A Highlander In Peril (Gunn Guardsman) (22 page)

All laughed, but her.

“His neck was saved from the marital noose. That is until Elisa snuck away and we had to follow to protect her. Oh, milady, I meant no offense,” James went on to say.

“None taken.
Why would you protect her if she married Kenneth?” Frances asked Sean, becoming bothered by the story.

But James answered, “She didn’t want her husband to know what she was about. But Sean and I suspected she was up to something, so we followed her all the way to MacQuarrie land. She was the most stubborn woman we’d ever met. Even the king had trouble dealing with the lass.”

Sean raised his cup. “Aye she was a vixen and I’m glad she wed Kenneth, for I’ve my own bonny, sweet wife.”

Frances didn’t like hearing the tale at all. She wondered if Sean had kissed the woman and if she’d been enamored of him. Frances certainly was. She shook the thoughts away and grabbed a large cup of ale and chugged the contents.

Alice approached with her daughter in her arms. She looked sleepy. “We’re to bed, my lady.”

Sean took Ermintrude from Alice’s hold and said, “Sleep well,
wee love. Dream merry.” He placed a light kiss on her forehead.

“I will, Da.”

Frances kissed her sweet child, and Sean handed her back to Alice. They left the celebration.

Throughout the evening, she was greeted by many of the clan’s men and women, whom she introduced to Sean. He was gracious and sociably adept, charming the women and praising the men. Pride filled her, for he was a good lord, and they were all blessed to have him there.

As the sky darkened and the fires were lit, she danced and drank, and tried her best not to think of the woman her husband was supposed to wed. She wondered if the woman was beautiful. Frances wanted to berate herself for lacking confidence and for being envious of a woman wed to another.

The night wore on and the celebration continued. Many would not seek their beds until near dawn. She heard the revelry and noise around her, but her eyes blurred and she needed to take a rest. As she made her way to the table, she leaned against it, trying to hold on. Her legs weakened and shook. The fires grew large and the glow seemed to make her eyes water and blur.

Someone picked her up and she immediately recognized Sean’s body. Frances set her arms around him grateful he’d rescued her.

“Love, come, you need to be put abed.”

“She was beautiful wasn’t she?” Frances’ head spun and she closed her eyes.

“You’re beautiful, the most of any woman I’ve seen.”

She heard his footsteps and sounds retreating from the celebration. Frances didn’t know what happened for the ale she’d drank wasn’t that strong. The next thing she knew, the door to their chamber slammed and she was set on her feet.

“Aye, you’ll feel better once you get some sleep.”

The chamber began to spin. She needed the chamber pot and hastened to it before she’d make a mess of things. How mortifying. She wretched and her stomach and throat burned, and her eyes stung. When she couldn’t bring up anything more, she huffed, and reached for a drying cloth nearby to wipe her face.

“Frances, love, are you … come, you’re unwell. I’ll help you to bed.” He tried to take hold of her arm, but she shrugged away.

“Nay, I need to … Sean, I deem something is wrong with me. My head hurts, my stomach hurts … I only had three cups of ale, not much at all and …” She tried to be quiet but honestly, her stomach wouldn’t allow it.

With all her heart she wished he’d go away so she could die in peace. That or she could disappear.

Sean stood nearby her, holding her hair, and saying words to which she couldn’t hear. Her ears rang and her brain muddled. She was thankful when she was able to wipe her face with a cool cloth and wash her mouth out with water.

Mistress Ina, who she hadn’t heard enter, spoke from across the chamber, telling Sean what to do, but Frances’ ears were still ringing. She heard the door close and felt her gown being removed from over her head.

“I want to die,” she said, before she fell flat onto the bed.

“Don’t ever say that!” Sean yelled at her. He knelt beside the bed, watching her with his imploring eyes.

She reached out to him. “Help me,” was the last thing she remembered saying before she succumbed.

* * *

Sean stood inside the chamber watching over the tending of his wife. Mistress Ina called the healer, a middle-aged woman, Muriel, who dressed akin to a clootie. Aye she appeared to be the reaper for all the dark colors she wore. He hadn’t seen her since she’d attended Lord William on his deathbed.

When she’d removed her black cloak, the brightness of her hair almost blinded him, for she had hair as red as their king’s. But he didn’t care who she was as long as the woman cured Frances.

He’d never seen anyone so ill in his life, and his sweet wife became delirious. She’d called out to him and each time his heart beat ferociously, even when she’d said she loved him. He’d hoped she would say the words, but not in the condition she was in. The setting he’d envisioned when they proclaimed their love was far more romantic.

Sean stayed and wouldn’t leave, even when bid to do so by the staid woman healer. He stood near the bedding, watching intently as the healer checked Frances over, she’d discovered that Frances was bleeding and had lost a child.

