Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
H e hadn’t been so angry since Constance had died. Alistair could feel his hands shaking with the force of his rage as he led Niamh away from the feast, toward their now shared quarters.
He’d known that Fergus MacTavish might try to find some way to ruin the wedding. But even knowing what kind of snake he was, he’d never thought the man would stoop so low as to poison his bride – and with something like a sweet treat, at that.
He felt near sick with dread at the thought of what might have happened if Niamh had eaten it on her way back to the table. Or if she’d swallowed before answering him. Or if he hadn’t noticed her expression and asked why she had frowned.
So many things could have gone wrong. For the first time, he thanked every holy power in existence that Niamh was so used to ignoring propriety. Had she been a more ‘proper’ lady, she’d either be dead, or Catriona would be scrambling to try and save her life.
Catriona and Ewan would find out what poison had been used; he had no doubt of that. The guards would do their best to find out who had delivered the poisoned treat, as well as where and when. His priority had to be his new wife, who was now beginning to tremble in his arms.
“Someone tried... tae poison me…? But who…?” Niamh’s eyes filled with tears. “But she was just a child, scarcely more than a bairn…”
Alistair halted. He’d been so determined to get Niamh away from the danger, he hadn’t thought to ask about who had given her the treat. “Can ye tell me what she looked like?”
“Dark haired – I couldnae tell ye if it was deep brown or black. Lighter eyes, but I couldnae see the color, for she wouldnae meet me gaze. Her skin was tanned, somewhat, but I couldnae see much o’ it, or her clothes, for she wore a dark cloak over most o’ her body. She was shy, barely spoke tae me. She only said she’d been told tae give the treat tae me, with congratulations. I assumed she meant her parents had told her tae dae so.”
It didn’t sound like any child he knew, but he’d pass the description on. “Can ye tell me aught more?”
“Nay. I didnae think anything more o’ it. I just... I thought her family was preparin’ tae return home, and it was a last gesture.” Niamh’s voice trembled, and Alistair held her closer.
“’Tis all right. Ye couldnae have kent. Nae any one o’ us would have suspected aught. I’m only glad ye spoke up, and naething worse came o’ it.”
They were almost to their rooms when Ewan and Catriona joined them. Alistair gestured for Catriona to speak first. “What was it?”
“Foxglove and nightshade, mixed taegether. Meant tae kill too quick tae be treated, but nae quick enough tae avoid pain.” Catriona’s expression was grim.
Fergus MacTavish was sadistic enough to use such a poison, but there was another who might know something about it – or might have sent the poison to make a point. Alistair scowled, thinking for a moment, then surrendered to the inevitable.
“Put the guards on alert. Niamh says it was a child with dark hair and eyes, a young lass nae much older than a bairn, with a cloak over her clothing.”
Catriona frowned. “Daesnae sound familiar.”
Ewan nodded in agreement.
“The servants may ken who the child was, or they may have seen her about the hall durin’ the evening. I’ll tak’ any information they can give me. In the meantime…” He heaved out an exasperated breath. “Ewan, I want ye tae go taemorrow tae the witch’s glen. Speak tae her, and see if there’s aught she can tell ye. I’d go meself, but ye ken she’ll never speak tae me.”
Ewan nodded. “Dae ye want me tae ask after some form o’ protection fer yer lass?”
Alistair snorted. “Ye ken she’d be even less like tae provide that. Just ask her what she might ken, and what she might be willin’ tae dae, fer Niamh’s sake. She might nae care fer nae generally the sort tae let an innocent get hurt, especially by another’s hand. And she might be kinder still, if she kens Niamh is kinfolk.”
“I’ll speak tae her.” Ewan nodded, then hurried away.
“And I’ll let the two o’ ye rest.” Catriona shook her head, then patted them both on the arms. “’Tis nae the way a wedding night should begin but try nae tae let this ruin the night fer ye. And if ye have troubles, only send a maid tae me, and I’ll come.”
“We’ll keep that in mind. Thank ye.” Niamh was still pale with shock, and he was certainly in no mood for celebrating any further.
“Aye.” Niamh nodded. She managed a shadow of a smile and stepped free of his arms briefly to embrace Catriona. “Thank ye, but I’m sure we’ll be fine. Ye should go tae yer husband and son.”
“That I will, as soon as I’ve finished overseeing the servants.” Catriona gave them both one last sympathetic pat on the arm, then turned and vanished down the corridor.
Alistair guided Niamh the rest of the way to their shared corridors and held the door open for her. To her credit, Niamh waited until the door was shut behind him and barred before she turned around to address him with a quavering voice. “What happens now?”
He knew what should happen. He knew what the Council expected to happen – what was demanded of both of them as Laird and Lady. And yet, one look at her wide eyes, so full of wariness, and he knew he couldn’t go through with it.
He moved to the table by the fire and poured them both something to drink, then turned to face her. “That, I’m thinkin’, is something we should talk about.”
Niamh stared at Alistair as her mind struggled to comprehend what he’d just said. She’d expected him to take her to bed, not pour drinks and suggest they talk.
Hesitantly, she walked forward and took the cup he offered her. “What dae ye mean?”
