Maggie Mine (27 page)

“You held the dagger in your hand,” Gerald said forcefully. “I saw it myself. There was blood on your hands.”

She drew in a breath and sadly shook her head. “And there couldna have been another reason I held it?”

Her glance shifted in anger back to Nicholas. “I canna live here after this.” Her chin went up. “If I get a chance to live free again, that is. Or to live at all.”

Everything had just taken another turn for the worse. What hope Nicholas had started to feel about saving his marriage disappeared. She’d been immediately doubted, although the evidence had been damning, he couldn’t deny that. People she’d trusted had turned on her. She
ha
d been tossed in one of the dungeon’s cells for three days and all but forgotten. Being locked in the tower was better, but still had to be beyond disheartening.
God almighty
. Making things right between them again seemed an impossible task.

The strained silence was interrupted as they all heard the loud hoofbeats clambering over the wooden drawbridge outside. Gerald stiffened, his expression grew even grimmer. Richard, too, appeared extremely uneasy. Nicholas knew the already serious situation had just gotten much more complicated. Brodie could be a difficult man to deal with at the best of times. These were certainly not those times.

“Take her to the tower, Sir Richard,” Nicholas said on a heavy sigh. “Gerald, bring Lord Urquhart to me.”

*
*
*

With her hands bound once more in front of her, shame filled Maggie as she walked away from the man she’d started to love. She’d seen in his eyes he didn’t believe her guilty. At least she thought she’d seen that. Yet she’d noticed his frown when Gerald had stated he’d seen the dagger in her hand. Doubt in her again? She knew how it had looked. Yet she would have expected them to listen to her protests.

Hurt and anger curled in her empty belly. She had meant what she’d said; she wouldn’t stay here, couldn’t. If she was proven innocent, the memory of all of this would be too much to bear. It hurt deeply that no one seemed to believe her, even if she hadn’t actually told them her complete side of what had happened. But no one had given her a chance. She swallowed hard against the disappointment she felt clear to her bones.

Going down the circular stone stairs was difficult. She stumbled several times, losing her balance and having to awkwardly reach for the wall to keep from tumbling head first to the bottom. Richard reached for her every time she had to catch herself, but she hissed at him. She didn’t want his help. She wanted no one’s help now other than her brother’s. He was the only one she could trust.

Her heart pinched. Had his memories come back? Was that why he’d come here? To save the sister who loved him with every breath in her body. She prayed that was so.

When she finally reached the bottom of the stairs, the eyes of the couple dozen or so people sitting at various tables in the great hall all looked in her direction. Hostility and a longing for justice emanated from many of them. A few people looked questioning, possibly not wanting to believe the worst of her. None, though, appeared friendly. She froze, finding it difficult to walk across the room toward the door and out to the tower to be imprisoned again.

Richard took her arm and urged her forward. “You can do this,” he said quietly.

She drew in a steadying breath and forced back tears so near the surface. They’d only taken a few steps when she heard loud, angry voices just outside the keep’s doors. She recognized the deep threatening rumble of her brother’s voice. Relief swarmed over her.

“Move aside or I’ll slit ye from gut to neck!” Brodie warned.

Every soldier in the hall stood and reached for their weapons.

“Nay!” Maggie pleaded, hurrying forward, dragging Richard with her.

Looking bigger and brawnier than any man at Middleham, Brodie stormed into the doorway, standing imposingly as he let his eyes adjust to the dimmer light.

Alive! Thank God!
Maggie savored the sight of her beloved brother. She’d been determined all this time to believe he lived, but it had been hard. Her knees gave out as she collapsed in relief. Tears streamed down her face.

Richard bent over her, concern on his face. She shook her head against his help. “No, don’t touch me.”

Brodie strode into the hall, wearing a kilt with a swath of the plaid of his clan over his right shoulder, and a bare chest. Muscles bulged and rippled as he shifted, looked around, dismissed the armed soldiers facing him. His gaze found her sitting on the stone floor. His brow furrowed. “Maggie? Maggie of Urquhart?” he asked uncertainly.

He doesn’t know me.
The realization flowed over her, tightening her throat as she nodded.
Oh God.

Gerald stepped beside him, clearly uncomfortable. “Allow him entry,” he told his men. “Lower your weapons.”

Reluctantly weapons were lowered, although a thick tension hung in the air.

Brodie moved slowly toward her. Behind him, Gerald moved from the doorway and a lot of the men who’d ridden with Brodie walked grimly into the hall, including Douglas. They were armed, but their weapons were also lowered. Still, the tension only grew thicker.

When Brodie stopped in front of Maggie, he carefully pulled her to her feet. Richard stood guardedly a few feet away. The man so many men feared even hearing his name spoken studied her with grimness, and with a clear lack of recognition. But, when he glowered at Richard, there was no doubt of his fury.

“The ropes chaff her wrists.” He lifted a massive hand to ever so gently touch the bruise on her face. “Ye’ve beaten her.” He growled, sounding much like an angry bear. “I should kill ye fer this alone.”

Then he looked again at her arms and saw the blood-stained bandage around her forearm and pure fury spread over his hard, chiseled face. It seemed to be the breaking point for his tolerance. If she didn’t intervene, someone would die.

Maggie turned her head and kissed his palm, hoping to calm him. He immediately stiffened and lifted his surprised gaze to her. “I wasna beaten, Brother.”

The word “brother” made his forehead pinch as if in pain, made sadness flicker in his dark eyes. “I wish to me soul, lass, that I recognized ye.”

He looked menacingly at Richard again. “Jist because I dinna ken the lass I’m told is me sister, doesna mean I will
no’
fight to the death fer her. Or me men, either.”

While she hugged his words to her heart, she knew she didn’t want him risking his life for hers. In truth, she didn’t want anyone to die because of her. Except for the real guilty party.