“Worry not, Lord Hume, for many women are able to have children after losing one.” The healer continued on with her tasks.

“That is not what concerns me. I thought she was thin of late. If she were expecting a bairn …” Sean couldn’t fathom the loss of a child doing that to a woman, and he knew other malicious reasons were the cause.

“Some women lose weight in the early months, my lord. She wasn’t that far along. In a way it is a blessing this happened now and not when she was further along.”

Sean nodded, but his misgivings got the better of him, and he’d asked James to assist the healer, for he’d know if anyone tried to poison her.

He couldn’t think of mourning the loss of their child since Frances hadn’t come to, and he was beset with worry. If she died, he’d be waylaid, nay more than waylaid. He would never forgive himself if she succumbed to death because of his lack of protection.

Pacing the chamber, he silently watched with a heavy heart.

James was quiet and focused on the healer. Sean found it odd the way he looked at her, but dismissed it when Frances moaned. James handed the healer more cloths and leaned over Frances. He’d washed his hands and dried them. Sean tried to see what he was doing, but James pushed him aside.

“Stand aside. I need room to move, Sean, back up.” James inspected Frances’ mouth and nose. The healer clucked her tongue in affront of his practices.

“I say what are ye looking for?” She continued to clean Frances and frowned when James didn’t answer.

He left the side of the bed and went to the chamber pot. “Aye, as I suspected. I know now. It is clear. Sean, someone put peonies in her drink. See there, there are remnants of the seeds. ‘Tis good she only had a few drinks for if she’d had another or two, she’d probably be dead.”

His heart seemed to cease at that news.

The healer went to look at what James showed her. “Oh the poor lass. I’ve known full grown men who couldn’t stomach the peony. Some even became paralyzed by it. Good thing the lass wretched, aye, for she must have gotten most of it out of her body.”

Sean was buckled by their assessment, but held fast to the bedpost and frowned fiercely at their discussion. “Someone poisoned my wife? How did they get to the kitchens? I know she only ate at our table. I watched her all night.”

“Mayhap someone did get into our kitchens, or mayhap they sprinkled the seeds into her drink when she wasn’t looking. However they did it, they were successful.”

Sean wanted to get his hands around the neck of the culprit. He was livid at the thought of someone near enough who could harm Frances. Their guard had lessened of late because there hadn’t been any threats. How many times would they learn that lesson?

The woman would not be able to move without someone shadowing her, he vowed. If she even survived this attempt. Then Sean stiffened at his thoughts. God, please let her live.

“There’s nothing to do now but wait and hope infection doesn’t take her, my lord. Have someone fetch me if she begins a fever,” Muriel said, before she packed up her medicinal herbs and headed for the door.

James casually handed the healer her cloak and remained silent.

Sean thanked them both for assisting
Frances, and all left but Madam Ina, who insisted she stay should he need her. Sean was grateful for her solace. She helped him to change the bedding and to put a clean night-rail on Frances.

Throughout the night, Frances stirred but not enough to fully awaken. He sat on the bedding next to her and watched the sun rise, checking often for a fever. Mistress Ina slept in a chair across the room, her light snore filling the chamber.

Sean couldn’t close his eyes for he found himself unable to sleep. Each time he tried, he envisioned his sweet wife violently ill.

Frances, don’t leave me, love. I need you more than you know. I should have told you when I could …

But he must have slumbered when he felt someone touching his face. He startled and squinted as the morning sun streamed into the room.

“Sean …” His name was a whisper on her lips.

“Frances, my love. You had me worried.”

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. “I worried myself. I’m sorry you had to witness …” she blushed and rolled onto her side, hiding her face in the pillow. “…
that.”

“I wish I could’ve made you feel better.”

She moaned and rolled on to her back. “I do feel better, och remind me not to drink so much at the next celebration. I vow I’ll never drink that much ale again.”

Sean leaned his head to the side. She didn’t realize what had happened. “You didn’t drink much, love. Someone tried to poison you. You should be well now that most of the poison is out.”

“Poisoned? How? Who could’ve gotten inside the keep?”

“James thinks they put the poison in your drink. We don’t know how they got inside, and I deem it has to be someone that has the freedom of the keep.”

“You want to go, do you not? To search for this person?”

He nodded. “I do, but you are more important and I wouldn’t leave until I knew you fared well.”

She closed her eyes and a small smile came to her lips.

Sean dreaded telling her of the child she lost, and he wasn’t sure how to relay the news. He touched the side of her face, rubbing the pad of his thumb over her jaw.

His words came out in a rush, “There’s more, Frances. The poison caused you to lose a child.”

