Chapter 21
Hew held her close to his throbbing heart.
“I love ye,” she mumbled against his chest.
That was how he knew Carenza was The One. What made her different from every other lass.
It was a sorry truth. One he’d only just realized. But no woman he’d ever courted had said those words so readily. It was always Hew who dove in head first. Hew who bared his heart. Hew who committed unreservedly to the relationship.
Indeed, he often frightened ladies off with the intensity of his devotion.
As he’d learned often with lovemaking, women required time and patience.
They were usually slower to arouse. And they never fell as fast or as far in love as he did.
It seemed they preferred to dangle their hearts on a string, the way one teased a cat.
But Carenza had a passion and depth that matched his own. Though they’d known each other a short time, they’d fallen completely in love. And he didn’t want that love to end.
“I love you too,” he replied, snuggling her closer.
“I wish we could run away this instant.”
“Me as well.”
She turned her head to gaze up at him. “Do ye think your mother and father will like me?”
“They’ll love you.”
It was true. Even though she had none of his mother’s warrior skills, Helena would respect Carenza.
She had inner strength and a wee bit of deviousness that his mother would appreciate.
As for his father, Carenza’s charm and brilliance would win him over.
Colin admired anyone with whom he could cross wits.
“Will your laird approve?” she asked.
“Aunt Deirdre? She’ll just be relieved you’re not English.”
“I want to meet them,” she decided.
“I want you to meet them.”
“When?”
He loved her eagerness. But he had to finish his mission.
“As soon as I catch the thief. Och, bloody hell!” he said, holding her at arm’s length as he suddenly remembered why he’d come to the physician’s quarters. “I didn’t tell you.”
“Tell me what?”
He glanced around the small chamber for the first time.
It served as the physician’s apothecary.
Most of it consisted of shelves lined with vials and jars, vessels of clay and wooden boxes, with labels identifying their contents.
Dried flowers and herbs hung in one corner, and various desiccated frogs and fish dangled from another.
Between them was squeezed a low, sagging pallet.
Peris probably slept here to guard his precious potions.
“I need to search this room,” he said.
Her interest piqued, she raised her brows as she realized, “He’s at Kildunan.”
“He’s at Kildunan.”
She wasted no time. While he fastened up his trews, she began searching the shelves. “What are we lookin’ for?”
“Something. Anything.” He began searching the second set of shelves. “I have a feeling they’ve been stealing more than just church artifacts.”
“More? What more wealth could a monastery have?”
“I suspect he may be lifting jewels and coin off of the nobles who come to the infirmary.”
She frowned, considering that. “Ye mean the nobles who…who don’t survive?”
He nodded. He didn’t want to tell her the second part of his theory. That Peris might be hastening their demise.
But as he scoured the shelves, he also looked for substances that could kill quickly.
There were several deadly ingredients. Belladonna. Cyanide. Foxglove. Henbane. Mercury. Monk’s hood. Opium.
Of course, they were also used as medicines. Possession wasn’t proof. Still, if poisoning had occurred, it made Peris the most likely culprit.
They made a thorough search of the physician’s things.
But they didn’t find anything to condemn him.
He had very little in the way of wealth, though he had a small library of medical texts.
His clothing was well-made and tidy. His boots were in good repair.
But because of his profession, he eschewed jewelry.
There seemed to be nothing incriminating among his effects.
“He could have hidden them elsewhere,” Carenza suggested.
“Aye, though it makes the most sense he’d hide them in a place kept under lock and key by day. The place he sleeps at night and can watch o’er them personally.”
“True.” She began pacing the small area between the shelves, rubbing thoughtfully at her chin. “Maybe he keeps them in his satchel.”
“’Tis a possibility.” Indeed, if he was using poison, that would surely be found within his satchel as well. “He always has it with him.”
“Right. So how can we search it?”
“I’ll find a way. I’ll return to the monastery and—”
“Nay,” she said, clutching at his sleeve. Then she gathered her brows. “I mean, must ye?”
Hew smiled. “The sooner we solve this,” he said, reaching out to caress her jaw, “the sooner we can be together…for aye.”
She sighed. “Then get out of here,” she said, pushing him away. “Go on. Shoo.”
He laughed.
Making sure everything was as they found it and their clothes properly fastened, they left and locked the chamber.
