Chapters (76)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Also by Karen Brooks
- Title Page
- Dedication
- EXPLANATORY NOTE
- PART ONE
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- PART TWO
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- PART THREE
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Forty-Five
- Forty-Six
- Forty-Seven
- Forty-Eight
- Forty-Nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-One
- Fifty-Two
- PART FOUR
- Fifty-Three
- Fifty-Four
- Fifty-Five
- Fifty-Six
- Fifty-Seven
- Fifty-Eight
- Fifty-Nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-One
- Epilogue: Autumn 1706
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- GLOSSARY
- LIST OF CHARACTERS
- ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
‘Alexander McGregor?’ Sorcha’s head reeled. If there was one thing their arrest had taught them all, it was to only keep company with folk they could trust, who wouldn’t turn on them because of an ill word or misunderstood action. As far as Sorcha knew, Isobel had been nowhere near the likes of Alexander McGregor. Not since the night Sorcha came home and Isobel had burst into the cottage claiming the man had scared her witless.
Oh dear God…
Sorcha leapt to her feet and began to pace. ‘When was she supposed to have done this?’
‘Last Hogmanay.’
Sorcha stopped and made a scoffing noise. ‘But ’twas Isobel who fled from McGregor. As a matter of fact, she came here, to me and Nettie.’
‘I ken what happened. Isobel told me. But McGregor now swears she was casting a spell and if he hadn’t woken and interrupted her, she would have killed him with witchcraft.’
‘It’s a complete nonsense.’ Sorcha began to wear a path between the fireplace and door.
‘The reverend didn’t think so when McGregor told him this last night.’
Sorcha’s heart skipped a beat. ‘He told the reverend?’
‘Aye. ’Twas the reverend who ordered her taken to the Tolbooth so she might be formally questioned — and we ken what that means.’
Sorcha began to worry her nails. Mr Adam sipped his whisky, his frantic arrival settling into something less now he’d shared his burden.
Pressing her hands against her cheeks, Sorcha tried to think. ‘Isobel ran away from McGregor — others saw her. There are witnesses.’
‘Isobel said as much.’
‘The reverend didn’t listen?’
‘Nae, lass. Not him nor the bailies. That’s why I’m here. I have to warn you. The others as well.’
Sorcha stared at Mr Adam. A needle-like pain began to prod and prick. Starting at the base of her neck, it travelled the length of her spine, running in bands around her ribs before lodging in her breast.
‘What about?’ she asked breathlessly.
Mr Adam rose and put down his drink. ‘Isobel wasn’t the only one McGregor named as present in his house that night.’
Even though Sorcha knew what he was going to say next, she had to ask. She had no choice. ‘Who else did he name?’
‘Among others, you, Sorcha McIntyre. He named you.’ Sorcha’s stomach lurched and she lost focus. ‘And you ken what that means, don’t you?’
Sorcha blinked Mr Adam back into existence.
She did. All too well.
