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"Ye mean the clap?" Moibeal gasped as Sholto paled and jumped to the side.
"Hmm," Edith muttered, leading the way into the kitchens now that her path was clear. She did hate that name for the ailment. It just reminded her of what often had to be done for it. Quite frequently, the patient's fiddle got clogged up with the discharge dripping out of it. When that happened, her mother had said one must clap it hard with your hands from both sides to try to unclog it. She'd also said, though, that a hand and a book might be used instead.
Sholto was such an annoying character, however, that Edith had used two books. The man had howled endlessly afterward. She doubted very much if he'd be visiting the ale wench again anytime soon. Come to think of it, he probably wouldn't come back to Edith with any healing needs either, she acknowledged with a grin as she glanced around the kitchen for the cook.
"He's no' here," Moibeal said with surprise as they surveyed the almost empty kitchen. Honestly, four people were like a drop of water in a bucket in this huge room.
"I'll ask one o' the maids where he is," Fearghas murmured and hurried off to do so.
Edith watched him go, but then found her gaze sliding to the back of the room as a memory of Cawley lying bleeding on the floor flashed through her mind. Her gaze slid over the large rush mat now lying where he had been and it didn't take a lot of hard thinking to work out that it was covering the stain his blood had left behind. Cleaning it out of the cracks and crevices of the stone would have been impossible.
"M'lady?"
Edith blinked and looked around at Moibeal's voice, startled to find that in her distracted state she'd crossed the room and now stood staring down at the mat where Cawley's body had been. "Aye?"
"Fearghas says Jaimie is out in the gardens picking some herbs," the maid told her gently.
Nodding, Edith peered back at the rush mat, and then at the barrel behind it. That would have been where Cawley had been sitting when he was stabbed, she thought, and then shifted her attention to the door next to it. The pantry. Tormod had told them that there was another hidden entrance in there, she recalled. If the killer had used it, they might not even have had to come out of the room to stab him. Just crack the door open and--
"M'lady?" Moibeal said gently.
"Aye," Edith sighed, turning away. She would check the pantry later and see if she could find the hidden entrance. Or perhaps she'd just let Tormod show both her and Niels where it was later.
Heading for the back door out of the kitchens, she asked, "Out in the gardens, ye said?"
"Tormod said ye were no' to leave the keep," Cameron reminded her as he and Fearghas caught up to them.
"It is only the gardens, Cameron," she said on a sigh. "There are no windows on this side of the building for anyone to shoot arrows at me from. 'Twill be fine."
"But--"
"I'll just step outside the back door," she said soothingly. "Ye can bring Jaimie to me. 'Tis far too hot in here to stand about waiting fer ye to find him. At least by the back door it will be cooler."
Whether he would have argued the point or not, she didn't know. They'd reached the back door and she was already pushing her way out.
"I'll go fetch Jaimie," Fearghas said, sounding annoyed as he hurried ahead of her.
"There," Edith said cheerfully, ignoring the way Cameron was glaring at her. "Is this no' nice?"
"Nicer than the flogging we'll take fer letting ye out o' the keep," Cameron groused.
"We'll only be a minute. Tormod will never ken," she assured him. When he merely eyed her with disbelief, she raised one hand to her chest, the other to the air and said with amusement, "May God strike me down if I'm wrong in this."
Cameron glanced upward as if expecting to see lightning hurtling down toward them, and then horror crossed his face and he threw himself at Edith and Moibeal.
Edith gasped in surprise as she was caught about the waist and propelled forward, and then grunted in pain as she crashed to the ground just as a loud thump sounded behind them. For one moment, she lay there on her stomach, almost certain lightning had struck, but then reason returned and Edith realized that what she'd heard behind her was the thud of something heavy hitting the ground, and not the crack of lightning.
"Are ye all right, m'lady?" Cameron asked anxiously, getting to his feet beside her.
"Aye," Edith said, and peered past him to her maid. "Moibeal? Are ye all right?"
