son. Speaking for the first time, his measured brogue oozed authority. “Just because yer brother laughs does no’ mean he makes light o’ the situation.”
He shifted in his seat to favor Duncan with an indulgent smile. A glance of understanding—of preference even—passed between the king and his youngest son. Rather than react or defend himself, Jamie mutely turned away.
If I, an outside observer, could pick up so quickly that Duncan was the favorite son, what must it be like for Jamie? An overwhelming urge to comfort this beautiful golden boy with the dark, wounded eyes rose up inside me. But I dismissed the impulse as his deep scowl pinned me to the spot. Maybe I’d taken a knock to my head somewhere along the way, because I had far more important things to worry about—like, oh, I don’t know, my imminent survival or imprisonment—than an arrogant boy who treated me worse than an ant he found crawling over his boot.
Clenching my jaw, I did my best to ignore his intense stare as King MacCrae addressed the crowd. “We shall hear the evidence against Miss Welling and Miss Reid.”
Gideon once again approached the throne. “M’ lairds, ye heard it with yer own ears. The one with hair the color o’ devil’s fire freely admits to witchery.” His bulging eyes blazed like a zealot. “’Tis my belief the Witch o’ Doon has built herself a new coven, and these two—her emissaries o’ evil—are somehow impervious to the enchantment.”
Nausea flooded my system as chaos exploded around us. Angry citizens pressed closer, shouting about witchcraft and malevolence. Kenna grabbed my hand, her voice quivering. “Enough of this Salem witch trial. I don’t want to be hanged, or burned at the stake,
I clasped her hand tighter and leaned in close. “Don’t worry. We’ll get out of this … somehow.” I chanced a glance at Jamie and prayed he wouldn’t allow us to be carried down to the river by a mob of pitchfork-wielding villagers. In that moment, my prince commanded, “Silence!”
The clamor died instantly, replaced by a palpable and equally tense quiet. Jamie jumped down lightly from the dais and strode forward, his eyes never leaving my face. He stopped before me, and I met his catlike stare. Some indefinable emotion crossed his face and softened his rigid features, but before I could identify it the detached ruler was back. A vein pulsed in his throat as he demanded, “What have ye to say against the charges?”
My fear shifted into anger with a nearly audible snap. Letting go of Kenna’s hand, I stepped forward. “What charges? So far, I haven’t heard anything but conjecture from a raving lunatic. Shouldn’t we be given the opportunity to defend ourselves?”
The prince moved into my personal space, forcing me to lift my chin to meet his gaze. Barely restrained energy radiated from his body, and against my will I trembled in response. His warm breath pulsed against my ear as he leaned in and hissed, “That ’tis precisely what I am doing. But if you have no explanation for yer presence here, we’ll move on to the sentencing.”
Gideon moved in and pulled Jamie back. “If ye continue to let her speak, sire, she’ll beguile us all.”
Jamie scowled at the guard’s fingers, and Gideon snatched his hand back before continuing in a scornful tone, “Need I remind ye, they just appeared. By
At this latest allegation, the crowd clucked in disapproval. Jamie stepped away from me, and the breath I hadn’t realized I held whooshed from my lips. He nodded toward his father. “Gideon makes a sound point. We can’t risk these alleged witches beguiling us.”
On the second to last word, his voice cracked, but he turned to face the people and continued in an expressionless tone. “Any defense must be offered by a citizen of Doon.”
For the first time in the proceedings, the room was as silent as a crypt. Jamie declared, “Is there no one willing to speak on their behalf?”
Duncan stepped down from the dais and winked in our direction. “Don’t be daft, Jamie. You know I’ll defend them.”
Jamie’s eyes narrowed slightly as his mouth quirked into a tight, shrewd smile. “You can’t, little brother. As a member of the royal family, you sit in judgment on this hearing.”
Duncan’s expression mirrored his sibling’s. “Then I renounce my royal claim. You must now be an only child and I an orphaned commoner.”
I waited for the king to stop them, but he retained his Zen-like nonchalance. Either he was used to his sons’ antics or his health was too compromised to intervene. Maybe a bit of both.
In an unexpected display of emotion, Jamie leaned toward his brother. Despite the quiet, I strained to catch his barely audible reproach. “Stop this madness. Ye know what’s at stake here.”
In an equally intimate tone, Duncan replied, “What happened to your heart, brother? What would Mother say if she were here to witness your callous behavior?”
Jamie’s eyes widened as he turned away, dark color staining his cheekbones.
Duncan addressed his father. “If these girls held the power to bewitch us, they would’ve done it by now. As defense, I would like the lasses to give an account o’ how they came to be in Doon.”
When the king nodded in agreement, Duncan addressed Kenna and me. “Dinna be afraid. Speak whatever truth is in your hearts.”
I glanced at Kenna, and she nodded for me to take the lead. Clearing my throat, I locked my knees against their shaking and focused on the king. “Respectfully, sire, we walked across the Bridge of Doon.”
What I thought was a straightforward statement incited the mob, and Gideon had to shout to be heard. “Ye see, sire! The Brig o’ Doon does no’ open fer two more weeks—until the Centennial. Yet these lassies crossed it. ’Tis witchery, I say!”
“NOT—” Duncan paused until the roar died down. “Not if they possessed the Rings of Aontacht.” Behind him, the assembly gasped.
“That is a bold claim, m’ laird.” Gideon scoffed and crossed his arms over his spindly chest.
Duncan smiled. “Is it?” Without taking his eyes off Gideon, he inquired, “Fergus Lockhart, what say you?”
The gentle giant stepped forward. His pale blue eyes met mine briefly before refocusing on his co- conspirator. Prompted by Duncan’s nod, Fergus addressed the king. “Sire, we did remove rings from these lasses. One gold and ruby, the other silver with an emerald.”
The king considered this for a moment then turned his attention back to Fergus. “If this is true, where are the rings now?”
“Gideon confiscated ’em, sire.”
King MacCrae gestured for Gideon to approach the throne. Purple with indignation, Gideon reached into his vest. After a ridiculous amount of searching and patting, he produced the rings. Rather than hand them over immediately, he stammered, “M’ laird, what if these trinkets be forgeries? Or cursed? They need ta be evaluated before—”
The king silenced him with an elegant flick of his wrist, then extended his hand and waited until Gideon surrendered the bands. They came to rest in the monarch’s palm with a subdued clink.
King MacCrae took a ring in each hand and examined them. I watched mute, as he went into a trance-like state and held the rings reverently skyward. His lips moved in silent prayer. At long last, he proclaimed, “These are, indeed, the Rings of Aontacht. Where did ye get them?”
“They were left to me by my aunt Gracie and uncle Cameron.” Kenna’s voice rang through the hall.
“You’re a relative of Cameron Lockhart?” As Kenna nodded, the auld laird favored her with a smile. “This explains much.”
Jamie emerged from the crowd, apparently recovered from his moment of humiliation. “Father, just because these girls have the Rings of Aontacht does not mean they should be absolved. They could yet be aligned with the witch.”
Without a trace of his characteristic smirk, Duncan interjected, “Or not.”
Kenna sighed. “Just take us back to the bridge. We’ll use the rings to go home. Problem solved.”
My stomach bungee-jumped into my toes. Of course, leaving was preferable to death, but I wasn’t ready to give up on this place … or on
I ignored the impulse to glance at Jamie and instead focused on the one person who held our fate, King MacCrae. The same shrewd expression I’d seen on the faces of his sons now emerged on his. “I am afraid ’tis not
