But could we return to the part where the judges decide our innocence or guilt?”

King James nodded for the Lord Advocate to proceed. “Since it is obvious that the king cannot be impartial with regard to his relative in this matter, I would ask John Goodfellow to take his place on the judges’ panel.”

The men seated at the magistrates’ table stood and gathered near where John Goodfellow had been. With their white heads bent, they discussed the outcome of both her and Francis Stewart’s lives.

“A baby?” Xander whispered as he pressed yet another kiss to her temple. “You, Jamie, and this baby are everything I ever wished for in this life and didn’t think I deserved. I—”

“We have a verdict.” The judges returned to their seats, standing this time in front of the table. Xander said nothing more but he took her hand in his as they all stood to hear the findings. Isobel’s heart was beating so hard she could feel its thunder in every part of her body.

The Lord Advocate cleared his throat. “Isobel Seaton, regardless of the pregnancy that would have freed you temporarily from hanging, this tribunal finds you not guilty of any of the charges of witchcraft brought before this court.”

“Francis Stewart, Earl of Bothwell . . .”

A hushed silence fell over the chamber, and everyone leaned closer, waiting.

“This court finds you not guilty of the charge of high treason.”