Her eyes welled with tears. “I did? I, I didn’t know.”

Sean grimaced, realizing he’d blurted it out. He’d intended on telling her more gently. She wept with her face in her pillow, and Sean moved aside her hair. He rubbed her shoulder, trying to give comfort, but was beside himself as well.

Frances’ cries awoke Mistress Ina, who came to the bedside and touched her forehead.

“Weep not, sweet lady.”

Sean caressed her hair and spoke softly, “It must have been early, and the poison easily affected you.”

“My lady, I will go and have a bath brought and some foodstuff. That’ll make your stomach better and you’ll be feeling akin to your old self soon.” Mistress Ina touched her hair and looked motherly at her.

“Thank you, you’re so kind, Mistress.” Frances’ eyes rimmed with redness.

“Oh ‘tis my duty and pleasure, my lady. Do not despair at the loss of the bairn. You’ll have others and you will be well. I’ll return soon. You rest.” She left the chamber quietly.

He was hesitant to move off the bed. He didn’t know how Frances was going to take the news and she appeared distraught. He continued to comfort her by petting her hair while she cried into her pillow.

“I’m sorry, love, that I didn’t protect you.” Those words came out with such regret, for if there was one thing he held above all else it was protecting those in his care. Sean detested seeing her in such pain and if it was the last thing he’d ever do, the banshee would die by his hand.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Sean hoped to hell his clan would hurry their arses. He was in no mood to wait for retribution. As he sat alone in the great hall, he ran through his head those he suspected. And for all his mind reasoned, nothing would allow him to concede to one person in particular. The list was ever growing.

He’d visited Frances only a few minutes ago and already he missed her. Sean was despondent that he hadn’t been able to cheer her. Even Ermintrude hadn’t brought a smile to her bonny face when he took her to their chamber to share their morning fare.

A sennight passed since someone tried to kill her and the healer still would not allow Frances out of bed. Soon she would return to her jovial self.

Sean walked through the courtyard and barely noticed those around him. The autumn day cooled and soon Michaelmas would be upon them. He strolled outside the gates and amongst the field where he’d trodden when he’d first arrived – the day he’d considered his future. He needed a quiet place to think, and even so couldn’t come to any conclusion on who the killer was.

Sir John seemed the most likely choice, but having no proof, Sean couldn’t accuse him. He being an agent of the crown put Sean in a tedious position.

Then there was Lord Lombard, but the man went into hiding and didn’t seem capable of such evil even though he had reason to want to hurt his daughter. Additionally, there was no connection of him to the maid.

He considered Bantrum, but again, there was no proof that he’d killed Winifred or that he was angered by her betrothal. The man was just an peculiar person. He’d find out soon enough about his doings when Angus reported in.

No other suspects came to mind. Sean was baffled. For he knew someone close was the cause of all their troubles. Whoever tried to poison Frances was able to join in the celebration. None of the men he suspected were even close to his land. All his thoughts led him back to his suspicion that it had to be someone within the clan.

He decided there was no use in trying to figure it out. Something was bound to point them in the right direction eventually. Sean stepped around the field and there, were grown the purple flowers many women enjoyed during the season. He plucked a good amount of them and took them to Frances.

When he entered their chamber, he found her slumbering, and he left them on the trunk at the end of the bed. He felt her head which was cool to the touch. Thankfully she hadn’t gotten fever or infection.

Sean went to see Trudy, knowing she would brighten his spirits. Poor Alice appeared to have her hands full when the lass lay upon the flooring kicking and carrying on.

“Alice, go and take rest. I’ll see to the wee love for a bit.” The maid hastened to the door.

“Thank you, my lord.”

“Trudy, come, we’ll go outside for a bit and get some air.”

She stopped kicking and glanced up at him. “Can I bring my cat?”

He nodded. She hastened to pluck the furry thing from the floor and followed him. Sean took her hand when they neared the steps.

Once outside, they walked through the bailey and Sean spotted a few ducklings. Then he noticed the bucket nearby. He snatched it up and handed it to her.

“Do ye think you can round up all the ducklings?”

Trudy sniffled and nodded. She set her cat down and took the bucket from him. He leaned casually against the wall while she went about her task. Sean chuckled to himself as the lass scampered around trying to catch them.

“How many do you have?”

Trudy looked in her bucket. “One.”

“Just one?
Keep at it, wee love. We need to gather all the ducklings for its Momma.”

She continued to grab at the ducklings
who now quacked and were on to her. Only two ducklings remained. That meant she’d put two in the bucket.

Trudy cried out and shouted.
“Bad cat.”

