Wings of Morning (15 page)

As the seconds ticked by, Regan’s heart pounded ever more rapidly beneath her breast. Her palms grew clammy and her throat tight. The moment she had so dreaded was nearly upon her. She began to fear she might soon faint or empty the contents of her stomach, shaming herself before them all.

Help me, Lord,
she prayed with all her might, hoping at least this time He’d hear her and respond.
Grant me the courage I need to see this through. It’s the right thing to do, after all. Seeking justice in a legal way. And it’s how Ye’d want me to do it, isn’t it?

The prayer gave her fleeting comfort, just long enough to keep her there, standing at Mary’s side, until a knock finally came at the door and the lady-in-waiting rose to answer it. And then Niall and Iain were walking in. Almost immediately, Iain’s gaze slammed into hers, and his eyes widened.

Niall next caught sight of her. He frowned slightly and glanced at his cousin. Iain shrugged and shook his head.

It didn’t take them long to cover the short distance to stand before the queen. Both men bowed, then straightened. Niall looked directly at the queen.

“We came as ye requested, Majesty. What is it ye desire?”

Mary turned to Regan. “This young woman has just told me a most disturbing tale. A tale of memory lost and finally found. Of a man wed and murdered, shot in the back one night when he was out reiving cattle. Worst of all, though, she now accuses a Campbell of doing the dastardly deed.”

Queen Mary paused then, her gaze shifting to Iain’s. “She accuses you, my friend. So I ask you now. What have you to say in yer defense?”

10

It was almost as if Iain hadn’t heard the queen speak to him. He continued to stare at Regan in stunned disbelief. Finally, though, he found his voice.

“Yer memory’s returned then, has it? When?”

She glanced nervously to the queen, who, with a slight nod, gave her permission to answer. “But f-four days ago,” she stammered.

“And why didn’t ye tell me, lass? Why?”

His dark, sorrowful gaze seemed to pull her in, dragging her down into the anguished depths of his heart. Regan opened her mouth and found she had no words.

“I’ll tell ye why she didn’t tell ye,” Niall snarled, his voice filling the tension-fraught silence. “It’s as I warned ye, Iain. She’s known all along who she really is. She but awaited the right moment to drive her claws into ye. And, even if she’d planned it from the start, Mary’s visit here couldn’t have given her a more perfect opportunity.”

Regan jerked her glance from Iain to meet Niall’s furious countenance. “Nay,” she said, struggling to throw off the almost mindnumbing pain she had seen in Iain’s eyes. “I spoke true. Until four days ago, I didn’t know who I was. But then—”

She caught herself before she revealed meeting Walter at Dalmally’s market. Best she leave him out of it for as long as she could. “But then,” Regan forced herself to continue, turning back to Iain, “like water rushing over a fall, it all came back, one memory after another. I remembered I was Regan MacLaren, that I’d been wed to Roddy MacLaren. And that he and his men had ridden out on our wedding night and ended up in far more mischief than was wise. And that . . . and that he came back to me, dead from a single pistol shot, and ye were there when he died. And ye own two pistols.”

“Aye, I own two pistols,” he replied hoarsely. “I’ve never hidden the fact from ye. And I was there that night. Roddy MacLaren was trying to lift Campbell cattle. Of course I’d be there. But I didn’t shoot yer husband. After all this time, I thought ye knew me better than that. I thought ye—” He caught himself, clenched his jaw, then shook his head. “Apparently I was mistaken about a lot of things.”

Pain, reproach, and the first flickerings of anger shone now in his eyes. Though Regan had known it would come to this, that Iain would forever close his heart to her, until this moment as she saw him emotionally withdraw, she could only imagine how it would feel. But now she knew. It was as if a dark shroud had fallen between them. As if all the light and life had flickered out, died.

If she had been anywhere else, Regan thought she might’ve fallen to her knees and shrieked out her sorrow. But she was standing before the queen, facing two men who had likely just become her worst enemies. Only her instinctual need for self-preservation held her together now.

“As was I, m’lord,” she said softly, catching and sending back the meaning-laden barb he had cast at her. “Mistaken about a lot of things.”

Mary, apparently desirous that the unfortunate meeting move back to its original purpose, chose at that moment to clear her throat. Three gazes swiveled in her direction.

“Allow me to review what I think has been said here,” she began.

“Regan has accused Iain of murdering her husband. And you,” she said, looking to Iain, “claim you didn’t. Have I perceived everything correctly so far?”

Both Regan and Iain nodded.

