This time James let the commotion in the hall go unchecked while he motioned for his sergeant to come near. The two conversed, and then the crier called the hall to order.
Vaughn Hargrave smiled at Tavish openly.
“Do you deny this claim, as well, Cameron?” the king asked. “It seems to me that you should be running out of excuses by now.”
Tavish could feel the noose tightening around his own neck. “Frang Roy was found dead yesterday before your arrival, my liege. I do not know the circumstances of his death. He was the source of much discord about Roscraig.”
“You took care of that inconvenience as well, did you not?” Niall Keane shouted.
Vaughn Hargrave leisurely rose to his feet. “If His Majesty will allow it, I feel I might shed some light on this sorrowful and dark scenario.”
James stared at Hargrave for a long moment, and Tavish thought there was a chance he would deny the man his say.
“If it is relevant, Lord Hargrave, proceed.”
“It pains me to hear Miss Douglas at all associated with the diabolical goings-on at Roscraig. I am sure she had no knowledge at all of Master Cameron’s plot. It was she who assisted in the search by discovering the one gown missing in Miss Keane’s wardrobe.”
James raised an eyebrow. “How is this relevant to Master Cameron’s guilt, Hargrave?”
“Because the gown missing was a special costume meant to be worn by Miss Keane at her wedding, Your Majesty. And it is common knowledge that Master Cameron’s true sire, Thomas Annesley, whom the court may see as a young boy in the portrait above you, murdered my daughter, Cordelia, on the eve of what would have been their wedding day.”
Rather than erupt in chaos, the crowd in the hall was horrified into silence.
“He did not kill Audrey,” Glenna’s voice rang out. Tavish turned to see her standing, her fists clenched at her side. “Tavish Cameron was outside my dying father’s door all the night, guarding us from the likes of your villainy.”
“Sit down, Miss Douglas. Your testimony has no weight in this matter.” James leaned both arms onto the table. “Are you suggesting, Hargrave, that Master Cameron has murdered that poor young woman in the same fashion in which you accuse his father?”
“I am, Your Majesty,” Hargrave said with a bow. “I beg your pardon for Miss Douglas’s sake—Cameron has filled her head with promises in light of her father’s illness, and has played to her gentle emotions. She knows not what she says.” Then he sat down once more.
The king looked into Tavish’s eyes, and Tavish could see the coldness there, the decision already made. He could hear quiet sobs in the hall, and he knew they belonged to Mam.
He was a dead man.
“Have you any rebuttal for this accusation, Cameron?”
Tavish swallowed. “I did not know Thomas Annesley,” he began. “I know nothing of his crimes or his guilt. I did not harm Audrey Keane. I never would. And, God help me, I don’t know where she is.”
The king leaned back with a sigh. “It pains me. A great deal, in fact,” he began, “to see such potential—”
The king was interrupted by a commotion in the back of the hall. He leaned his head slightly to the side to see past Tavish.
Tavish turned, and his knees nearly buckled at the sight of Captain John Muir in the doorway.
Audrey Keane stood at his side.
* * * *
Glenna’s hands flew to cover her cry of exclamation in the same moment that Niall Keane’s strangled shout pierced the air of the hall.
“Audrey!” The portly man ran toward his daughter and enveloped her in his sobbing embrace.
A shriek of dismay went up, and Glenna’s head turned to see a clutch of people bending over the collapsed form of Lord Hargrave’s mistress.
The court was in chaos.
“She’s only fainted,” Hargrave was assuring those nearest, irritation high in his voice.
“Call for my physician,” the king commanded.
