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"Fresh water from the well, and the fixings to make broth." Turning to Geordie he said, "Mayhap that rabbit ye caught this morn on our way here, brother, and some vegetables."
Geordie nodded and turned toward the door. "I'll fetch the rabbit and fixings from me saddlebag."
"And I'll get the water," Alick said, turning as well.
"Make sure the water is fresh from the well, Alick, and make sure ye let no one near it on yer way back," Rory said firmly.
Nodding, Alick followed Geordie out of the room.
"What can I do?" Niels asked.
"We'll need mead or cider too. But I want a fresh cask to be sure no one has tampered with it."
"Come with me. I'll get ye what ye need," Tormod said abruptly and led him from the room. They walked in silence until they reached the stairs and then the man muttered, "I can hardly believe it. Someone murdered our laird and his sons."
Niels grunted in agreement, a frown curving his lips. This was a problem he hadn't expected when he'd agreed to come here. And it was a problem. He couldn't just leave Rory here to nurse Edith Drummond back to health with a murderer wandering around Drummond poisoning people. He couldn't even bundle up Edith and transport her back to MacDonnell for Saidh and Rory to tend to there either, because if Edith survived, she'd have to return here . . . where again there was a murderer wandering around poisoning people.
Niels and his brothers had been raised with the belief that it was their place to protect the weak and in need when they could. Edith was definitely weak and in need, and with Greer taking care of his shipment, he could take the time to help sort out the situation here and keep her safe from further attacks.
Mouth tight, he considered everything Tormod had told them on their way above stairs and asked, "Ye said the laird and his older sons fell ill first?"
"Aye."
"And Edith did no' fall ill until the last of the three died?"
"Aye."
"So she was no' poisoned at the same time as her father and brothers," he said thoughtfully.
"Nay, she must ha'e been poisoned after," Tormod agreed solemnly and then pointed out, "As were the maids."
"Aye." Niels frowned.
"What are ye thinking?" Tormod asked.
"I'm thinking if she and the maids had been poisoned at the same time as the laird and his elder sons I would be looking to Brodie fer an explanation," Niels admitted dryly.
"Because he was the only one who would benefit from the deaths of his elder brothers and father while Lady Edith and the maids may ha'e merely been accidentally poisoned along with them," Tormod said with a nod, and then admitted, "When the three men died I did think it most convenient fer Brodie. Without that, he never would ha'e had a chance to be laird here."
"Aye," Niels agreed, and then shook his head. "But there was no need to poison Edith too. She is the youngest child, is she not?"
"She is. So he does no' benefit from her death," Tormod said, but added, "Except to get her out o' the way. Brodie's new bride did no' care fer Lady Edith much."
"Nay?" Niels asked with interest.
"Nay," Tormod assured him. "Their relationship was tepid at best ere this all happened, but when the old man died and the two elder sons looked to be going the same way, Brodie stepped up to act as temporary laird until the men died or recovered. Lady Victoria considered herself lady of the castle then and tried to boss the servants about, but they were no' having that. Lady Edith has been lady here since her mother's death and they all automatically turned to her fer guidance. Lady Victoria would give an order and the servants would go to Lady Edith to see if they should obey, and that infuriated Lady Victoria."
"Hmm," Niels murmured, but then shook his head. "Still, Brodie could easily ha'e sent Edith to the nuns to be rid o' her did his bride ask it. Besides, that does no' explain the maids being poisoned."
"Nay," Tormod agreed, his brow furrowing. "And old Effie in there is Lady Victoria's maid. Lady Victoria is very fond o' her, I'm sure she'd no' poison her."
"Lady Victoria left without her maid?" Niels asked with surprise. While his sister, Saidh, had been known to do that, most ladies he knew would not travel without a maid to help them dress and such.
"Nay. She took her younger maid," Tormod answered and then explained, "Effie was Lady Victoria's nursemaid as a child and became her lady's maid once she was old enough to need one. Howbeit she's an old woman and no' as quick as she used to be so a second maid, a young girl, was taken on to help her with her tasks. The younger maid went with Lady Victoria and Effie was left here. Lady Victoria feared the trip might be too much fer the old girl after so soon arriving."
