Chapter 14
Ada did not like being put on the spot. She pouted, folding her arms across her chest and flinging herself back against the pillows.
“Don’ put me on the spot like this, Calvin!
I never would have put ye down for one o’ those lovelorn swains who spout forth poetry an’ whine about feelings!
It’s stupid an’ boring. Ye ken I am fed up with spoiled youths who cry when I give them the go-by, completely forgettin’ that they were the first ones to tease me when I was a girl. ”
His face was unreadable, and Ada knew immediately that he had withdrawn from her, closing off his emotions from her as easily as it was to shut a door.
He was the handsome laird’s grandson with the unfathomable mind once more.
Ada had not expected him to obey her request so fast!
She was in the unfortunate position of being admired by every young man for miles around, and it had made her think she could play fast and loose with all men once they told Ada they wanted to marry her.
The moment that happened, she believed it put her in a position of power, a position that Ada enjoyed occupying very much—until now.
She was yet to learn that the laird’s grandson was a masterful man and no woman could ever change that.
“W-What I mean to say, Calvin,” she stuttered, wishing it was easier to backtrack her words, “was this: I think it’s too early for us to start talkin’ about marriage when we have a poisoner to catch.”
He stared at her. His frown made his eyebrows draw together over his hawklike features in a way that made Ada hug her arms around herself tightly.
“Very well. I take it back—what I said about the poetry! I’m no’ a contrary lass, Cal, at least…no’ where ye’re concerned. D’ye forgive me?”
The moment she submitted to him, a huge weight lifted off her shoulders.
Ada thought it would be horrible to apologize to the laird’s grandson, but it was quite the opposite.
She wanted to be the one to please and delight him, not the one to make him withdraw from her.
With someone like Cousin Morag waiting in the wings for her chance to coax this handsome man into her bed, Ada did not want to risk losing him.
She keeked up at him through the veil of hair that fell over her face and was pleased to see her apology had been accepted.
“Calvin, ye have been the master o’ me miseries since I first laid eyes on ye, but somehow it’s nice no’ to be miserable alone, ye ken?”
He was not looking at her. He jumped off the bed and began pacing the room.
“What is it?” Ada was afraid he hated her again. “What did I say wrong?”
“Say it again…what ye just said to me. Say it again word for word!”
Ada wrinkled her nose. “Nay need to rub it in, Cal! I said I was sor—”
He interrupted her. “Nay! The rest o’ it - what ye said.”
Ada bit her lower lip and looked up at the ceiling. “Ye mean that bit about ye being the master of me miseries an’ it’s nice no’ to be miserable alone?”
“Aye!” His eyes were bright with excitement. “Aye, ye brilliant lass! I was the master of yer misery because I made the wrong judgment against ye an’ yer poor mither, remember?”
Ada assured the laird’s grandson that she remembered very clearly. He was relieved to see she understood him so well.
“So, if that judgment caused ye misery an’ trouble, who’s to say it has nae happened before?”
Ada bit the end of her thumb. She was thinking.
“As much as I resent yer decision, Cal, I would never use it as an excuse to injure our clan.”
His eyes grew bright. “Aye! But I bear witness to the fact that circumstances—on the face o’ things—are never the same as what they truly are under the surface.
D’ye think I would have ordered yer mither an’ ye to stay at the Castle if I had kent all yer reasons?
All I saw was a proud maid who wanted to have her own way, and I judged on that.
But if I had kent yer deep love for yer mither, how decrepit her bones were, an’ how much the two o’ ye were looking forward to the peace an’ quiet o’ the bothy on the hill, I would never have told ye to stay.
It’s very likely such a thing has happened before.
An egregious misjudgment that caused some poor soul to suffer pain an’ misery.
Once the scribe writes the order in his ledger, the decree must stand.
Imagine the frustration ye felt that day, only multiplied many, many times. ”
“Ye have a point,” she said, a small frown marring the flawless skin between her brows, “but how are we to determine such a fellow? He will be keepin’ a low profile now that his vengeful plan is being played out.”
Calvin was excited now. His pacing was a way he could vent his energy like a bloodhound on the scent of the stag.
“I’ll go bail I’m right. It’s the only explanation. I cannae say I’m no’ relieved to ken the wheels for this evil act were set in motion before I came to visit me grandfaither.”
He strode to the door.