The maid rolled to her side and looked back at where they'd been, muttering, "Better than her."
Frowning, Edith started to get up, but had only managed to get to her hands and knees before Cameron caught her under the arms and lifted her to her feet.
"Thank ye," she murmured, brushing at her dress as she turned to see what had fallen. Who had fallen, Edith corrected herself as she stared at Effie's twisted body on the ground at their feet. The woman had landed exactly where they'd been standing before Cameron had half thrust and half dragged them out of the way. She couldn't have missed them by more than a hair, Edith thought with dismay, staring at her body.
"Oh, God's breath, m'lady!"
Edith glanced around at that voice, and just managed to brace herself before Jaimie threw his thin body at her and hugged her tightly. Unfortunately, short as she was, he was shorter, and his head landed between her breasts. Fortunately, however, she didn't have to say anything. As quickly as he did it the thin little man released her and jumped back, flushing brightly.
"I'm so sorry, m'lady. I was just so overset. Ye were nearly killed. Again! Ye should have waited fer me inside," he added, catching her arm and urging her around the body and back toward the door. "'Tis no' safe fer ye to be out o' the keep. Ye could have been killed. Again."
"Aye, 'tis almost as if God Himself were trying to strike ye down," Moibeal said under her breath.
Judging by the way Cameron's lips twitched, he heard the maid say that, but merely turned to Fearghas and said with resignation, "Ye'd best go fetch Tormod and the new laird. They'll need to hear about this."
Nodding, the soldier opened the door, held it for them to enter and then followed them inside and hurried quickly past them to rush out of the kitchens.
"Fearghas said ye were wanting a word with me," Jaimie was saying now. "Did ye want to break yer fast? Ye have no' done that yet. I can make ye a fine--"
"Nay," Edith interrupted. "Thank ye, but I wouldn't want ye to take time out o' yer day to cook fer me. I just wanted to be sure that Duer and Iain delivered the cheese and capons I bought."
"Oh, aye, aye," he assured her, grinning. "'Tis all here. The cheese is in the larder and the capons look mighty fine and plump. I'm roasting 'em up for tonight's sup as soon as I finish gathering the herbs I need fer it."
"Oh, lovely, that will be nice," Edith murmured, patting his arm. "I should let ye get back to it then. That's all I wanted."
"Very well, m'lady. Now ye go sit down and try to settle yerself. Ye had a terrible scare there. I'll bring ye something light to settle yer stomach. Ye just go sit down. And you," Jaimie added sharply to Cameron, "keep an eye on her. We can no' lose our Lady Edith now we have her as lady fer good."
"I'm trying," Cameron assured him, catching Edith's arm and urging her along more swiftly. "But the lady can be stubborn."
"Nonsense. Lady Edith is an angel," Jaimie snapped as they reached the door. "And if ye let anything happen to her, it'll be naught but turnips and gruel fer ye til the day ye die, Cameron Drummond, so watch her well."
The soldier let the door close behind the three of them with a grimace, and pretty much marched Edith to the trestle tables.
"Sit," he ordered, and then grimaced and added, "Please."
Biting her lip to hold back her amusement, Edith sat, but she caught Moibeal's arm and dragged her down with her.
"Yer going to give Cameron fits," the maid said, glancing over her shoulder to eye the man as he began to pace back and forth behind them.
"Probably," Edith acknowledged.
"He is ever so manly though when he gets bossy, is he no'?" Moibeal said next, and then added, "He reminds me o' yer laird husband."
"Really?" Edith asked with surprise.
"Aye. He's so . . . commanding. I never really noticed how handsome he is before this," the girl said on a sigh.
Edith raised her eyebrows. "Does Kenny have some competition?"
"Oh, Kenny!" The maid waved her hand with irritation.
"What?" Edith asked curiously.
"Well, after seeing how good and kind and considerate the laird is with ye, and hearing how he pleases ye in bed . . ." She grimaced and shrugged. "I'm thinking Kenny is no' trying very hard. Mayhap he's no' the one fer me."
