Page 62 of The Witch of Threadneedle Street

“’Tis treachery.” Lord Haddon whirled, a muscle twitching on his jaw.

“Nay, ‘tis witchcraft,” the captain of the queen’s guard supplied. “’Tis clear she’s casting a spell.”

“A spell?” Taran forced his voice to reflect a calm he did not feel.

“She was seen outside the castle, and now, she’s back again,” the captain replied. “There was no way to enter. The devil himself came to her aid.”

The devil? Taran snorted. “’Tis nonsense.”

“Then, explain this?” the captain pointed the toe of his boot to the mushrooms scattered about the floor. “’Tis the devil’s work.”

Before Taran could respond, the man crushed the mushrooms under his heel.

“No!” Moll gasped.

The sound nearly ripped Taran’s heart from his chest, but he kept his eyes trained on the queen’s captain. “’Tis nonsense. The lot. The lass was with me.”

The captain’s steely gaze latched onto him. “Then you conspire against the queen?”

Taran lifted a cool brow of disdain. “Dare ye utter such false accusations against me?”

The man had the grace to avert his gaze.

“Aye,” Taran murmured. ‘Twas telling. Beneath it all, the man was more talk than anything else. Hardening his voice, Taran warned, “Touch one hair on Moll’s head, and ye’ll not live to see the dawn.”

At the words, the captain’s head snapped back. “I don’t take well to threats, even from nobles, my lord.”

Taran curled his lip and gave a harsh laugh. “’Twasn’t a threat, but a promise, I assure ye.” Then, ignoring the man outright, he turned to Lord Haddon. “Are ye not the master of your own house?”

“’Tis no foolish accusation this man brings.” Lord Haddon bristled. “Moll was seen outside the gates and this very night.”

Taran snorted in cool disdain. “By who?”

“Eldric. ’Twas Eldric, the queen’s man.”

Damnation. “And just who might this Eldric be?”

“’Tis Eldric, the pig-scalder—”

This time, there was no need to feign contempt. “A pig-scalder? Dare ye take the word of a pig-scalder over my own?” Taran lifted his brow in challenge. “I’ll say it again and for the last time. Moll was with me.”

Lord Haddon cleared his throat and as if in apology said, “I’ve my heir to protect, MacKenzie.”

“’Tis the queen’s safety that is at stake,” the queen’s guard snapped. Nodding at his men, he ordered, “Take her away.”

Before they could move, Taran stepped forward, blocking their path. “Walk with care, Haddon,” he warned in a low voice. “Know I am a vengeful man.”

The man drew a sharp breath. “I obey the queen.”

Taran leveled him a look. Once, he very well might have said those words himself. No more. “Only a fool follows blindly.”

They faced each other with jaws locked and gazes wary.

“Join me in my chamber until we reach the heart of the matter,” Lord Haddon said before turning to the captain. “Moll will wait here.”

‘Twas clear the captain much preferred to toss Moll into a cell, but at Taran’s scowl, he clamped his mouth shut, apparently thinking much better of the idea.

“Very well,” he muttered before addressing his men. “For now, the witch stays here. Guard her well.” He pointed to the corner and added, “She’ll stay there, away from the tools of her craft.”