Chapter Thirteen
‘I can’t believe you almost left like that.’ Rory raced with Ailsa to the kitchens.
‘I hate tying my gowns.’
‘In the future you must learn to like it, unless you wish to display what only a husband should see.’
Around the bend in the road, avoiding the animals and people. Rory wanted to pick her up and run even faster. A cure. A cure. Was it possible?
‘My clothing is what you want to talk about?’
He wanted to discuss everything. He wanted to stop time and hold his wife longer. His legs were unsteady, the fullness in his chest at his good fortune, making it hard to breathe. The moment she’d swiped that parchment, the look of unfettered joy and fear in her eyes...
‘Ailsa, tell me.’
‘In a moment, I can’t...’ She ran out of breath.
He shoved open the door to the kitchens. While she frantically grabbed mint, cloves, she ordered a servant to find Hannah and procure hot water and salt.
She hurried back to the keep, her arms full of herbs, and he followed her. Running up the stairs, she barged into Paiden’s room. Mary was there, a tincture in her hand, a spoon lifted to his lips.
‘Stop!’
Mary jerked, the wooden spoon flew and thumped against the wall.
‘How much did you give him?’ Ailsa demanded.
Stumbling in her haste to stand, Mary blurted, ‘Nothing yet.’
‘Yet?’ Ailsa felt her legs give under her and Rory was suddenly by her side. His arms steadying her though he couldn’t know what was to come.
Mary’s brows rose. ‘Yet. I just lost the spoon.’
Ailsa pushed away from Rory and grabbed the spoon. It smelled of water, but the handle...
‘It was you.’
She couldn’t believe it. She trusted Hannah and Mary. They’d held conversations on scheduling Hamish’s care, ensuring that they were all well rested. It was rare that Ailsa actually saw Mary. Their schedules didn’t usually meet, except it happened recently when Rory arrived.
‘I thought you wanted me to give constant doses of water to keep him hydrated.’ Mary glanced to Rory, then back, her face calm, but something flickered in her eyes.
Fear? Most likely.
‘Water, yes. Rosemary, no.’ Ailsa brandished the crumpled parchment, handing it to the servant, who blanched, but quickly handed it back.
‘It’s only rosemary,’ Mary said. ‘Do you want me to administer—?’
‘Stop. Did you give him rosemary today? I need to know.’
‘You want to talk about herbs?’ Mary clenched and twisted her fingers.
‘Rosemary wouldn’t harm anyone,’ Rory said.
‘High doses of it will,’ Ailsa answered. ‘Concentrated and continuous and a person might not wake up.’
She charged around to Paiden’s bed. Smelled his breath, his hand, his clothes, the bed linen. ‘It’s all over him.’
The door slammed open. Frederick stormed in with Hannah carrying a steaming bucket which she placed on the floor.
‘Rory, you’ve got to change his clothing and the linens. I won’t be able to move him. Hannah, can you gather fresh ones, but smell them first. There can be no rosemary, do you understand?’
Hannah’s wide eyes glanced to Paiden, then Mary. ‘I’ll go now.’
Ailsa pointed. ‘Father, bolt the door and stand by it.’
Mary’s eyes darted towards the exit, but her father didn’t question her request. Once Hannah left, they were all locked in a room that suddenly was as silent as a tomb and just as ominous.
‘What is the concern, Ailsa?’ her father asked. ‘Hannah found me; brought me here.’
‘I need you,’ Ailsa said. ‘As Tanist you need to listen to this, doesn’t he, Mary?’
The servant’s eyes were suddenly frantic. ‘I didn’t. I am—’
‘You made an undiluted oil from rosemary,’ Ailsa interrupted.
Right now they had relative privacy. The parties that must hear the confession were here, but whatever information was coming needed to be divulged quickly.
Other clansmen would have been alerted with Hannah running around the grounds and her father’s charging up here.
‘Did you give any to Paiden today?’ she said.
Rory swept the linens off Paiden and placed them both on the floor. His attention seemed to be on his friend, but Ailsa knew he was aware of every nuance given by Mary and her father.
He was aware of everything. The moment she exchanged words with Mary, she felt the tension in him. Her warrior was bracing for a battle, but this wasn’t something that could be solved with a sword, or with swift retribution. His priority was his friend and so she made Paiden’s hers as well.
‘Mary, he can’t die.’ Ailsa stepped closer to her. ‘Right now he lives, but I need to know, so I know how to proceed.’
A gasping choked sound. ‘N-no.’
‘What is going on here?’ Frederick demanded. ‘What has Mary to do with this Lochmore?’
Ailsa glanced to her father, picked up the bucket, smelled the contents, and the metal spoon. ‘We won’t use the salt then.’
Rory knelt and lifted his friend. ‘You trust her.’
‘I believe she is speaking the truth.’ Ailsa administered the tiny drops of fresh water to Paiden’s lips.
Mary’s choked sounds turned to sobs.
