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 hadcommitted 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 saidnothingto 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?’
‘Never, but... Ailsa, how long does it take to make the oil?’ Frederick said.
‘Hours,’ Ailsa said. ‘Days if done right, which means she had it ready when they arrived.’
‘Hamish knew of the King’s demand. He may have known that Lochmores arrived on McCrieff land that day, but as for the rest...’ Frederick stood, his feet heavy against the wood floor, his body towering over her, over Mary.
‘It was meant for me,’ Frederick concluded.