"Hmm," Niels muttered, and pondered that before asking, "Lady Edith's maid died?"
"Nay. She recovered," Tormod said solemnly. "She's down helping in the kitchens fer now." Mouth twisting with irritation, he added, "The lass has been fashing to tend her mistress, but the last thing Lady Edith said when she fell ill again herself was that Moibeal should be kept away from her. She did no' want the lass to get sick again too as she had. O' course, she had no idea they were being poisoned."
Niels nodded.
"Ye ken," Tormod said now, "it occurs to me that if 'twas the wine cask that was poisoned, then Lady Edith's falling ill may ha'e just been an unintended side result of the culprit's attempt to kill the laird and his elder sons."
"Aye," Niels agreed, but argued, "Howbeit the maids would hardly be drinking wine. At least they do no' at Buchanan. There the wine is fer the family only. The servants and soldiers drink ale, cider or water."
"Aye, 'tis the same here," Tormod agreed. "And they should no' have had any, but that does no' mean they did no' have any."
"Hmm," Niels murmured and decided he should probably have a talk with the maid.
Chapter 2
The sound of a terrible explosion woke Edith. Blinking her eyes open, she glanced frantically around the room, and then jerked her gaze to her right as the sound came again. She gaped at the man slumped in the seat next to the bed. He was the source of the sound. Not an explosion at all, but a loud, snuffling snort as the fellow snored in his sleep. Dear God, she'd never heard such a loud, horrendous sound.
Edith stared at the man blankly, wondering who the devil he was and why he was in her room, and then she noticed the woman in bed next to her and peered at her with mingled confusion and concern. She recognized her at once as Victoria's maid, Effie. But finding her in her bed was somewhat surprising. The fact that the woman looked terribly ill just added to her bewilderment. The old woman was extremely pale, not an ounce of color in her thin, wrinkled skin and she was completely unmoving too. Effie was so still Edith wasn't even sure she was breathing at first. She was beginning to worry the woman was dead when she noted that her chest was rising and lowering the faintest bit with slow, shallow breaths.
Relieved, Edith let out the breath she'd been holding and then glanced around her chamber again. Her room was generally neat and tidy, but at present it looked like there really had been an explosion. An empty mug lay on its side on the bedside table, next to one standing up and two empty bowls. A bread crust and another cup and bowl were on the bedside table on the other side, and then a cask sat on the table at the far end of the room with several more metal cups and bowls between it and a small pile of browning vegetable peels. There was also what appeared to be a rabbit pelt, freshly skinned.
Wondering who had held the party in her room while she was sleeping, Edith glanced over the floor now, noting the sacks lined up against the wall. There were four in all with various items spilling out of them: cloth, vegetables, weapons. And the rush mats on the floor were both crushed and kicked aside, showing a lot of use and definite trails from the door to both the bed and table, and then from both the table and bed to the fireplace where a pot of something was bubbling over the fire.
Edith didn't have a clue what to make of all that, or the fact that there was presently a man at her bedside like some very loud guardian
angel.
Or perhaps just a guard.
That last thought was a bit disturbing. Edith knew she'd been sick for a while. The mess in her room suggested it had been quite a while. What had been happening at Drummond while she was out of her head with illness? Had one of the clans they were feuding with learned of the deaths of her father and brothers and decided to take advantage and attack the castle?
The idea was an alarming one, particularly since she had not been awake to aid in defending against such a happenstance. Her brother Brodie, much as she loved him, was spoiled rotten and not the most capable of men. He would be useless in such a situation she was sure.
Biting her lip, Edith peered warily at the man slumped in the chair next to the bed. He was a big fellow, with wide shoulders and a youthful but not unhandsome face. He was also a complete stranger, not one of the Drummond men. Her gaze dropped to Effie again and she nudged her with her elbow, hoping the woman would wake and tell her what was going on and what had happened while she was ill. When the first nudge had no effect, she gave her a second, firmer poke, but that produced no response either.
Deciding to let the poor woman rest, Edith sat up, or tried. Honestly, it was an effort just to get herself into an upright position. She was as weak as a babe and had to turn on her side and slide her feet off the bed so her legs hung off it, and then push herself up into a sitting position.