Then he turned to Nicholas’s wary soldiers and his stern-faced clansmen. The infamous Great Scottish Devil stood before them, a man who never backed down from a fight. “Be warned, even now more than 500
h
ighlanders are riding this way. What wrongs have been done to the Lady of Urquhart will be set to right. Yer English lord should no’ have stolen her away from her home.”

Rumblings began in the large hall. Maggie didn’t want a war here fought for the wrong reasons, or for any reason. She reached for Brodie and snagged his attention. “Nicholas dinna steal me away. The English king ordered me brought here,” she spoke the words bitterly. At his continued frown, she added, “It appears Douglas dinna tell ye, but I’m the Lady of Middleham now. Nicholas is m
y
husband. ‘Twas ordered by their English king.”

His chest puffed out in anger. His jaw tightened. She should not have let her disgust with King Edward come out. But what he’d done, having her taken from her home, had been the first step toward this tragedy she now faced.

Adding to the problematic situation, Mary stepped up from somewhere behind them. “Lord Middleham is her husband
for now
. But when she hangs…
.
”

Before the foolish woman could finish her sentence, Maggie moved between Mary and her brother. She’d heard his growl, seen his muscled body tense ready to spring at the woman. Maggie said firmly, “Ye will control yerself, Brother. If ye strangle the stupid wench as I see in yer eyes ye want to do, ye will only hang beside me.”

He still looked ready to reach for Mary, who now had the good sense to scramble backward. “Ye will
no’
hang!”

“Then ye will have to prove my
innocence.” Maggie looked slowly around the hall, letting the soldiers and servants of Middleham now watching see her disdain for them all. “Because I
ha
ve not a soul here who believes me.”

Again he growled and narrowed his eyes. “I will. Then ye’ll come back home to Urquhart where ye belong. Where people would
no’
turn on ye so easily.” He spit at Richard’s foot. “’Tis what I think of the people here.”

When Richard would have spoken or done something in retaliation, Maggie shifted between the two big men. “Enough! Take me to the tower.” She looked directly at Brodie, “Control yer men. Control yerself. Talk to Nicholas, he was once yer friend.”

“Even if that were once true, he isna any more.”

She blew out a breath of frustration. “Speak to him. Calmly. This must be settled soon.” She swallowed hard. “When I’m proven innocent, I will gladly leave here with ye. I would
no’
ever stay here after this.”

He gave a curt nod and she forced her feet to take her across the tension-filled hall. None of the people of Middleham could meet her eyes. She held her head proudly and walked with Richard toward the door. She hoped that somehow her brother could hold his temper and find a way to make peace with Nicholas, find a way to save her life. She truly didn’t want to die.

*
*
*

Nicholas stood in the shadows near the bottom of the stairs. He
ha
d felt certain that he had to come down here to prevent a war breaking out in his great hall. He
ha
d known Brodie could be volatile and deadly when on the defensive. With Brodi
e
’s confused state of mind, he
ha
d feared the worst. Hearing his friend’s continued lack of knowing who he was…hearing him declare Nicholas no longer a friend either way, had cut him deeply. Yet he understood. The man, even not knowing his sister at the moment, would wreck havoc to defend her. In the same circumstance, Nicholas would do the same.

He sucked in a breath against the pain throbbing through his body. Pulling on his braies had been a nearly impossible chore, but he’d managed it. He
ha
d not even attempted to don the tunic. Then coming down the stairs had almost done him in, but, again, he’d done it. Now he had to face Brodie.

He heard the grumblings begin among his men. Heard a man rage out, “We know who attacked our lord. She dares to walk among us. She should hang. Now.”

Nicholas didn’t recognize the voice, but then he was still getting to know his new soldiers. But as others began picking up on what the man had said and Brodie roared in fury, he knew it was time to stop this before it got out of hand.

He forced himself to climb down the final six steps. The second he did, a gasp from some of the nearby servants startled the other people nearby into silence. Hundreds of eyes turned in his direction. The only pair he sought was Maggie’s. His heart pounded in fear when he saw a pair of burly soldiers shoving Richard aside and grabbing her arms, one on either side of her.

Immediately the Scots began raising weapons, as did the men of Middleham.

“Release her!” Nicholas bellowed at the same time Brodie did.

When the men merely froze and still held her, Nicholas somehow found the strength to grab a knife from the man nearest him and strode toward his wife. “I will cut your hands off if you don’t release her immediately.”

Brodie was at his side with his own wicked-looking knife. “And I will gut you before you can take another breath.”

The soldiers scowled and glared across the room at someone, and then let her go.

Nicholas dropped his knife and pulled Maggie into his embrace, grimacing, but unconcerned with the pain. He didn’t feel like he
ha
d even breathed the few minutes the men had held his wife prisoner. He felt Brodie bristling close by, but didn’t care. He needed to hold her.

Silence filled the room as all watched him with his wife. Some of the tension seemed to fade away, but not all of it. There were still those who didn’t approve, wanted her to face a quick judgment and consequent sentencing. He didn’t understand why they were so determined to accuse her, condemn her. Except for the fact that she’d been found holding the dagger he’d been attacked with. All right, that was a serious piece of evidence of her guilt.

She stiffened in his arms and tried to squirm free. “Even ye doubted me, husband. Mayhap still do.” Her tone was quiet, echoing grave disappointment. “Talk to me brother now. I have nay more to say to ye.” Then she jerked away and he saw the tears in her eyes. “No’ that ye’ve listened to me at all. Nor has anyone else.”

Suddenly Fia and the cook followed by a half dozen kitchen helpers came running and shoving through the crowd of uneasy men. Fia skidded to a stop in front of Brodie, her eyes widening. “Ye did come! I ken ye would.”