“We can no’ just leave him here. Maybe we should take him with us,” Edith said with concern.
“Lass, we’ve only the one horse. Besides, he’s been out here for a good week at least. A few more minutes will no’ make much difference,” Niels said grimly.
“Aye,” Edith murmured as they reached the clearing and crossed to the horse. This time, Niels mounted, lifted her into his lap and then lifted Ronson into hers. She was sure it made it harder for him to handle the reins, but Niels didn’t complain, and she was glad she could hold the boy. He was shivering slightly after his discovery. She closed her arms around him and leaned silently against Niels’s chest for the return journey to the keep.
“Well?”
Edith glanced up from the food she was mostly pushing around her trencher at that question from Niels, and saw Rory joining them at the table.
“Well,” Rory said, “it looks like he died from the arrow wound.”
“And the other injuries?”
Edith’s eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn’t noticed any other injuries, but then she’d only got two quick looks at the man and had focused mainly on his face the first time and the kerchief the second.
“Animals,” Rory said quietly. “After he died.”
Edith grimaced and set down the silver goblet of mead she’d been about to drink from.
“Can ye tell how long he’s been dead?” Niels asked after a pause.
Rory shook his head. “A week at least, but it could be more. I can no’ tell.”
“Poor bastard,” Tormod said grimly. “His horse, weapons and boots were gone, so I’m guessing it was bandits. Must ha’e caught him on his way back to the keep. We’ve had trouble with them in the area before.”
“Aye,” Edith agreed, and then frowned. “But Ronson said Lonnie left with Brodie and Victoria. Why was he returning alone?”
Tormod’s mouth tightened with anger. “Yer brother probably sent him back to see if it was safe to return. Or mayhap, after setting out it occurred to him that he should have someone who could ride out and let him ken it was safe to return so sent the lad back to be his eyes and ears here.”
It seemed the most likely answer so Edith merely nodded unhappily and absently turned the silver goblet of mead in a circle, her gaze on the liquid inside as she wondered what they should do now. They had no way to let Brodie know what had happened to Lonnie. They didn’t even know where he had taken Victoria. It could be court, or the castle of one of his friends. While Brodie was spoiled and selfish, he could also be extremely charming when he chose and had made many friends among the younger lairds. Before marrying Victoria he’d often spent his time visiting one after the other, hunting here, hawking there and just drinking, gambling or wenching at another. They could be anywhere.
Sighing, she sat up straight and glanced to the three men at the table with her. “We have to devise a plan to sort out who the poisoner was so that Brodie can return and I can leave.”
“Leave?” Tormod asked with a frown.
Edith eyed him solemnly. “He’ll send me away to the Abbey the minute he gets back, Tormod. I know that and so do you.”
“Aye,” Tormod growled unhappily. Bowing his head he added in a mutter, “I just did no’ think ye’d give in and go to the Abbey so easily.”
“I do no’ plan to,” she assured him and managed a smile when his head came back up and he eyed her questioningly. “I can no’ make him let me stay here,” she said gently and saw the disappointment in his face. “But I may be able to avoid spending the rest o’ me days in the Abbey. I may even manage to marry some kindly old laird who would be willing to take in anyone Victoria convinces Brodie to be rid of.”
“That’d be something at least,” Tormod said with a frown.
“Aye. But I’d have to leave before Brodie returns to avoid the Abbey. I’ll stay as long as I can, but when we ken he’s returning, I’ll have to go to MacDonnell.”
“MacDonnell?” Rory asked with interest.
“I asked Saidh if I might visit. That was in the letter yer brothers took with them. My hope is that Saidh and perhaps Murine and Jo can meet up with me there and help me sort out what to do. One o’ them may ken a kindly old laird looking fer a wife. I have a healthy dower, so ’tis no’ as if I’m penniless.”
“I see,” Rory murmured and glanced to Niels, but then asked, “So ye’re determined to marry a laird?”
