“He needs rest, not questions.”
MacCurran’s expression hardened. “The man succeeded in finding his way to my camp. If you think I intend to let that matter drop, you are mistaken.”
Isabail glared at him, but did not argue further. Her time was better spent healing Daniel. She had been gulled by MacCurran once, but she would not be so foolish again. As soon as Daniel was well enough to talk, she would learn how he’d made his way here... and then she’d do everything in her power to leave.
Chapter 7
Aiden stared at Ana Bisset.
“I did not kill him,” she repeated quietly.
“Is it true he had no food or drink other than the tisane you provided?”
She frowned. “So said the kitchen gillies.”
“Then how was he poisoned, if not by you?” Aiden asked, his doubt weighing heavily on his words. All he knew of the redheaded healer he had learned from Niall. Perhaps his brother’s infatuation had misguided him
“If I knew that, I might have been able to raise a reasonable defense,” she said. She stooped to gather her scattered pots, replacing them in her leather satchel. “I was only called to tend him the next morning, after he took to his bed. What occurred between the hour I gave him the tisane and the moment I arrived at his bedside, I cannot attest to.”
Aiden frowned. “Is it possible you poisoned him in error? Mixed the wrong ingredients for his tea?”
“Nay,” she said. “Willow bark tea is a simple tisane. And its odor is very unique.”
His gaze pinned hers. “Then I must insist that any further healing you do within the camp, and all medicinal preparations you make, be done under the eye of Master Tam. He’s not the herbalist you are, but he knows a great deal about plants nonetheless.”
Ana straightened, her shoulders stiff with pride. “As you wish.” Then she slung her satchel over her shoulders and pressed her way through the crowd.
Aiden watched her go, less than thrilled at how the morning had progressed. “Back to your posts,” he barked at his men. He hadn’t even broken the fast yet, and half the camp was already in a furious uproar. He grabbed a piece of bread from a basket near the hearth.
Lord. The bleakness on Isabail’s face when she spied Ana bending over de Lourdes had cut him deep. She had looked so utterly betrayed. And he could easily understand why. It was a simple leap of thought to tie Ana Bisset and her brother’s murder back to him. But damn it, he’d had nothing to do with John Grant’s death.
He’d best be prepared. It would take every ounce of charm he possessed to make up the ground he’d lost. If it were even possible.
* * *
Daniel’s wounds were worse than Isabail originally thought. She carefully cut away his lèine, pulling bits of cloth from his torn flesh. She cleaned each gash with water, removing all of the blood and dirt that she could. The wounds on his back and shoulder were the shallowest and the most difficult to dress, so she did those first. She tied the last of the bandages about his chest and sat back.
“Good thing the badgers were still half-asleep,” she told him.
He smiled at her—a weak attempt at the same charming smile he had frequently bestowed upon her brother. “I’m not much of a woodsman, I fear.”
“Then it must be quite the tale,” MacCurran said from the doorway, “how you came to find us.”
Daniel’s smile fell away. He glanced at MacCurran and then back at Isabail. “I cannot take any credit for my success. It was Gorm who led me here.”
“Gorm?” Isabail instinctively glanced at the door. Then wished she hadn’t—MacCurran’s eyes met hers. She looked away. “Where is he now? I did not see him in the close.”
“He fell, my lady,” Daniel said, his eyes dark. “Defending me from the badgers.”
MacCurran strode to the mattress. “Who is this Gorm?”
“My brother’s deerhound,” Isabail explained, her heart heavy. Gorm’s unwavering affection and sweet disposition had given her great solace after her brother’s death. During the two months she was in deep mourning, his was often the only face she saw. “A great, loyal beast.”
“So the hound led you to us?” MacCurran asked Daniel.
“Aye.” The manservant grimaced. “He and I were part of Lady Isabail’s caravan. I sent him off in search of a rabbit when you attacked, fearing he would fall victim to a blade. But afterward, he tracked you through the mountains, even through the snow. He had a good nose.”
“Not for badgers, it would seem.”