“Where are ye goin’?” Ada wanted to know. “Don’ leave me here alone, Cal. I’m scared. If someone wants us dead, they might think an ailing lass in bed is an easy target.”
The laird’s grandson gave her one of his enigmatic smiles. “It would take more than a prowlin’ stranger to make ye scared, Ada. Ye dinnae want me to leave because ye have a strong desire to ken what’s goin’ on, no’ so?”
He was uncanny in the way he could read her thoughts and cut through her wheedling statements with his knife-sharp wit.
She hung her head, fiddling with her hair. “Aye, Cal. I-I’m sorry for lying. Ye are right. I dinnae want to be left out of whatever ye plan on doin’...”
“I’ll be back before the cat has time to lick its ear, lass.”
He blew her a kiss and left.
She must have dozed for a while because when the door opened it felt later in the day.
“Where have ye been?” Ada wanted to know. “What are those books?”
He plonked a large stack of vellum-covered books onto the table.
“It’s every last one o’ me grandfaither’s ledgers for the last ten years, lass.
I’m glad to see ye’re well an’ rested because we’re no’ leaving this bedchamber until we have a list o’ complainants an’ petitioners who had their requests turned down.
Once I have that list, I can get a better idea about who the poisoner might be. ”
Ada’s vision of lying abed with the laird’s grandson all day vanished. She fought back the impulse to sulk.
“There must be over twenty ledgers on the table, Cal,” she grumbled, but offered to rise out of bed and write the list for him. “It will go faster that way. Ye say the names of those ye hold under suspicion to me, and I’ll write them down.”
“I’ll run down to yer mither’s to fetch a fresh kirtle for ye, Ada.” She could see that he was champing at the bit to settle down with his task. “Can I fetch anythin’ else for ye while I’m there?”
She shook her head. “Ye showed me a very crafty way o’ tyin’ a plaid around the waist this mornin’, Cal. What d’ye say we start right away an’ I wrap one o’ yer plaids around me? It’s so warm I’ll be comfortable just wearin’ a shift gown.”
He smiled. “Aye, there’s that, I suppose, but drape a scarf over yer shoulders so ye don’ distract me.”
He came out of the dressing room holding a light woolen MacNair plaid scarf, and Ada did what he wanted. They were both grateful and excited about finding out if a disgruntled petitioner might be the poisoner.
The laird’s grandson’s bedchamber was so large and well furnished that they decided to spread their work out over two surfaces: the desk and the table.
Laird Calvin had sent page boys to check that every person living at the Castle had their own table on which to dine and their own meals to be served there.
The page brought a message from Iona to them, saying she would prepare their food for them and deliver it herself.
Thus, they set their minds to the huge task of finding a denied petition amidst the thick ledgers.
“How far back should we start?” he asked her, craning his head so he could read the ledger dates written on the spines of the pile of books.
Ada shook her head. “Nay, Cal. We must nae look at the task like that. We must use our heads before we start siftin’ through the ledgers.”
He leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and stared up at the ceiling.
“Very well, Ada. I’ll use my head an’ then ye must use yer instincts to guide me. Agreed?”
She agreed. “Mmm, aye.”
Closing his eyes, he began to speak. “I’ve had me request denied by the laird…perhaps I will use the next two months to petition for another hearin’...those attempts fail. It takes a while for me to give up hope because I have convinced meself I’m in the right.”
Ada felt the need to interrupt. “Aye, but it’s not givin’ up hope—it’s building up a resentment.”
The laird’s grandson used his hand to show her he was listening.
“Aye. Maybe a bit o’ both. I hope I’ll get me own way because I resent bein’ turned down. I wait a bit longer, then I realize the rulin’ is nae goin’ to be overturned. I am livid.”
“Also,” Ada added, enjoying the picture their words were painting, “I begin to feel the effects of the laird’s ruling.
Perhaps I have to repay someone an’ it takes me stash of gold or me crops fail because the laird’s ruling took away me grain or me daughter-in-law’s dowry was nae paid an’ now me son an’ I are stuck with a lazy woman who brought nay dowry with her… ”
He grinned. “All excellent reasons for me to risk getting boiled alive in oil?”
She was silent. What could possibly drive someone so mad they would disregard the severe penalty of being boiled alive! It was unfathomable!
“What if…what if…”
The reason was dancing in front of them like a tantalizing sprite, but Ada could not put her finger on it.
“We’re missin’ something,” she said.