Page 26 of A Rogue in Firelight

A guard opened the door and entered the coach; Ronan recognized Bain, the young sergeant who had interpreted Gaelic for the prisoners in the Castle. The constable thrust his beefy head inside and waved the papers clenched in his hand.

“Ronan MacGregor of Glenbrae in Perthshire, accused of offenses against the Crown, including trafficking of illegal goods,” he intoned.

Bain repeated in Gaelic. Ronan nodded; they believed he spoke no English.

“Mr. MacGregor, there are new orders for you,” Bain said in Gaelic.

“Am I bound for the gallows?”

“I only know that you are to be taken out of the city.”

“Did some rural court lay claim?”

The soldier leaned forward to speak low. “Listen now, for you are a Gael and a MacGregor, and my mother is a MacGregor, and so I will be honest with you.”

“Tapadh leat,”Ronan said. Thank you.

“What are you saying in there?” the constable demanded.

“The arrangements,” Bain answered. “Listen now, Glenbrae. Agree to whatever they ask on pain of consequences. Comply with any conditions proposed for you.”

“Why?”

“MacGregor!” The constable rustled the papers in his hand. “This writ is signed by the Right Honorable Sir Hector Graham, Deputy Lord Provost. You are to be released.” Bain’s Gaelic interpretation was unnecessary, but Ronan waited.

“On what condition? Who paid the surety for the release?” Ronan asked. Bain spoke to the constable.

“Criminals think they know the law better than lawyers,” the man groused. “Tell him he is discharged by petition to the Magistrate’s office. But he can be confined again for any offense not subject to the terms of this release. On one condition.”

“If I am free on discharge there should be no condition,” Ronan murmured in Gaelic.

“He is in the judicial custody of Sir Hector Graham,” the constable said.

“What interest does Graham have in me?” he asked.

“I do not know,” Bain answered. He relayed the question but got no reply.

Scowling, Ronan recalled that Miss Graham had mentioned that someone important was interested in Glenbrae whisky. Was this conditional release part of that odd request?

“Wait here.” The constable walked away. Ronan and Bain sat silent.

Shoulders tight, tension growing, Ronan puzzled over pieces that did not fit. Even if someone in authority wanted to see him, it was unusual to free a prisoner and even odder for the chief of the constabulary to guarantee it. Outside came more footsteps, and the coach door opened again.

Recognizing the man who had accompanied Miss Graham to the dungeon, Ronan felt a warning chill spiral through him.

“This is Mr. Adam Corbie,” Bain said in Gaelic. “Secretary to the Deputy Lord Provost of Edinburgh. He has some information for you.”

“And I have questions. Ask if I am a judicial ward of the provost’s office or free on my own accord.” Bain did so.

“Temporary. Conditional,” Corbie said. “Ask MacGregor if he is responsible for Glenbrae whisky. Ask if he smuggles it.”

“Miss Graham asked that and I answered. Mr. Corbie cannot trick me into admitting a crime. I need not answer his inquiry, as he is not an officer of the court.”

The translation earned him a flat stare from Corbie. “Remind MacGregor he is liberated temporarily on a minor detail. Sixty-five days have passed since his arrest without trial. That entitles him to release. Such privilege is rarely granted. He is under Sir Hector’s protection and would be wise to accept it.”

“Then my friends should be released as well,” Ronan said, as Bain translated.

“They would require separate petitions. There is no time for that,” came the reply.