‘Why not give him the salt as you did before?’ Rory said.
‘There are other complications that could occur from forced sickness. He is weak. For now, we clean his clothes, linen and anything he comes in contact with. We clean him and then we give him fresh water and food to digest.
‘Was any other herb used?’ Ailsa raised her voice, but kept her eyes on Paiden. Right now she needed to coax as much information as she could from the frightened girl.
‘Clove,’ Mary whispered after a heartbeat.
‘You talk of herbs, of oils. Am I understanding this?’ Frederick said, his voice booming against the stones of the room. ‘Mary, you’ve given this man poison?’
Paiden groaned.
‘There you are.’ Ailsa handed the spoon to Rory.
Rory jostled him closer. ‘Friend!’
‘You meant to kill a guest of Clan McCrieff!’ Frederick roared.
Stumbling, crashing, Mary fled to the corner of the room.
‘Tanist!’ Rory said. ‘You make it no better.’
Ailsa met her father’s eyes, put a finger to her lips to beseech him to remain quiet while she crouched near Mary.
Sentences and punishment, if need be, could be announced in front of the clan. But if what she suspected was true, then the information might need to stay locked in the room with them.
‘You made the quantities of rosemary potent enough to poison to cause sleep. You had access to the kitchens that day, knew what was to be served for the meal. There was rosemary lacing many of the dishes. So all you needed to add was the oil to one particular goblet. The chances of it being enough to cause distress heightened by what was already served.’
Mary’s eyes were downcast, her arms wrapped around her knees. She was at least five years younger, but she looked as fragile as a child when she nodded.
Aware of Rory’s and her father’s eyes on her, Ailsa knew that no matter how innocent Mary looked she wasn’t. But to find the truth, she needed to force it from girl, who would have run away if she could. Now was the time for confrontation.
Sinking in as much venom as she could, she asked. ‘How easy was it to rub that oil around the goblet, Mary? Did it take so little of you to commit murder?’
Mary’s head snapped back, her eyes wide with fear and agony. ‘No, never that. Never!’
That’s what she thought. Mary’s family was deeply loyal to Hamish. Ailsa knew this. Her age and her loyalty made her a good caretaker for the Chief. But it didn’t bode well for any Lochmores.
Still, she couldn’t understand why Mary had committed such an act. Even with loyalty or her family’s dogmatic urgings, she was a gentle soul.
Keeping her voice accusing, she continued, ‘Why would you want to murder a Lochmore clansman?’
‘It wasn’t meant—’ Mary blurted, her eyes darting from one person to another.
‘You wanted to murder me,’ Rory said.
Pressing her lips together, Mary slammed her head on her clenched knees.
Ailsa felt as though she was missing an important fact.
Mary had access to the rosemary. Ailsa, herself, taught her much of healing, but Mary was too young and hadn’t the inclination that Rhona had required of a healer.
So she hadn’t taught her of the more complicated tinctures or any of the poisons.
Ailsa had always thought to teach Hannah and so she had gone into—
A gentle knock on the door. Frederick slowly opened it, allowing Hannah, with her arms full, to emerge into the room.
‘Did you and Mary talk of remedies?’ Ailsa said.
‘Did she do it?’ Hannah said, clutching the linens to her.
‘Did you?’ Ailsa demanded.
‘I said nothing!’ Hannah cried out. ‘All these years, you taught me, told me... I said nothing to her.’
Frederick gently pried the linens and clothes from Hannah and carried them to Rory.
Three men, one about to be naked, and three women in this room. It was large, but not that large. There was no privacy for Paiden who hadn’t made a sound or movement since that one exhausted groan, but there was no time to waste.
‘He’ll need to be cleaned, Rory. Rub the salt on his skin until it shines red, then rinse.’ Ailsa said. ‘Use the water in the bucket.’
Hannah glanced that way, then returned her gaze to Ailsa and Mary. Mary’s eyes were clenched tight. Ailsa shifted so her back was to the men. It would have to do.
How had Mary known how to make the undiluted rosemary in the correct concentration? The answer was obvious.
‘You had access to the journals,’ Ailsa said to Mary’s bowed head, but her feet went up on their toes and her heels slammed once.
She’d take that as a confirmation. ‘You were in that room the day the Lochmores came. You talked to Hamish and he gave you his keys.’
‘Hamish!’ Rory growled. ‘He’s bedridden, ill, barely alive.’
Ailsa shook her head. ‘He was ill, but aware until the day you arrived. He—’
‘So Hamish caused this,’ Rory interrupted. ‘He harms Lochmores, he poisoned Paiden. My father was right not to trust McCrieffs.’
‘Careful, Lochmore’s son,’ Frederick said. ‘You are married to my daughter.’
‘All the worse,’ Rory said. ‘You’ll allow this, Tanist? You, who invited us to dine at McCrieff’s table. I married your daughter and therefore all treachery is forgiven?’