She opened her mouth to deny his assumption, then decided 'haps that was the best story to go with. She snapped her mouth shut.
Norval crossed his arms over his chest. "The men said you were speaking all manner of wicked spells and turning people into animals."
"'Tis ridiculous!" she blurted. "I wish I could do those things."
"I saw it with mine own eyes, m'lady," MacClure accused. "You turned into a raven. And he was a mouse!" He pointed the sword at Alpin.
"What preposterous lies he tells! Toss him into the dungeon," Wilona shouted.
Making no move, Norval narrowed his eyes. How could he disrespect her so?
"Your brother must be turning in his grave that you would treat me thusly," she said.
"'Haps he is, if his spirit is looking down on such wickedness as you carry out."
Rage crawled over Wilona, and she considered turning him into a worm. "You would dare to insult me? I was your superior."
"But nay longer. Confess!" he demanded. "Have you turned to witchcraft and evil?"
"Nay!" she shrieked. "Leave us!"
Norval shook his head with slow smugness. "I'm taking you to Duncorry, where I can keep an eye on you."
"I refuse! This dower castle is my home, provided by my husband, and I shall remain here."
"This is the clan's castle, to use as we see fit, and has been so for over a hundred years. And you, m'lady, will nay have your freedom to live on MacRae lands until you prove yourself worthy of it. You're casting evil spells. What if the king should get wind of it?"
She snorted at such a ludicrous notion. "He's in London. He'll nay hear anything from the wilds of the Highlands."
"His majesty has agents all over Scotland, and lest you forget, his father was a famous witch hunter. I'll nay allow you to bring the wrath of the king onto the MacRae clan."
She glared at him, wishing she could send him to the fires of hell instantly.
"If you think to curse me, I shall turn you in to the king's agents forthwith," Norval warned.
"Even if I did ken how to place curses, I would never do such to you." She pretended submissiveness but considered ways she might indeed make his life miserable.
"In that case, you have two choices. Either come with us to Duncorry or go elsewhere. I'm nay allowing you to stay here."
Outrage burned within her. "This is my home! You cannot evict me."
"As the chief, I can and I am."
"Your brother would string you up for such callousness," she snarled.
"'Tis only because I was close to my brother that I'm being this lenient."
"I'll go elsewhere," she snapped. She would never willingly be his prisoner.
Norval turned to Alpin. "She's your responsibility."
Alpin merely glowered.
"I'll leave guards here to make certain you stay away," Norval added.
Wilona straightened her shoulders and glared at him. "I ken well why you allow Gavin MacTavish and his cronies to get away with murder—because you coveted the MacRae chieftainship yourself. You never wanted my son to be chief!"
"MacTavish and his friends were innocent on the count of murder," Norval said. "I ken the truth of the conflict—Silas and Alpin were the ones who carried out the ambush—but you will nay see reason."
