"Aye." Jessie held the cup to Isobel's lips, but she tried to turn her head away again.
"Damnation, Isobel, drink," he commanded in a harsh but low tone near her ear. "I can't lose you."
She shook her head, then accepted the vinegar, showing true effort this time to get the vile liquid down.
"Aye, drink a lot of it, lass. You have to vomit and get rid of the poison."
He could already hear Aiden vomiting behind him. Thank God. This gave him hope.
"We're getting married tomorrow, aye?" Dirk asked Isobel, praying they still could. His heart broke at the thought of losing her the day before she would become his wife.
She nodded, jerkily, and whispered, "Wedding."
"Well, then, you have to drink all this so you'll get better."
She accepted more of the horrid drink while Jessie administered it. Isobel nearly choked and started coughing. Dirk leaned her forward, over the bucket, hoping she'd vomit any minute. He didn't want to have to stick his finger down her throat.
She gagged and he leaned her closer to the bucket. She shook her head and started sobbing.
"Saints, Isobel. You have to vomit, now."
Hell, he'd never had to order anyone to vomit. But she did, finally. She retched and the vinegar water came back up along with half her meal. He and Jessie supported her while she clutched at her stomach. He held her head, the skin of her forehead still feverish.
Another bout of retching consumed her and she vomited twice more.
"That's good. Get all the poison out, Isobel," he said, relief helping him relax a bit.
"What the devil happened here?" Cyrus demanded, crouching at his elbow.
"Isobel and my brother were poisoned with deadly nightshade. It had to be in the food. Could you go make certain none of the kitchen servants leave the premises?"
"Aye, of course. Will she be well?" Cyrus asked, eying Isobel with much concern.
"I hope so, once all the poison leaves her system. Maybe you and Rebbie could question the servants."
"Indeed." Cyrus strode away. Dirk knew how the man was. He needed something to do, to take action during a crisis.
"How do you feel?" Dirk asked Isobel.
Her only response was a shake of her head.
"Get her some fresh water, Jessie, to rinse her mouth."
"Does your stomach hurt?" he asked.
"Nay," Isobel rasped.
"Is the nausea gone?"
She nodded.
He lifted her into his arms, praying she'd emptied her stomach and that none of the poison remained. He set her on a chair and Jessie gave her water to rinse her mouth.
Dirk turned to see how Aiden fared. His normally pale skin was just as red as Isobel's at the moment. "How is Aiden?" Dirk called to those helping him.
"A wee bit better," Nannag said, approaching and touching Isobel's forehead.
"Deadly nightshade, you said?" Dirk asked her.
"Aye. I've seen the effects before, many years ago. Two children ate some of the berries. The younger one died."
God's teeth! A renewed wave of fear crashed through him, making him realize how close he was to losing her.
"Will Isobel and Aiden recover?" He prayed silently with all his might that they would.
"I hope they will." Nannag gave a brief nod, her red kerch flapping over her white curls. "Since they've purged their stomachs. But their bodies absorbed some of the poison before we could get it out."
"Is there an herb or something you can give them to help?"
She shook her head, looking forlorn. "Nay, lad. We've done all we can."
He glanced at Isobel sitting on the chair, leaning on Jessie. She appeared near unconscious. Aching dread clutched at his stomach.
If Maighread had done this, he'd kill her.
"I'll take Isobel to her room," Dirk said. "Will you come up in a few moments and examine her again?"
"Aye," the healer said.
"Come, Isobel." Leaning down, he lifted her into his arms, wishing they were already married so he could take her to his room.
Her fingers clutched weakly at his collar and she pressed her face to his shoulder. Tears streamed from her closed eyes.
"Och. Don't cry, lass," he murmured.
Maneuvering up the narrow turnpike staircase with her wasn't easy. Once in her chamber, he laid her on the bed and covered her.
Beitris rushed forward. "What happened to her?"
Dirk explained the situation.
"Oh, heavens." Beitris burst into tears and touched Isobel's face. "She's burning up."
"Aye."
"I'll bathe her face." She rushed away to pour water from a pitcher into a bowl.
Dirk leaned forward and kissed Isobel's forehead.
"I thank you," she whispered, her voice raspy.
"You will be well, my sweet. Aye? Promise me."