I was not particularly startled by this bit of gossip, having formed my own conclusions on the matter. I was only surprised that there was but one child of questionable parentage, surmising that Letitia had been either lucky, or smart enough to seek out someone like Geilie in time. Unwisely, I said as much to Geilie.
She flung back her long, fair hair and laughed. "No, not me. The fair Letitia does not need any help in such matters, believe me. If people are seeking a witch in this neighborhood, they'd do better to look in the castle than the village."
Anxious to change the subject to something safer, I seized on the first thing that came to mind.
"If young Hamish isn't Colum's son, whose is he supposed to be?" I asked, scrambling over a heap of boulders.
"Why, the lad's, of course." She turned to face me, small mouth mocking and green eyes bright with mischief. "Young Jamie."
Returning to the orchard alone, I met Magdalen, hair coming loose under her kerchief and wide-eyed with worry.
"Oh, there ye are," she said, heaving a sigh of relief. "We were going back to the castle, when I missed ye."
"It was kind of you to come back for me," I said, picking up the basket of cherries I'd left in the grass. "I know the way, though."
She shook her head. "You should take care, my dearie, walking alone in the woods, wi' all the tinkers and folk coming for the Gathering. Colum's given orders—" She stopped abruptly, hand over her mouth.
"That I'm to be watched?" I suggested gently. She nodded reluctantly, clearly afraid I would be offended. I shrugged and tried to smile reassuringly at her.
"Well, that's natural, I suppose," I said. "After all, he's no one's word but my own for who I am or how I came here." Curiosity overcame my better judgment. "Who does he think I am?" I asked. But the girl could only shake her head.
"You're English," was all she said.
I didn't return to the orchard next day. Not because I was ordered to remain in the castle, but because there was a sudden outbreak of food poisoning among the castle inhabitants that demanded my attention as physician. Having done what I could for the sufferers, I set out to track the trouble to its source.
This proved to be a tainted beef carcass from the slaughter shed. I was in the shed next day, giving the chief smoker a piece of my mind regarding proper methods of meat preserving, when the door swung open behind me, sending a thick wave of choking smoke over me.
I turned, eyes watering, to see Dougal MacKenzie looming through the clouds of oakwood smoke.
"Supervising the butchering as well as the physicking, are ye now, mistress?" he asked mockingly. "Soon ye'll have the whole castle under your thumb, and Mrs. Fitz will be seeking employment elsewhere."
"I have no desire to have anything to do with your filthy castle," I snapped, wiping my streaming eyes and coming away with charcoal streaks on my handkerchief. "All I want is to get out of here, as fast as possible."
He inclined his head courteously, still grinning. "Well, I might be in a position to gratify that wish, mistress," he said. "At least temporarily."
I dropped the handkerchief and stared at him. "What do you mean?"
He coughed and waved a hand at the smoke, now drifting in his direction. He drew me outside the shed and turned in the direction of the stables.
"You were saying yesterday to Colum that ye needed betony and some odd bits of herbs?"
"Yes, to make up some medicines for the people with food poisoning. What of it?" I demanded, still suspicious.
He shrugged good-naturedly. "Only that I'm going down to the smith's in the village, taking three horses to be shod. The fiscal's wife is something of an herb-woman, and has stocks to hand. Doubtless she has the simples that you're needing. And if it please ye, lady, you're welcome to ride one of the horses down wi' me to the village."
"The fiscal's wife? Mrs. Duncan?" I immediately felt happier. The prospect of escaping the castle altogether, even if only for a short time, was irresistible.
I mopped my face hurriedly and tucked the soiled kerchief in my belt.
"Let's go," I said.
I enjoyed the short ride downhill to the village of Cranesmuir, even though the day was dark and overcast. Dougal himself was in high spirits, and chatted and joked pleasantly as we went along.
We stopped first at the smith's, where he lett the three extra horses, taking me up behind him on his saddle for the trip up the High Street to the Duncans' house. This was an imposing half-timbered manor of four stories, the lower two equipped with elegant leaded-glass windows; diamond-shaped panes in watery tones of purple and green.