CHAPTER 28 #2
“Good,” Finn said. “You’d better go now before someone gets suspicious.”
To make sure no one connected Alex visiting his cart with his departure, Finn waited another half-hour before slowly rolling his cart toward the gate with his new dog trailing beside him.
As he passed under the iron portcullis at the gate, he felt a prickle at the back of his neck.
When he glanced over his shoulder, sweat broke out on his brow and palms.
Barbara Sinclair was standing in the middle of the courtyard with her head cocked to the side and her cold gray gaze fixed on his back.
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“Good day to ye, Isabel.” Margaret pasted on a pleasant smile on her face and got up from her knees holding the blanket. “Your husband was chilled and asked me to fetch this from your trunk.”
Her years of protecting herself by hiding her feelings behind a smooth mask saved her from showing how scared she was. She told herself that so long as she gave Isabel no cause to believe she had discovered the henbane, she would get out of this room.
“Just what I needed,” Gilbert said, giving her a wink as she spread the blanket over him.
Thankfully, Gilbert did not want his wife to know he’d had Margaret searching for his secret flask of whisky any more than she did.
“If there’s nothing else ye need, I’ll be on my way,” Margaret said, meeting Isabel’s icy stare with another bland smile.
Margaret’s heart pounded as she forced herself to walk in measured steps past Isabel to the open doorway.
As she crossed the threshold, alarm shot through her body, urging her to run, run, run!
Instead, she hummed a tune and climbed the first step as she imagined Isabel coming up behind her with a long blade.
Isabel had already brazenly murdered people close to her, so she would have no qualms about eliminating another threat.
Margaret’s breathing seemed unnaturally loud as she strained to hear movement inside the chamber behind her.
Now she imagined Isabel in the center of the chamber, standing as still as a stone and listening, just as Margaret was, for some sign that would reveal what the other knew.
At last, Margaret reached Una and Ella’s door. Her pulse jumped when the latch made a soft click as she lifted it. Moving quickly, she slipped inside and drew the bar across the door.
Una dropped her stitching in her lap, and Ella stopped playing with her rag doll. Neither moved nor made a sound as they fixed their gazes on Margaret. These two, one old and one young, had acquired a keen sense for danger.
Sweat beaded on Margaret’s forehead as she leaned her ear against the door. When she heard no footsteps coming up the stairs, she picked up Ella and held her close.
“Don’t be frightened, sweetling. Everything will be all right, but can ye find your shoes and put them on for me?” Margaret said, then she lifted her gaze to meet Una’s. “We need to leave the castle now.
While Ella struggled with her shoes, Margaret quickly told Una about finding the henbane.
“I suppose the wicked woman was gathering it when we saw her that day in the wood with her basket,” Una said. “And she made that vinegary tincture for Bearach. Vinegar is used in many cures, but vinegar and mulberry leaves is for henbane poisoning.”
“I don’t think Isabel knows I saw the henbane in the trunk,” Margaret said.
“If she even suspects you’ve found her out,” Una said, “’tis not safe for ye here.”
“Then ’tis not safe for you, either,” Margaret said. “She’ll assume I told ye.”
“We’ll go to my grandson Lachlan’s cottage and wait for him and Finn there,” Una said. “It will be no easy task, but Finn will see that justice is done.”
“It will be hard for him to learn that the woman who raised him would do such a thing,” Margaret said. “And she’s probably already thrown the henbane down the privy.”
“What I meant is that it will be hard because Isabel will claim you’re the poisoner,” Una said. “Someone has already planted that seed. It hasn’t taken hold yet because the servants like ye. But I’ve heard whispers that you’re a spy for the Sinclairs.”
“Me? Why would anyone think that?”
“You’re a stranger among us,” Una said. “After no lass in Sutherland could capture Finn’s heart—and many of them tried—he comes home bewitched by a mysterious lass who claims she has no clan.”
Margaret swallowed hard. She was the perfect scapegoat.
“Of course, it will be far easier for her to blame ye if you’re dead,” Una said. “So let’s be on our way.”
“We shouldn’t go together,” Margaret said. “I want ye to take Ella first—pretend you’re taking her to pick herbs and flowers, as usual. If I’m not with ye, Isabel will have no reason to follow ye.”
Una nodded.
“I’ll wait an hour and meet ye at your grandson’s,” Margaret continued. “Don’t worry if I’m late. I’ll have to wait until I can get away without being seen.”
“Just be sure to come before dark,” Una said. “If ye wander off the trail, ye can fall into a bog and never be seen again.”
After sharing that unsettling bit of advice, Una donned her cloak and picked up the basket she used to gather herbs.
Margaret lifted Ella into her arms and kissed her on both cheeks.
“What’s wrong, a mamaidh?” Momma, Ella asked.
It was the first time Ella had called her that. Margaret was already struggling to hold back tears and nearly lost the battle, but she sniffed and managed a smile.
“I’ll be fine. Mind Una for me, and I’ll join ye soon.” She gave Ella one last hug. “I love ye with all my heart, my sweet daughter.”
She watched Una and Ella until they were out of sight down the stairs, then went to the window to wait for them to emerge into the castle yard.
The elderly nursemaid and her young charge gathered herbs and flowers most days, so no one should take notice of them.
All the same, Margaret bit her lip until it bled as the pair slowly made their way to the gate.
She continued watching long after they left the castle and entered the wood to be sure no one followed them.
Relieved that they were well on their way to safety, Margaret left their chamber and went into hers and Finn’s to wait. When she shut the door behind her, it seemed so empty without Finn. How she wished he was here now. She always felt safe with him.
It was a chilly day and one of the servants had been thoughtful enough to pile extra peat on the brazier and start a fire. Margaret donned her boots and cloak, sat on the bed, and drummed her fingers. Perhaps she did not need to wait a full hour…
After a while, the heat made her feel so sleepy. She tossed off her cloak. Perhaps she should rest a bit while she waited…
She woke up with her head hanging over the side of the bed.
On the floor beneath her, Ella’s rag doll peeked out from under the edge of the bed.
Ella would be upset that she left it. When Margaret tried to get up to pick it up, she rolled off the bed and crashed onto the floor.
She blinked, attempting to clear her vision. But it only grew worse.
Her body felt so heavy. Something was wrong with her. What was it? The answer was there, just outside her reach…