Edith smiled faintly. “Nay. I’d be happy with a cottage and half a dozen bairns. But time is me enemy. If I marry, me full dower goes with me. If Brodie sends me to the Abbey, he could probably get away with giving them half my dower or less. Finding an old laird, or even a young one in need o’ coin seems more likely than anyone falling in love with me in the time I have,” Edith said quietly, avoiding looking at Niels. She could still taste his kiss, and feel his hands on her body, but she wasn’t foolish enough to think that meant he would suddenly offer her marriage and save her from her fate.
She wished it did. Edith would like to experience more of those kisses and caresses, and she doubted very much if she’d be lucky enough that she was attracted to whatever desperate laird she could get to marry her. But Edith had always been pragmatic about such things.
“So . . .” Tormod glanced at each of them in turn. “How do we sort out who the poisoner is?”
Silence reigned for a moment and then Rory said, “I’m no’ sure. We are no’ even sure how the old laird and his two older sons were fed the poison.”
Niels turned to him with surprise. “I thought we’d decided the first dose must ha’e been in the wine because Edith did no’ drink it.”
“Aye, but surely Brodie and Victoria would ha’e had the wine that night,” he pointed out, and then turned to Tormod and Edith and asked, “Did they not?”
“I’m no’ sure,” Tormod said with a frown. “That was weeks ago now and so much has happened.” He now looked to Edith. “Do ye recall?”
Biting her lip, she sat back in her seat, trying to remember the night in question. As he’d said, it had been three and a half weeks ago now. And she’d been sick for much of that time. Finally, she said, “I think that might ha’e been the night they fought over Victoria’s dower.”
“Her dower?” Niels asked curiously.
Sighing, Edith nodded. “Apparently, Brodie assumed that once he’d married her, Victoria’s father would hand over her dower.”
“But he did no’?” Rory asked.
Edith shook her head. “Nay. He sent her maids and some dresses to Drummond, but the dower had to be given up to the man she’d been contracted to marry. It was in the contract. If she refused to marry him for any reason, he got the dower anyway.” She grimaced. “The maids arrived that morning with the message and Brodie and Victoria were arguing about it all day.”
“Aye. That’s right,” Tormod said dryly. “He ripped up the message and threw it at her, accusing her o’ tricking him into marrying her with promises o’ her huge dower, and she—” He paused and grinned. “I thought she’d brain him with a pitcher o’ ale she was so furious at that accusation. ‘I tricked you?’ says she with disbelief. ‘I was the one who was tricked, my laird.’” He shook his head. “She was fair furious. They both were. So much so they did no’ care who heard them. They started here in the great hall, and then he followed her to the kitchen when she tried to escape him there, and then up to their room.” He shook his head. “The maids were so busy listening ye could no’ get a lick o’ work out o’ them that day.”
“Nay,” Edith agreed wryly. “Anyway, they ended up in their room, hollering half the night until I sent a maid to tell them to shut up, that Father was deathly ill.” She sighed. “I did no’ ken that our brothers were too yet. They had retired early, probably because they were feeling unwell, but I did no’ ken they were sick too until the morning when I went to tell them each that Father had passed.”
“So Victoria and Brodie did no’ drink the wine at table that night,” Rory said thoughtfully.
“And they were in the kitchens at some point,” Niels pointed out.
“But they were no’ here when I fell ill the second time and that was from the stew no’ the wine,” Edith reminded them firmly.
“But they left that day,” Niels pointed out. “They must ha’e somehow poisoned the stew ere leaving. Brodie is the only one who benefited from the deaths of yer father and brothers.”
“They left that morning,” Edith said patiently. “Moibeal felt ill in the night, but no one kenned until I woke up and found her on her mat in my room, clutching her stomach and delirious. Brodie feared an outbreak, panicked and packed up Victoria and left right away. They could no’ have poisoned my serving o’ stew later that day at sup. They were long gone. And the stew itself was no’ poisoned else everyone in the castle would be dead,” she said with exasperation.