Page 25 of A Laird and a Gentleman

“Then why can I still feel malevolence coming from below?”

Nessie’s eyes narrowed and a frown creased her brow. “I cannot be certain, but m’laird has yet to hear their grievances. Perhaps when he does, that feeling will change.”

“Perhaps,” Mariam replied, knowing she could no longer delay doing what Cameron had demanded of her. She stood beside the bed and allowed Nessie to remove her wet jacket. As the older woman loosened the laces at the back of her riding habit, Mariam could still feel the lingering effects of Cameron’s kiss upon her lips. How was it possible to experience both despair and joy at the same moment?

With a sigh, she resigned herself to do what must be done. She would go belowstairs and confront whatever awaited.

Chapter Seven

A quarter of an hour later, Mariam descended the stairs and entered the great hall. Upon seeing her, Cameron waved her forward and invited her to sit on the dais in a chair next to him. His steward stood beside him with parchment, an inkpot, and a quill in hand.

Mariam took a seat at Cameron’s side. Without taking his gaze from those before him, he settled his hand over hers. So little a thing, so harmless and yet the feel of his skin against hers made her heart flutter in her chest.

Trying to distract herself, she looked to the crowd before her, and yet it was one particular pair of eyes that caught her attention. Thea stood off to the side from the line that had formed in front of Cameron. Resentment darkened Thea’s complexion as she stared back at Mariam for a long moment before turning to address the young man standing next to her. The two of them looked as though they were a pair with similar dark eyes and dark hair. A brother perhaps?

With a stab of remorse, Mariam realized she never knew Thea had family in the village. That information was never offered, and Mariam had failed to ask. She and Thea still had not yet talked about the events earlier that morning. When they did, Mariam intended to ask more questions about Thea’s family and their situation. It might not be too late to rectify the anger and resentment she’d seen in both of their eyes.

She glanced about the chamber once more, noting several men and women who had come up from the village to talk to their laird. None of them looked particularly threatening as her dream had led her to believe. But something still didn’t feel right.

Someone else was there in the chamber, someone who chose not to reveal themselves. Refusing to let her mind form ideas about who it might be, she focused her attention on the men and women who came forward, laying before the laird how they felt they had been wronged by the court of justice, the local commission set up by the privy council, and her own father.

The man Mariam suspected was Thea’s brother approached the dais. Thea was no longer by his side. He stood tall and straight, not offering Cameron any sort of acknowledgment of his status. The man’s features were inexpressive—even the faint smile he wore did not reach his dark eyes. “My name’s Kendric Burns. My sister Thea works as a lady’s maid to your ward.” The man’s dark eyes narrowed on Mariam.

Mariam shifted forward, hoping there was something she could learn that might give her a way to help Thea in the future.

“What have you to tell me about your situation?” Cameron prompted when the man failed to continue as the others had upon reaching the front of the line.

“Despite her innocence, this woman’s father sent my ma tae the flames.” His face flushed as he pointed at Mariam. “My ma was a good woman, never hurtin’ anyone. She delivered the babes in the village until they took her away to Haddington.”

Cameron did not react to the angry outburst. “I am sorry for your loss,” he said calmly. Sympathy echoed in his every word. “What did they charge your mother with?”

“The Widow Banncock accused her of puttin’ a spell on her pregnant daughter and her grandchildren. The children fell ill, but recovered after a time. Her daughter did so as well, but the baby was born too early and died in her mother’s arms.” The rumble of conversation from those gathered increased.

Cameron raised his hand to silence them. “’Twas a blessing so many of those who had fallen ill recovered.”

“They came for my mother the next night.”

“What happened to the Widow Banncock?” Cameron asked.

Kendric’s stubbled face darkened. “They took her away as well. The old hag was interrogated by John Swinton, who found a witch’s mark upon her and sent her to the noose.”

“And your mother was sent to the flames?”

Kendric nodded with a jerk of his head. “’Twas bad enough they took her from us, but before the next moon cycle had completed, my father and I were sent a full account of the expenses for her imprisonment and trial. They charged us for watching her in the gaol, her pricking, food and drink for the guards, sackcloth for her to wear before she was taken to the stake, for two trees used to make the stake and pyre, the workmen’s expenses and food.”

The young man’s voice rose as he continued. “For the horse and wagon used to bring her from the gaol to the stake, the tar used to burn her, and for the expenses of the officials at her trial. They presented a bill for ninety shillings. Funds we did not have to spare.” His face was a mottled red as he turned and raised a hand to encompass all those in the line behind him. “They charged all of us for our loved ones’ imprisonment, trial, and murder.”

“I can understand your frustration and your pain. The loss of your mother was significant. You did not need any further burden placed upon you.” Cameron’s brows creased in thought as he addressed Kendric and the others. “I would like to make restitution to each of you in the amount of five pounds sterling each.”

A gasp of amazement came from the crowd, followed by the rumble of excited conversation.

Cameron waited until the chatter died down before continuing. “That sum should allow you to pay what you have been billed and have enough left to help you build a new life. I still wish to hear each of your petitions individually so that I might know how you and your loved ones have suffered.”

There was only gentleness in his voice. How odd that a warrior who filled his days with strife and conflict could also be so kind. True, he had an obligation to his people, but what he did here went well beyond what even they expected.

Mariam watched for the next hour as Cameron listened to each and every petition with interest and concern. Hobbins wrote each name in a ledger and sent them to the back of the chamber where four of Cameron’s men waited to pay each what the laird had promised.

The chamber and the castle emptied as they each returned to their homes. It was only when the chamber had nearly emptied that Mariam noticed a man wearing a hooded cloak standing near one of the tall thin windows. When the last villager had left, the unknown visitor came forward. As he did, an icy chill shuddered through her. She knew that walk, that silhouette.