“Well, we all know how costly daggs are these days,” Mary then continued. “So it’s safe to assume few, if any, other men that night carried them. And Regan has already informed me of the single shot in the middle of her husband’s back that apparently killed him, for he bore few other wounds, none of which would’ve been fatal. All, however, including your admission you were present the night Roderick MacLaren died, is but circumstantial evidence.” Slowly, Mary moved her gaze from one person to the next, finally alighting on Regan. “It’ll take more evidence than that to convict Iain, I’m afraid.”

Regan’s heart sank. Her worst fears had come to fruition. No one, not even the queen, would take a stand against a Campbell. Righteous anger rose within her.

“I’m not asking for Iain to be convicted, or not convicted, from the evidence I’ve presented,” she said, clamping down on her fury and frustration. “All I’m asking is that my husband’s death be investigated more thoroughly.
Someone
killed him. That someone should be brought to justice. If he’s guilty, even if he’s a Campbell, he deserves punishment.”

“Even if he’s a Campbell!” Beside Iain, Niall Campbell’s face purpled in rage. “And exactly what is that supposed to mean? We’ve never put ourselves above the law, and certainly don’t mean to do so now, even for the sake of some young fool who brought his own death upon himself. Iain was within his rights to kill or imprison them all when he and his men caught up with those thieves. But instead, he just retrieved his cattle and let those reivers go.”

“Mayhap he did,” Regan replied, glaring back now just as fiercely at Niall as he was at her. “All I’m asking is that
whoever
murdered my husband be brought to justice. Unless ye’d just like to sweep away the whole sordid affair and risk a clan feud.”

Niall gave a harsh laugh. “Now, that’s a thought. Clan MacLaren threatening Clan Campbell.”

Something went cold within Regan.
The arrogant dog! How dare he be so belittling?
“In case the entire import of all this has yet escaped ye,
m’lord
, I’m also heiress to all the lands and the chieftainship of Clan Drummond. And Clans Murray, Mac Nab, and Menzies are our sworn allies. So though ye may look down yer nose at the MacLarens, I say think twice about doing so at the united strength standing behind Clan Drummond!”

“Och, and don’t you look like two banty roosters about to do battle?” Mary chose that moment to interject with a chuckle. “You Highlanders are all far too quick to threaten feuds and retribution, you are. And I never said I wouldn’t investigate further into your claims, lass. I just find it very difficult to believe Iain would backshoot anyone. He doesn’t need to. His battle prowess is unrivaled. Not to mention, I’ve never met a more honorable man.”

Relief surged through Regan. “Then ye’ll oversee this investigation and bring in impartial reviewers? That’s all I’ve ever wanted, Majesty. That no Campbell influence taint the inquiry.”

“There ye go again,” Niall growled, “insulting Campbell integrity.”

“Let it go, cousin,” Iain tersely cut in just then. “Regan says naught that other clans not friends of Clan Campbell wouldn’t say. Let the truth see the light of day. I know my innocence. I’m not afraid.”

“Aye, but well ye should be. An impartial investigation’s in the eye of the beholder. Especially at Court.”

“It’s in the Lord’s hands, cousin. Let it be.”

Regan watched the two men lock gazes, saw the battle of wills that raged between them, and saw, as well, the deep love they had for each other. Her throat clogged with tears, knowing she had set a course of events into motion that might have long-reaching, even horrific, consequences. Nay, she quickly corrected herself, the
murderer
had set the events into motion.
She
had but moved those events along, after they had nearly foundered in fear and apathy.

“Then we’re all agreed,” the queen said, looking once again at each of them. “An official investigation will commence immediately, led by Lord Seton. His loyalty is first and foremost to me, so I trust his impartiality implicitly. In the next two weeks, I’m certain he can thoroughly question all Campbells involved in that lamentable night, both the ones who accompanied Iain here and the ones yet at Balloch. Then, under Campbell escort, he can next ride to your home.” She paused and glanced to Regan. “Where did you say you and your late husband lived, lass?”

“Strathyre House, on Loch Voil, Majesty.”

“Yes, Strathyre House.” Mary nodded. “Another week or so there, and Lord Seton should be able to return with his verdict. I’ll await him here in the meanwhile, if it’s no hardship on you, m’lord?” she asked, turning next to Niall.

Niall straightened. “No hardship at all, Majesty. We’d be honored to have ye for as long as ye wish.”

“Good. I must confess I’ve more than one motive in that request. Not only do I think it best to have this matter settled before I leave, but I’m also in no hurry to return to Court and have to deal again with my husband.” Her mouth quirked. “Still, my prime concern is to lay to rest threats of a major clan feud.”

