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
‘Oh, Sorcha, thank God. I was about to come looking for you.’
‘What? What is it?’
Bumped and shoved, it was hard for Sorcha to keep her footing. Maintaining hold of Nettie, she tried to pull her out of the melee. Around her one name was repeated over and over: Janet’s.
‘Have they found her?’ asked Sorcha, dragging Nettie clear.
Panting, Nettie nodded. ‘Aye. Moira told me a man rode into town this morning with a letter for the reverend. Seems our Janet made it as far as Leuchars before seeking refuge in the kirk there.’
Before Sorcha could ask any more, Isobel and Nicolas joined them, their faces pale, their brows furrowed.
Nettie quickly told them what she’d shared with Sorcha.
Sorcha glanced at the gathering. It was becoming louder. Steel glinted in the strange light that accompanied the gloaming. Knuckles punched the air, arms were brandished like weapons.
‘If Janet sought refuge, why would the minister there inform the reverend?’
Nettie clasped her hands in hers. ‘Because of the reward.’
‘What?’
Isobel’s hand flew to her mouth. Nicolas shook her head, eyes blazing.
‘The ten pounds Reverend Cowper and the bailies offered for the return of Janet,’ said Nettie, outrage making her words blunt. ‘The bastard Leuchars minister is claiming it. The reverend sent the Stuart lads to collect her. They’re bringing her back any moment.’
Sorcha glanced at the growing mob, horrified. This is why people had assembled. ‘To this?’
‘Aye. To this.’ Nettie followed the direction of her gaze.
They looked helplessly at the mass of baying men and some women. The bairns were just imitating the adults, yelling, making angry noises, shaking their wee fists. The air was fizzing with anger, alarm and something else. Sorcha had felt it before, back at the farm on St Andrew’s when she stayed with her sister. When a cow or sheep was killed for the table, the hunting dogs were tied up so they couldn’t interfere. They would watch, their hackles raised, their snouts trembling, howling, their heads raised to the heavens. Their bodies shaking with longing. It was blood lust. That was what Sorcha sensed now.
Her heart seized. Taking Nettie’s arm and gesturing for the others to follow, she walked down as far as the tavern and stood beneath the shingle.
‘We have to do something.’ Sorcha looked left, then right. There were others standing back, cautious, fearful, trying to gauge the mood and getting ready to respond. If only she could round them up, bring them together. There was strength in numbers, wasn’t there? But what if the number was only small?
She had to try. They had to. If they could ensure Janet had a fair hearing, got a fair trial, it would guarantee any others did as well.