I was leaning against Davey and holding Alice’s hand, as Gregor apologized to me. I didn’t believe he was sorry. Not one bit. But I just wanted this to be over. I wanted to go home to my cottage and wash and change my clothes, and have a good meal and then get into my bed and sleep. But the crowd was restless, moving and jostling like a shoal of fish. I knew it wasn’t finished yet.
Gregor and I stared at one another for a moment. Malcolm Black was standing very still, nearby. Obviously planning his next move. I wondered if this had ever happened to him before. I thought not. He was the sort of man who was used to getting his own way.
I watched him as, without a word, he made to leave the hall.
He almost got as far as the door. ‘Stop him,’ shouted a voice. Mackenzie White skirted the crowd in the room and held on to Malcolm’s arm. ‘He came into our town and attacked a good woman. Are we just going to let him leave?’
The crowd’s murmurs grew louder. The hairs on the back of my neck began to prickle and Alice’s grip on my hand tightened.
‘Davey?’ I said quietly. ‘What should we do?’
He looked at me. ‘I think we just let him face the consequences of his actions.’
The crowd was surrounding Malcolm now and once more I was reminded of animals – this time of Alice’s cats, nudging our legs and climbing over each other in their rush to be fed. The people gathered round Malcolm, pushing him this way and that, and eventually out of the door of the hall.
‘We should follow,’ I said. Together we – Davey, Christy, Alice and I – walked behind the people as they took Malcolm outside. No one pulled or pushed him. No one shoved or shouted. They simply surrounded him and made it very clear that he had to do as they wanted.
And there, in the town square, were the barrels of tar and the piles of wood, ready for my punishment. I averted my eyes, not wanting to think about what could have been.
The crowd were on the move, taking Malcolm with them to the makeshift pyre.
‘Haul him up,’ someone shouted. And to my horror, Malcolm was lifted aloft and put on to the wooden pile meant for me.
He wasn’t still now. He was struggling and cursing, telling the men who were fighting him that they would burn in hell, that God would have vengeance. But they ignored him.
And then he was tethered and suddenly motionless.
‘Do not do this,’ he shouted. ‘This is the devil making you act in this way.’
‘Was it the devil who made you bring this tar and this wood?’ shouted Mackenzie and the crowd laughed.
‘She is doing this,’ Malcolm yelled. ‘Widow Seton is responsible. She is an evil, manipulative woman.’
‘Rubbish,’ said old Mrs Kincaid who was standing close to us, still leaning on Kyla’s arm. ‘She is just a woman. A clever one at that. That’s why you’re so scared of her.’
I looked at her in admiration and gratitude and she smiled at me. Kyla smiled too and I realized that prickle of unease I’d always had when I was near her, had vanished.
The crowd began jeering, taunting Malcolm.
‘They won’t actually burn him, will they?’ I said in alarm. ‘I don’t want that. We should get him down.’
‘Really?’ said Christy sounding disappointed. ‘I wanted to see him go up in smoke.’
Alice looked at him with a glint in her eye, and then turned her attention back to where Malcolm was beginning to cry as he begged the crowd to untie him.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Please don’t do this. I have a wife.’
A wisp of smoke began to twist up from the bottom of the pyre. Malcolm’s nostrils flared and his begging became more urgent. ‘Please,’ he said.
I looked at Alice, whose eyes were fixed ahead and then I looked at Davey who gave me a resigned shrug.
‘Go on,’ he said. ‘You’re a good woman, Honor Seton.’
The smoke was thicker now, catching in my throat as I pushed my way to the front of the crowd. But there were no flames. That was odd. I glanced over my shoulder to where Alice stood, and raised an eyebrow at her. She gazed back at me, eyes wide with innocence.
‘Stop this,’ I called as I reached the front of the crowd. ‘We’re better than this.’
There was a disappointed groan from the people watching. ‘The best way to get our revenge on Malcolm Black,’ I said, spitting out his name in disgust, ‘is to run him out of town and tell everyone we know what a silly, scared man he is. Frightened of a woman and a wee girl.’
Laughter surrounded me. I stepped forward and Mackenzie White helped me clamber up on to the pyre. This could all have been so different, I thought. The smoke was drifting away now. Perhaps it hadn’t been there at all. I leaned forward and untied the ropes that held Malcolm firm. He was jabbering to himself, crying like a baby and not bothering to wipe away the snot that ran from his nose.
‘You are a pathetic excuse for a man,’ I hissed into his ear. ‘Now get out.’
I shoved him, as hard as I could, and he tumbled from the pyre on to the cobbles of the town square. Scrabbling to his feet, and ignoring his horse, which was patiently waiting where he’d tied it on the other side of the market place, Malcolm Black ran from the town with a group of children chasing him in glee, laughing and jeering as they went.
Mackenzie White put his hand up to me and helped me climb down from the wood, as elegantly as a lady descending from a carriage.
‘Where’s Gregor?’ he said.
‘He’s over there,’ called a small voice – Christy. He had spirit, that lad. ‘He’s just getting on his horse, look.’
The eyes of the whole crowd swivelled towards Gregor. His horse snorted and stamped its hooves, as keen as its master to be off.
I saw him look at Davey across the top of the people’s heads. Davey gave a small, efficient nod and Gregor nodded back. A moment of understanding between the brothers who had spent most of their lives at each other’s throats.
Gregor pulled his horse around and kicked, and they were off, thundering down the street in the opposite direction to Malcolm.
‘So no one is being burned?’ Christy appeared at my side, with his father and Alice close behind.
‘No one,’ I confirmed.
‘Will Uncle Gregor come back?’
‘One day,’ Davey said. He put his arm round my shoulders and we all watched the dust fly up as Gregor made his escape. ‘We’ll just have to muddle through as best as we can without him.’
I glanced at Davey. I thought, despite his past troubles, or perhaps because of them, he would make an excellent laird.
Overhead the sky was darkening – another storm was on its way. I turned to Alice and saw she was focusing all her attention on Gregor as he raced away from the town. Thunder rumbled, lightning forked across the sky, and as we watched, the heavens opened. Not where we were, but in the distance – just where Gregor rode.
‘Did you do that?’ Christy asked, looking at Alice in awe.
She grinned. ‘Perhaps,’ she said. ‘But perhaps not.’