Chapter Twelve
Harcourt wondered what the punishment was for beating a sheriff. The man seated at the table eating and drinking too much from Glencullaich’s larder was not going to be any help. It had been a waste of time to even send for the man. Sir Thomas MacQueen was not actually interested in doing his job. That he was kin to Sir Adam should have warned him that the man would do nothing, but other sheriffs dealt justice out to their kinsmen all the time and without hesitation when it was deserved. It was possible, he thought, that Sir Adam had bribed the oaf in some way.
“The mon kidnapped the laird of Glencullaich and twice tried to take Lady Annys as weel,” said Harcourt. “Ye cannae just ignore that.”
“I am nay ignoring it but ye have no proof any of that was done by Sir Adam.”
“They were his men. Ye spoke to the mon we hold, the one who stampeded the cattle. He told ye he was hired by Sir Adam MacQueen.”
“Aye”—the sheriff sat back and rubbed his rounded belly—“but Sir Adam wasnae the one who told him to do that, was he. And that lass? Weel, she wasnae talking to Sir Adam, either, was she. Best ye have is the right to accuse Sir Adam’s man Clyde and t’will still be that mon’s word against some witless kitchen maid.”
“Get out,” Harcourt said, wanting the man out of his sight as quickly as possible.
“What?” The sheriff lumbered to his feet looking a strange mixture of shocked and afraid.
“Ye heard me. Get out.”
“Why so harsh? Because I willnae let ye falsely accuse a mon who has been cheated of what is rightfully his by some wee bastard?”
Harcourt was not surprised when the sheriff paled for he suspected the glare he sent the man revealed just how murderous he was feeling. “Nay, because ye have no respect for the law. I suspicion Sir Adam has bought ye, although I hope he didnae pay verra much. Sir Adam has no claim here, nay by any law, for Sir David MacQueen, the laird, clearly declared Benet his son, born within the bounds of marriage to Lady Annys. And, Sir Adam will lose this game. Ye will have disgraced your office and your name for naught. Now, leave.”
After the man hurried away, Harcourt poured himself a tankard of ale. He had almost finished it all before his fury receded. He sighed when Nicolas and Callum arrived and joined him at the table.
“No help at all, was he,” said Callum as he helped himself to some cider.
“Nay. He sits firmly in Sir Adam’s pocket,” replied Harcourt.
“Then we will deal out justice on our own.”
“I was trying to avoid that tangle.”
“I ken it, but that fool has tossed it all right into our laps. He will regret that.”
“Oh, aye, he will.” Harcourt heard the force of a vow behind his words and could see that the other two men did as well. “I cannae understand how the mon e’er became a knight, let alone a sheriff. His corruption runs bone deep.”
“Happens more often than ye may think,” said Nicolas.
“Any more from that idiot of a maid?” he asked.
“Nay. She still does naught but cry and she continues to claim she didnae ken what she was doing. Geordie demanded he be moved to someplace quieter or just to get his hanging over and done so he can get some peace.” Nicolas grinned when the others laughed.
“Ye dinnae believe her.”
“Nay, dinnae believe a word she says. If it had been a quick poison she gave David, I might, but it was a slow one. She may be dull of wit but no one is so much so that they wouldnae see what they were doing was causing a terrible sickness in the mon.”
Callum nodded. “I think she kens verra weel what she did, e’en what she was helping Sir Adam to do. When I spoke to her about an hour past, she said something to make me think she believed she was about to better herself, that she would come out of all this placed far above a mere kitchen maid.”
Harcourt shook his head. “Witless lass. Annys said she heard something similar when she listened to what Clyde and Biddy said to each other. It appalled her. Biddy is an utter fool to have ever thought she would get what was being promised. Within minutes after Sir Adam set his arse in the laird’s chair all she would have been is dead.”
“Weel, what she is now is gone,” said Gybbon as he entered the hall. “Someone set her free.”
“How?” asked Harcourt.
“Nay certain but do suspect it was one of her sisters who did it. They must have given Geordie something because he is surrounded by tankards and snoring loud enough to shake the mortar out of the walls. The lass was facing a hanging and mayhap they couldnae bear the thought.”
Rubbing his head to ease a growing ache there, Harcourt said, “Pick some men and try and find her.”
“She will try to reach her lover,” said Callum.
“And if she reaches him before we find her, she will die.”