Caught mid-swallow, Beatrix shook her head, coughing and thumping her chest a few times. ‘Nae, but I could hear him and they told me what ails him. A bloated stomach, rigid limbs, splewing and choking. He’s stopped eating, too.’

Nicolas buried her head in her arms.

‘’Twasn’t me, I tell you,’ protested Beatrix. ‘But I ken what did it all the same.’

Katherine sat forward on her stool and looked from Sorcha to Nicolas and then at Beatrix. ‘What? What do you ken?’

‘Why, his own ill-tongue is what brought an evil spirit to torment him. An auld evil spirit who, like me, thinks the young should pay their elders more respect.’ She burst into cackles of laughter.

Katherine looked at her in sheer dismay. ‘That’s not funny, Beatrix. None of this is funny. You shouldn’t be saying such things.’

‘Katherine’s right,’ said Nicolas, unfolding her arms and lifting her shawl over her hair. ‘You’re a right fool to have done such a thing. Did you not realise what harm you were doing, intended or not? Did you not think about the trouble you’d make for yourself and for those you call friends?’ She stood and glared.

The barely repressed fury in her voice rendered Beatrix momentarily speechless.

‘I would never harm my friends. You ken me better than that.’

‘Do I?’ asked Nicolas. ‘Do any of us?’

Before Beatrix could respond, Nicolas swept past her, wrenched open the door and stood watching the downpour, trying to breathe against the howl of the wind. The fire fought the cold air, guttering and bursting back into life. With one last look over her shoulder, Nicolas ran into the street, slamming the door behind her.

Sorcha began to shiver. Katherine and Lillie stared at Beatrix. Beatrix stared at the floor.

‘Time for me to be getting home, before it gets dark,’ said Sorcha finally, breaking the silence.

‘But the weather —’ began Katherine, then pressed her lips together. As Sorcha suspected, she wanted her gone. She wanted them all gone.

‘Och, I don’t mind a drookin’.’ Drenched she’d be, walking through town in this weather. She glanced at Beatrix. She should offer to walk her home.

‘What about you, Beatrix?’ asked Katherine, catching Sorcha’s look, clearly keen for the woman to leave. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting home?’

‘I haven’t far to go, lass, don’t you worry. I’ll wait for Sorcha and Lillie here to leave, then you’ll be rid of me.’ She reached over and patted Katherine’s knee. There was no resentment, no attack, only a deep understanding and, if Sorcha read her right, apology. Beatrix never meant for this to touch any of them.