Alistair heaved a deep breath. “I remember yer nightmares. And I ken that ye dinnae trust me fully as o’ yet, and after what just happened, ye’re likely tae be more nervous still. Even so, there’s expectations on both o’ us.”
Niamh swallowed hard and forced herself to nod. “Aye... I spoke tae Catriona about what tae expect, but…” Her throat closed around the words. She tried again. “I…”
“Ye dinnae want tae consummate the marriage and risk bein’ with child.” The straightforward way Alistair spoke the words was a relief to hear, even as it made heat rush to her cheeks.
“Aye.”
Alistair sighed. “Were it up tae me, I’d respect yer wishes and leave ye be. I’ve never forced a woman tae be with me, and I dinnae intend tae start now. Unfortunately, ye should ken that the matter is nae entirely me own tae decide.”
Niamh flinched. “What do ye mean by that?”
“The council wants tae ken that we’re at least making an effort for one. As ye might have guessed from what happened taenight, I’ve enemies, and the elders o’ the clan want tae be sure the family line is continued, if at all possible.” Alistair snorted. “Never mind I’ve a braither – they insist I sire a child, even kenning that I was reluctant tae risk the life o’ a bride.”
“Then... what are ye tryin’ tae say?” Niamh frowned.
“That the Council is demanding proof that I’ve consummated the marriage. They want me tae bring the sheets from our marriage bed tae the council in the morn, tae prove that ye were a proper virgin bride, and that I’ve done me duty.”
Niamh shivered. “That’s…”
“’Tis impolite at best, but I cannae outright refuse them, because ‘tis a request made fer ‘the good o’ the clan’.” Alistair grumbled the words. “I can delay them fer a night or two, perhaps, by telling them we were both tae overset by the attempt on yer life tae have a proper wedding night immediately. But sooner or later…”
“Sooner or later, the excuse willnae work.” Niamh finished the statement for him, dread settling in her stomach. “So, even if ye dinnae wish tae press the matter, even if ye want tae be kind and respect me wishes, yer Council willnae be so understanding.”
“Aye. That’s the size o’ it.”
Niamh took another swallow of the wine Alistair had poured for her. She felt sick, and not entirely because of the fate she had narrowly escaped. She’d survived an attempt to take her life, only to face her worst fears. Alistair was trying to be considerate, she knew, but it didn’t change the truth.
Even with all that Catriona had told her, the idea of intimacy made her stomach clench into knots, and threatened to make her vomit up everything she’d eaten at the feast. She wasn’t sure she could stand for Alistair to touch her like that, no matter how gentle he was.
She wasn’t aware that she’d begun to cry until a callused finger brushed across her cheek to wipe the tears away. She blinked and was startled to see an expression of gentleness on Alistair’s rugged face. “What dae we dae?”
For a moment, his expression darkened, then he shook his head. “I’ve said I willnae force ye, and I meant it. I may nae have been able tae spare ye the marriage, but I’ll nae demand that from ye if ye’re this distressed about it.”
“But the Council…”
“The Council doesnae need tae ken the truth. And they willnae, if we take the proper steps.”
Niamh blinked, intrigued in spite of herself. “What dae ye mean?”
“They’re expected tae see a virgin’s blood on the sheets, so blood they’ll see. They dinnae need tae ken that it isnae yers.” Alistair smiled grimly. “Happens there’s a dead pig down there. They’ll have taken it tae the cook tae see if it can be salvaged. If we can get some blood from the carcass, we’ll use that instead.”
Niamh stared at him for a moment, overwhelmed by a rush of gratitude. “Ye’d...ye’d dae that fer me? Deceive yer clan?”
“Aye.” Alistair nodded. “I told ye afore I could live with an angry wife, but nae an unwilling one, and that’s as true in the bedchamber as it was afore.” He finished his drink, then reached for the sword belt he’d discarded at some point and withdrew a small, sharp knife. “’Twill nae tak’ me long tae get what we need. Wait here fer me.”
Niamh frowned. “Why would ye be getting the blood?”
Alistair snorted. “I cannae ask the servants tae collect it fer me.”
Niamh folded her arms. Now that they had a plan, and she knew she wasn’t to be forced to do something she feared, her strength was returning. “I could go tae get it.”
Alistair frowned. “Ye?”
Anger sparked to life inside her, the rest of her fear translating to irritation in her weariness. “Aye. I can use a blade, and I’ve helped with butchering in the kitchens. Nae tae mention, I’m smaller and ‘tis easier fer me tae sneak about.”
“Ye cannae expect me tae believe ye wouldnae be noticed. A man would have tae be blind or drunk nae tae see ye when ye entered a room.” Alistair’s brow drew down.
Niamh scoffed. “Then half me faither’s men are one or the other, fer I was quite skilled at sneaking out o’ me castle at home. And certain sure, I can manage the same here.”
“That’s nae what I meant.” Alistair shook his head. “Ye dinnae ken yer way about the castle yet. Ye could get lost.”
“Then I’ll make up some excuse.”
Alistair huffed. “This isnae getting us anywhere. And if we dinnae move soon, we may not have a chance tae get what we need without goin’ intae the courtyard.”
Niamh considered his words. “In that case, since the feast was interrupted, I have an idea…”