Sorcha lowered her head briefly. ‘We fear —’ she indicated Nettie, ‘that matters have got out of hand. That Beatrix might be accused of witchcraft.’

The captain nodded grimly. He’d already begun noting events for his superiors. What good it would do, he wasn’t certain, but he felt it was important that someone impartial (if he could be called that), recorded everything to do with Peter Morton and this so-called bewitchment.

‘She be no witch, sir,’ said Sorcha. ‘Just a foolish old woman with a sharp tongue.’

‘She can no more cast a spell than I can ride a broomstick,’ added Nettie.

Sorcha shot her an appalled look.

‘Perhaps that was a poor choice of words,’ conceded Nettie, looking closely at what remained in her cup. ‘There are some would argue I do. Ride a broom, that is. But you ken what I mean.’

‘I do. And it’s a terrible thing to be so accused,’ said Aidan. How could he express the repugnance he felt, the deep uneasiness at what he sensed was afoot? He didn’t want to alarm these women. Sorcha.

But they had to know. ‘I’m not sure how to tell you this, but a short time ago the bailies ordered the arrest of Mrs Laing and the constables took her to the Tolbooth.’ Sorcha’s hand covered her mouth. Nettie shook her head.

‘We feared she’d lose her liberty.’ Sorcha looked to Nettie for confirmation. ‘We didn’t realise the bailies had already acted, nor had her taken to the Tolbooth…’

Aidan cleared his throat, anything to prevent himself from moving to Sorcha and offering her the comfort he so desperately wanted to provide. She was a loyal friend to this Beatrix — both women were. But did she understand, did either of them, what they were risking by coming to him and even discussing — let alone defending — their friend? Aye, they did. His heart swelled — with pride and a deep, deep concern.

‘I understand that’s where the bailies — your council — have their offices as well?’ asked Aidan. ‘On the top floor of the Tolbooth?’ He knew the answer, he simply wanted to remind them.

The women exchanged dire looks. ‘It is,’ said Nettie.

‘Is there anything you can do?’ asked Sorcha.

‘I’m sorry,’ said the captain. ‘I’ve no authority over their decision. I’ve no authority over anything that happens in Pittenweem unless it directly affects my men.’

Sorcha’s face fell.

‘Surely,’ Aidan said quickly, ‘once they question Mrs Laing, they’ll see what you claim: that she’s simply an auld woman with a sharp tongue.’

‘I take it you’ve not met the reverend before?’ Nettie cocked a brow at him.

Aidan went to speak then fell silent. Of course he knew the reverend. He also knew what Nettie meant.