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The cart, presumably the one they had been dragging along when they encountered Katherine on the lane, stood empty beside the dwelling. The remains of the load still littered the bottom, a few twigs and other debris. Robbie glanced at it, his suspicions firming.
At his signal, one of his men dismounted and hammered on the door.
There was no reply, but Robbie knew the family were within by the smoke drifting from the thatch.
“Again,” he commanded.
The guard thumped the door with his fist, then, at his laird’s nod, he put his foot against the rickety timber and kicked it in.
“Bring them out.”
Robbie remained on his horse, his gaze dispassionate as the mother, daughter-in-law, and two of her sons were hauled before him. The younger woman carried a baby in her arms. Both the women were sobbing.
“The women may stand aside. This does not concern them.” From Katherine’s account, it was plain that only the menfolk had been involved in the incident.
“Please, laird, it were an accident,” the older woman wailed. “They didnae mean anythin’ by it.”
“Wait.” Robbie leaned forward to address her. “By what, Meg?”
“Nothin’,” she sobbed. “It were just… They be sorry.”
“Sorry for what?” he asked, his tone remaining low and calm. For now.
“I… I…”
Robbie straightened and directed his attention to the two young men. He knew exactly what had happened on the riverbank, but he wanted to hear it from them. And although he could guess at their reasons, he needed them to tell him why they had tried to murder his bride.
“I am given to understand that you encountered a lady this morning. By the river.”
Neither replied. They looked to each other, then to the ground as though for divine inspiration. None was forthcoming.
“Where is the third one?” Robbie demanded. “There were three of ye, were there not?”
“Here, laird.” Charles called out from behind the cottage. “I found this one takin’ a piss.” He rounded the wall, dragging a rather battered-looking individual with him. “He seems particularly reluctant tae pay his respects to his laird this fine day.”
Robbie quirked his lip. Trust Charles to attend to the details.
“Ah, I am so glad you decided to join us after all.” He nodded to Charles. “Put him with the others. And bind all three of them.”
There followed a brief scuffle, but the outcome was inevitable. Moments later, the three young men were lined up before Robbie, not one of them prepared to meet their lord’s stormy eyes.
“You attacked a defenceless lady today. You threw her in the river, fully expecting her to drown. Is that no’ correct?” He saw no point beating about the bush.
“Ye canna prove it were us,” one of them mumbled. “Mebbe she slipped…”
“Your attempt failed. Lady Katherine is safe and has offered a full account of exactly what transpired. She did not slip.”
The three shuffled awkwardly, then, the one who had been rounded up by Charles, opted to make a run for it. His escape was short-lived, Charles saw to that. Even more battered and now bleeding from his nose, he found himself flung to the ground, narrowly avoiding being trampled under the hooves of Robbie’s stallion.
“Unless ye prefer tae watch while I burn your mother’s cottage to the ground, I suggest ye might like tae be a little more forthcoming. I dinnae have the rest o’ the day tae waste on a set o’ murdering churls.” It was probably an exaggeration. A cottage on fire would likely ignite others, and he would soon find himself with an entire village to rebuild. Robbie was not given to such wasteful practices, but his threat did the trick.
“No,” Meg wailed. “’Tis our home. Tell ’im, wee Fergus. Tell ’im it were an accident, that ye ne’er meant tae hurt the lass.”
Robbie raised an eyebrow and glared at the one named after his father. “Well, Fergus, was it an accident? Did ye an’ yer brothers somehow manage tae inadvertently grab a lady about the waist, lift her off her feet, an’ throw her into the water? And, having encountered such a misadventure, did ye then make no attempt tae save her? Did ye opt instead tae watch her drown, an’ laugh as she struggled for her life? Is that how it happened, Fergus?”
Meg gaped at her sons. “Ye didnae! Ye told me she lost ’er footin’ like…”
“Did you? Is that what ye said?” Robbie gentled his tone. “Will it also be an accident, then, when the lot o’ ye lose your own footing, on the gallows?”