Carenza’s father was almost as sorry to see him leave as Carenza was. But Hew vowed he’d return within a sennight. A fortnight was too long to be away from his ladylove.
Carenza watched for him, but Peris didn’t return to Dunlop that night. She presumed that meant his patient was in critical condition and might not recover. But it also meant this might be an opportunity for robbery.
She wondered if Hew had found anything in his satchel.
The morn flew by. Noon came and went. The afternoon passed. Night fell.
The physician still hadn’t come home to Dunlop.
Had Hew found the store of treasure on his person and exposed him to the abbot?
Or was Peris waiting for a safe time to return?
After he missed supper, Carenza stayed awake, warming her toes by the fire in the great hall as the hour grew later and later.
She was just about to drift off when she heard the front door open. It was Peris.
Shaking herself awake, she scrambled to her feet and smoothed her skirts. Then she picked her way through the dozing clan folk to intercept him.
“Psst! Peris.”
He flinched once, but ignored her and kept on rushing toward his chamber.
Surprised, she hastened her pace. “Peris.”
He didn’t look up.
She knew he could hear her. Why wasn’t he responding?
He seemed terribly nervous, which made the hair stand up at the back of her neck. Was it true? Had he stolen valuables off of a corpse?
Determined to find out, she followed him as he left the great hall.
“Peris!” she called out as he rattled his key in the lock of his door.
That he couldn’t ignore. He licked his lips and turned the key. “Can it wait until the morrow, m’lady?”
When he turned to her, she could see tears standing in his eyes.
Lines of worry and fatigue were etched in his forehead.
Against her better judgment—after all, this was the man who’d almost poisoned the man she loved—her heart went out to him.
She remembered he’d just come from the bedside of a dying man.
And she remembered he’d looked exactly the same way on the day he told her father his wife was gone.
She asked him gently, “Did ye have a difficult day?”
“Aye,” he said, dropping his gaze to the ground.
“A death?”
He nodded.
“Would ye like to tell me about it?”
“I’d just like to get some sleep, m’lady, if ’tis all right with ye.”
She couldn’t argue with him. A physician’s life was chaotic. Late nights. Early morns. Births. Deaths. Impossible demands. Unreasonable expectations.
“O’ course.” She nodded her head in farewell. “Sleep well.”
He entered his chamber and locked the door behind him.
She grimaced. She’d lightly entertained the idea of sneaking into his room while he was asleep and rifling through his satchel. But that couldn’t happen now. And by the morrow, if he had absconded with any valuables, he would surely hide them before he emerged.
She let out an unhappy sigh as she climbed the stairs to her bedchamber. At this rate, it would be years before they solved the monastery thefts.
She couldn’t wait that long. It wasn’t that she cared so much about catching the thief. But every day wasted was a day she and Hew couldn’t be together.
She had to do something. Find a way to speed things along. If she couldn’t hurry along the investigation, perhaps she could expedite the courtship.
The weather conspired against Hew for several days. So much rain poured from the heavens, he began to grumble to the monks about the possibility of building an ark. Nearly another fortnight went by before the roads were passable and Hew could come up with a believable excuse to visit Dunlop again.
He claimed the laird had requested more honey.
Since Dunlop frequently loaned their physician to Kildunan, the abbot repaid his services with honey collected and jarred by the monastery.
So with his axe over one shoulder, a satchel of honey jars over the other, and a smile of anticipation on his lips, he made his way toward Dunlop.
Lady Carenza greeted him with a gaze of such adoration and yearning and eagerness, it would make a monk forswear his vow of chastity. Her face was bright with love and longing. Her smile twitched with secret promise. And he could see her racing pulse in the delicate skin of her delicious neck.
He ached to press a kiss to that spot. To pull her in and hold her close against his throbbing heart. To devour her mouth with all the hunger and passion he felt for her.
“Sir Hew!” The laird came down the steps, emerging in the great hall. “Ye’ve returned to us. But what have ye brought?”
He slipped the satchel off of his shoulder, rattling the jars. “Honey.”
“Marvelous. Kildunan’s honey is the ambrosia o’ the angels.” Then he turned to his daughter. “Carenza, will ye show Hew to the pantry so he can unburden himself?”
She gave him a polite smile and a nod. But Hew saw sparkling in her eyes and hastening of her breath that told him she was going to kiss him soundly as soon as they were alone.