‘You wouldn’t want your daughter to be married to a simpleton.’
‘It would be simpler.’
‘Because you need deception.’
Frederick raised his finger to his lips. ‘I have followed my Chief all my life. I am Tanist, true, but Hamish still rules.’
‘But he doesn’t know of my marriage to your daughter.’
‘She is my daughter. Whom she marries is of no concern of his.’
Ah. ‘Except when he poisons my friend or will you suggest your own people did that?’
Frederick rubbed his hands over his face. The years were showing on him, but it was the toil of the situation that weighed more heavily. Rory felt the weight on his own shoulders, but he’d have no mercy.
‘Hamish will not survive the year,’ Frederick said. ‘Edward made his decree and there was no time to waste; otherwise, everything would have stayed as it had been. I would not have willingly gone against the wishes of my Chief.’
‘There would have been a battle for the land,’ Rory said, no question in his voice. No question in his gut as well. It had been easy to traverse McCrieff land because it should not have happened.
‘There are men who follow me here, Lochmore,’ Frederick said. ‘Strong, good men and their families. Many of them—enough I hope, to support my decisions.’
‘You hope.’ Rory dug his shoulders into the wall behind him, felt and welcomed the bite of rough timber. It was enough to keep his temper. ‘Yet you took the risk of inviting me here and offering marriage, knowing those who follow Hamish would not accept it.’
At Frederick’s brief nod, Rory shoved away from the wall. ‘You fool, you’ve divided loyalties and then brought in an enemy clan. You expect me to repair this?’
‘By marrying my daughter, you already have. Maybe not in my lifetime, but I hope in hers. I would do anything for her. There are possibilities for you as well.’
Ludicrous. Fanciful dreams. ‘The possibilities are there only if we live through this. And know this, if my friend dies, your possibilities are meaningless. I am Lochmore’s son.’
Frederick shook his head once, twice, as if answering his inner questions, but confusion laced his expression. ‘You married her.’
Rory was tired of being held at the whims of others, of trying to get approval. He might not have control of his past, but he would take control of his future.
‘I said my vows, but that is all that occurred last night,’ Rory said, his stare unbending until Frederick’s eyes widened in recognition. Until the father knew the marriage was unconsummated and could be annulled.
‘Know this as well, Tanist.’ Rory stepped tothe door, his hand on the latch. ‘I will never meet privately with you in the mews again. When we meet, it will be in front of all so that every McCrieff will know our collaboration. As for you, there will be no more secret meetings, no behind-my-back negotiations. You invited and proposed a Lochmore to marry your daughter. We’re family now.’
Chapter Twelve
She shouldn’t be here, not at this time of day. Now was the time she should have stayed by Hamish’s side, but Hamish slept as if dead. When she checked on Paiden, saw that he remained the same and that Beth was taking care of him, Ailsa knew she couldn’t just hide inside the room. Something had to be done.
That something led her to these rooms down below the keep. Mostly they were open spaces: coffers made empty by Hamish’s poor choices, a few stocked with wine for celebrations only and then this room...the one worth any value at all. Shelves upon shelves of scrolls and journals. Costly items and for years it had been suggested they be moved to the chapel. Hamish, greedy man that he was, insisted they be kept under his domain. They were worthless in trade, but a source of vain pride.
For her, they were priceless. In here were kept all the healers’ journals; Rhona’s was the thickest and most worn. The journal should be in her rooms, but even knowing it could mean life or death if a cure was not found quick enough, Hamish had declined her possession.
He’d announced it was done to protect the knowledge, but she knew he did it to retain power over her as he did to everyone, but for her, she believed it was personal.
Hamish had never married, never conceived or at least none outside of Rhona’s story. Because of that and her father’s ancestry, it had been expected for her father to become Tanist, even as it was expected that his issue would rule. Though she was a woman, she was the healer and had retained her own influence with the clan. Though her purpose was pure, Hamish never saw good in anything or anyone.
Therefore, to show she was lesser than him, he had decreed that she request his permission to enter this room. Permission that couldn’t be granted now. So she had taken his keys and left him in the care of another.
She had the Chief’s keys. Just that alone could earn her punishment. That she left him not in her care as he ordered could earn her death.
But she’d had to come here; there were toomany truths needing discovery. She needed to investigate Hamish’s and Paiden’s symptoms, find what could have caused their illness. If it was poison, they should both have died or recovered by now.
Nothing she knew of caused this constant continual sleep. Nothing she knew of caused any sleep like this unless it was taken in massive doses. If that occurred, Paiden or Hamish would have noticed the taste.
Unless...unless they continued to ingest the poison, but how? And if that was the case, wouldn’t she have noticed it by now? So either the means of poison was just under her nose and she’d forgotten or it was something she’d never come across before. Whatever the poisoner gave, if there was a cure to be found, it would be here.
