Page 88 of Sins of the Highlander

Now she’d see if he could be a useful young fool.

“Of course, Mrs. Beaton. I live to serve the souls here,” he said. “But please be brief. I was heading to my pallet. We who keep the canonical hours dinna get much sleep, ye ken. What’s this about?”

“Well, I’m usually not one to carry tales, but some troubling matters have come to my attention.”

“Troubling? In what manner?”

“In a spiritual manner, Father, else I’d not have come to ye,” she said primly. “I greatly fear an evil has come upon the people of Clan MacLaren.”

“Whist, ye needn’t fear.” He patted her shoulder as if he were very much older and wiser than she, though he was young enough to be her grandson. A sanctimonious, half-witted grandson. “My studies have prepared me to deal with every wile the devil may use to lure us into sin.”

“Indeed? And did they prepare ye to recognize and try a witch?”

His sandy brows shot skyward. Prosecuting a witch, especially if she could be proved to be consorting with the devil in the most lurid fashion, won a certain notoriety for the priest who successfully convicted and punished her. Father Kester was the ambitious sort.

“And who d’ye think might be wandering such a grave path of error within these walls?” he asked.

Unfortunately, his ambition was far greater than his intellect. Mrs. Beaton restrained herself from rolling her eyes. “Were ye no’ in the Great Hall at supper this night?”

“Ye mean the Lady Elspeth?”

“Aye, she was possessed of Satan himself, I’ll warrant.”

“Hmmm. I was at the other end of the hall when all the commotion started, and our laird spirited her out of the hall verra quickly,” he said, tapping his teeth with a long fingernail. “I just thought the young woman had seen a mouse. There’ve been plenty of them of late.” He shuddered. “Nasty wee beasties.”

Mrs. Beaton bristled at the slight to her housekeeping skills. “Well, she didna see a mouse, but she was seeing something else right enough, or so she claimed. The devil was showing her a battle, she said. The last battle, I’m thinking, and Elspeth Stewart was shrieking encouragement to his evil horde.”

“Ye’re certain of these things?”

“Certain as I’m standing here. I helped put her to bed whilst she raved,” she said. “Did ye no’ wonder how the MacLaren won his way back into the castle without coming through one of the locked gates?”

“No, I simply thanked God for granting us a miracle.”

Simple is right. “I’m thinking another power might be responsible for his sudden appearance among us, and the devil used Elspeth Stewart to spirit our laird back into his stronghold. Witches can fly, ye ken.”

“I’ve heard of such things.” Father Kester narrowed his eyes. “I’d need proof, o’ course.”

“Oh, aye, there’s proof and more. Much more, and several who can bear witness to her unholy bent, and…” Mrs. Beaton lowered her voice to a whisper. “There’s an unusual mark upon her person, high up on her…well, best we not speak here where anyone might stumble on our counsels.”

“Will ye step into my private chamber?”

Mrs. Beaton nodded and followed him to his spartan little cell. She’d see the way cleared for her niece to become the lady of this place or know the reason why. By the time she was done with Father Kester, he’d be ready to light the fagots beneath Elspeth Stewart’s feet with his own hand.

***

“T’would be best for the sake of my good name that ye be seen leaving my chamber verra soon,” Elspeth said. “Albus is watching outside the door and forming his own conclusions. Besides, your people need to see ye in the Great Hall. Ye dinna realize how much heart they draw from ye.”

Rob argued for a bit but finally gave in. “I’ll check on ye later then,” he said.

“I usually sleep like the dead after a visit from my Gift,” she warned.

He kissed her cheek. “Verra well. I’ll no’ disturb ye.” Then a rogue’s smile tilted his lips. “But if ye wake in the night and wish to disturb me, slip under the tapestry and come to my chamber.”

“I might do that,” she said, wishing it could be so.

“I’ll just stay till ye’re asleep, then,” Rob said and would not be dissuaded. He pulled a chair next to her bedside to keep watch over her.

Elspeth closed her eyes, intending to feign sleep. But she was skimming the surface of slumber in truth, almost ready to sink into oblivion, when she heard the door latch lift and fall back into place. She forced an eye open.