Page 17 of A Laird and a Gentleman

Kendric’s eyes narrowed. “But the man is very proud of his name and his role in the witch trials. Through the girl we can tarnish his name and his reputation.”

Niall frowned. “And how are we supposed tae do that? We’d have tae find a way tae accuse the girl of being a witch.”

Jimmy laughed. “That would be rich—the witch pricker harboring a witch in his own house.”

Thea clenched her fingers together. “It might nae be as impossible as ye think. Mariam Swinton might very well be a witch.”

All three men gaped at her. “What makes ye say such a thing? Those are terrible words tae be throwin’ around these days,” Niall asked with a scowl. “’Twas Agnes Sampson that accused my ma of bein’ a witch, even though she wasn’t. Then Swinton tortured my ma ’til she admitted tae bein’ a witch just tae make him stop.”

Jimmy’s eyes went wide. “Are ye sayin’ ye saw her doin’ the ’craft?”

“Nae exactly. There was no conjurin’ or spells,” Thea replied. “But I saw something strange, something unexplainable. Milady was able tae call sheep tae her from afar without any words or motions. The whole flock simply ran tae her, as though they were eager fer their mother’s milk.”

“We could hardly call her a witch fer that,” Niall said, contemplating the liquid in his tankard. “The last thing anyone needs, is tae bring a false claim on the laird’s ward. Cameron Sinclair is a powerful man, with a strong army, and is associated with a band of brothers who answer only tae the king. What chance do any of us have tae go against that fer the sake of one odd occurrence?”

“Don’t dismiss her claim so easily.” A predatory smile flickered like guttering candlelight over her brother’s stubbled face as his gaze shifted between Niall and Jimmy. “Thea is one of Mariam Swinton’s lady’s maids.” He turned to Thea. “Since ye already have access tae the woman, it’s time fer ye tae get all the proof we need tae make such a claim stick. In the meanwhile, I have another idea tae get us, and all the villagers who have been hurt by Swinton, into the castle.” Kendric took a long sip of his ale. When he was done, he sat back with a satisfied smile. “Revenge will be swift and it will be sweet.”

*

The crisp morning air only intensified Cameron’s sense of unease as the sheep moved all of their own accord into the pen in the outer bailey. The entire return home, he kept wondering how Mariam had managed such a feat with so little effort. He would have called it magic if it wasn’t for the fact that her eyes had filled with surprise followed by fear the moment the animals started running at her. A fresh wave of unease moved through him at the memory.

He forced his concentration back to the present just as Mariam dismounted and moved to close the sheep inside the pen. She’d completed her task, and with very little assistance from him. As she closed the latch, he studied her. Her red hair, carefully tied back from her face, was of a fine thickness and fell nearly to her waist. The blue riding habit she wore accentuated her full breasts before skimming the lines of a slim, strong body. Her lips were well formed, and her other features had a pleasant symmetry. Her skin was not the pale alabaster lauded by troubadours, but a delicate ivory with golden tones luminous in the morning light. He’d never noticed her loveliness in such a way before. Had his absence opened his eyes to the woman she truly was instead of simply seeing her as ‘his ward’?

Mariam must have sensed him assessing her, because she turned toward him and met his glance. Fear flashed through her eyes for a heartbeat before defiance took its place. Cameron could feel her tension reach out to him across the distance that separated them.

“Why are you staring at me?” she asked.

He shrugged. “I’m simply taking in the scenery.”

She stiffened. “This task is done. Don’t you have other tasks to attend to this day?”

“There is nothing urgent that needs my attention.” As he strode toward her, her discomfort increased. “I would very much like to spend the day with you, if you are free to do so.”

“The sheep—”

“Will be tended by those who will shear them.” He stopped before her and gave her his most sincere smile. “You’ve done your part, as you promised.”

“Why?” she asked, perplexed. “I’ve been under your care for a year now and you’ve never wanted to spend more time than was necessary with me.”

“I am sorry for that. Allow me to make amends to you now?”

She relaxed as she continued to look up at him with wonder. “What would you have us do? More cleaning? Or do the cattle need to come in from pasture as well?”

“Nothing like that. I know so little about you. I would like to talk as we take a turn through the garden.”

She gave him a weak smile. “If it keeps you from staring at me, then aye.”

But he continued to stare at her, trying to figure out why she looked so much more radiant in the late morning light.

At the realization that his gaze was still upon her, she stiffened once more. “Is there something about me that displeases you? Am I covered in dust?” She ran her hands down the front of her riding habit as though brushing dirt from the fabric.

“There is a twig in your hair,” he said by way of an explanation. It wasn’t why he stared but it would at least comfort her. He reached out and plucked a small twig from her locks before lightly touching her temple.

She stepped back and glanced away. “Shall we head to the garden?”

He offered her his arm and waited until she slipped her hand through before proceeding into the inner bailey and the north side of the castle to the formal garden there. He had never truly appreciated the fact that such a place existed at Ravenscraig Castle until this moment.

The day was fully upon them now, leaving the sky a clear blue. The air was sweet, and yet spiced with the tang of the sea beyond the castle walls. Mariam walked beside him, her cheeks rosy from their morning endeavors.