“Aye, Majesty.” Niall shot a narrow glance at Regan. “That’s a prime concern for us all.”

“I ask leave to return home to Strathyre House, then, Majesty,” Regan said, deciding this was the proper time to broach that subject. “So as to make arrangements to have all those concerned on the MacLaren side identified and gathered for Lord Seton’s arrival. It’d expedite his investigation, it would.”

“Rather, Majesty,” Niall immediately spoke up, “in the cause of justice and impartiality, I think it better if the lady remained
here
throughout the investigation. Not being certain of her true motives, I’d prefer she not have opportunity to return home and ‘poison the well,’ so to speak.”

Regan sucked in an indignant breath. “How dare ye—” She halted as the queen held up a hand.

“And how, pray tell, do you see her doing that?” Mary leaned forward. “You tread in dangerous waters here, m’lord.”

“Aye, true enough, Majesty,” Niall replied with not, Regan noted, a shred of compunction in his eyes or voice. “But my cousin’s life may well be in jeopardy here, and we all know how evidence can be twisted in the wrong hands.” He gestured toward Regan. “Long have I already puzzled over the strange circumstances surrounding this woman’s arrival at Balloch Castle, and of her growing relationship with my cousin, which now has taken such a villainous turn. It is all
most
puzzling, and
most
suspect.”

Her brow furrowing in thought, Mary settled back in her chair. In the ensuing silence, which seemed to drag on and on, resentment at the unfairness of it all filled Regan. Of any of them, she was the most innocent, the victim, yet Niall had cleverly managed now to make her appear almost as suspect as Iain. And all because she had ridden out that day to try and prevent Walter from ambushing and killing Iain!

But to reveal the true reasons behind how she came to Balloch would be to implicate Walter. And she wouldn’t do that. As wrong as he had been in his plan to seek retribution in such a manner, at the time he hadn’t been thinking clearly. His judgment had been clouded by his grief for Roddy. She’d not risk bringing down Clan Campbell’s wrath on him as well.

Finally, the queen exhaled a long, considering breath. “Your words have merit, m’lord. I think it best, for the sake of impartiality,” she said, meeting Regan’s gaze, “that you remain here until the investigation’s finished.”

Regan felt the blood drain from her face. “To remain here now is to dwell among my enemies,” she whispered.

“And do you feel, in doing so, your life’s in danger?”

The queen had given her the perfect opening to hie herself fast and far from Kilchurn. Regan knew it, and so did Mary. But there was something deeper being asked here than just what appeared on the surface. Was she truly convinced Iain was capable of murder? And did she believe, in her heart of hearts, that Niall was a dishonorable man?

In that moment of hesitation, Regan’s gaze skittered to Iain. He stared back at her, calm, guarded, appraising; and overlaying it all was that deep, dark pain.
Och, if I’m wrong, Iain, I beg pardon,
she silently cried, her heart’s remorse in her eyes.
I beg yer deepest pardon!

Yet even as she opened her mouth to answer the queen, Regan knew she couldn’t lie. Not even to please Walter, not even to escape the long days and nights to come with only her own doubts to keep her company. Not even if her very life depended on it.

“Nay, Majesty.” Regan wrenched her gaze from Iain’s and turned back to the queen. “My life’s in no danger, leastwise not from Campbells, if I remain here.”

“Haven’t ye aught that needs attending to at Balloch?” Niall asked, sidling up to Iain two days later as he stood on the roof walk, gazing out over Loch Awe. “Lord Seton’s well done with questioning ye and Charlie, and is set to leave for Balloch on the morrow. Mayhap ye could be of service to him there, easing his way in the investigation and all?”

Iain turned to meet his cousin’s innocent gaze. So innocent as to be suspect, it was. “Tired of my company already, are ye? If so, why not just come out and say it? I’ve never known ye to mince words before.”

Niall rolled his eyes. “Ye need to stay away from that MacLaren woman. And, to my mind, the farther ye are from her right now, the better!”

“She won’t even see me, much less speak to me, Niall. I’m in no danger.”

“Aye, mayhap for a time she won’t, but I think she but plays upon yer kind heart. She’ll come around to ye soon enough, she will.”

“And whatever for?” Iain expelled a frustrated breath. “To force a confession from me, mayhap? Because there’s not much more Regan can do, is there? I’ve already dictated and signed my statement of the events of that night, and it’s now in Seton’s possession.”