Sean hastened to her and saw the limp duckling lying on the ground and her cat standing aside. It had taken the duckling in its mouth and killed it instantly. Trudy continued to cry.

“Nay, your cat is not bad at all, lass. That’s what cats do.”

She sniffled. “Is the duckling sleeping?”

He lifted her in his arms and nodded. “Aye.”

“Did she hurt it? Will it awake?”

Sean signed, for he wasn’t sure how much he should tell her of life and death. “Nay, it won’t awaken. The cat is a hunter. They’re fierce and stalk for a purpose, not to be bad. Do you understand?”

“Aye.
But the duckling’s momma will miss him.”

“She has three others that will keep her busy enough. Come, we’ll let your cat have her reward and I’ll retrieve it later. We’ll get you back inside.”

He set her back on the ground and tipped the bucket so the ducklings could run free. So much for trying to wear her out, and now he had to console her.

Sean took her hand and led her back to her chamber. On the way, he’d told Mistress Ina to have Alice fetched. No sooner had he entered the nursery, Alice returned.

“Why don’t you rest, wee love. When your momma awakens, I’ll take you for a visit.” He gave a wave and left.

He found his way back to the hall and paced. Nothing was going as planned this day.

He’d sent Jacob to take an accounting of the land and such, even though he should be there to protect his interest. Still, he trusted Jacob and discerned him to be a fair man. After the accounting was completed, he’d have to reward Jacob with some free time, because the man worked continuously for the past few weeks. Sean felt guilty about relying so heavily on him.

James entered, followed by a muscular man whose face appeared angry. They stopped before him, and James was about to make an introduction when the man shouted.

“Aye, so you’re the one who is supposed to stop this banshee? What are ye doing about it?” The man grabbed his tunic and shook him.

Sean took the man’s neck in his hands to get him to abate. But the man was too thick skinned to cut off any air to his lungs.

“That arse of a sheriff is doing nothing.”

“Who the hell are you?” Sean groaned out. He used a trick he’d learned from training with the
Gunns, and linked his leg through his opponent’s, and easily took him down. As the man fell, Sean had his sword unsheathed and ready for attack.

The man’s breath labored. “Stand down, my name’s
Rafe.”

No one threatened him without retribution, and Sean wouldn’t retreat. He held his sword tip at the man’s neck, pressing slightly, but not enough to prick his skin.

James stood by hiding a grin, for certain Sean almost made it out as the edges of his lips moved. James shifted his sword and helped the man up by offering a hand. “As much as I’d enjoy seeing you two fight, we’ve distressing news, Sean. This is Lord Ashford, his daughter went missing, the same night as our celebration. They’ve searched thoroughly for the lass, but to no avail.”

Sean shook his head and couldn’t believe what they told him. “I’m sorry, Lord Ashford. I will find this … banshee, worry not.”

“How can I not worry? My daughter is dead. Aye, alike the Lombard and village lassies.” The man scampered away, sat in the nearest chair, and started to bawl.

Sean glanced at James, and neither knew what to do. They were rescued from having to calm the man when Frances stepped into the hall. He was about to yell at her for being out of bed when she knelt next to the lord.

“Lord Ashford? Come now, don’t despair. We’ll find Reina. Our men will assist in the search. You must be strong now for her. She needs us all to be strong.”

Lord Ashford nodded and rose. “Lady Frances, I haven’t seen you for months. I was sorry to learn of Lord William’s death. Reina asked me to bring her for a visit, and we were going to come to the celebration but with the weather cooling, I had too much to do. Now I wish I hadn’t put her off.” He sniffed.

Frances handed him a cup of ale and stood beside him. Sean didn’t know what to make of it. She’d calmed the overlarge lord with soft words. At least he’d ceased blubbering.

“My lady, shouldn’t you be abed?” Sean raised a brow in question.

“Nay, I’m well enough to leave it for a few minutes. I heard Lord Ashford yelling and came to see what the commotion was about. Sean, we need to do something. Do you suspect anyone?”

“Lord Hume—”

“Sean, call me Sean. We’re neighbors, Rafe, and I’ll do anything to help. My own wife has been a victim of this clootie. Aye, he poisoned her during our harvest celebration. Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your daughter?” Sean bid the man to retake his seat, and he and James joined him at the table.

Mistress Ina came into the hall and set a tray of sweet cakes. How she knew when he had company, he’d never know, but the woman, he suspected could hear or see through the keep walls. “Oh, good, Mistress Ina, take Lady Frances back to our chamber.”

Frances huffed at being dismissed, but left willingly.

“Reina’s been going to the village and I am not sure … I recently betrothed her to Lord Lombard, but she’s balking at it and I’ve put him off.”

Sean left his chair, and he rounded the table, wanting to shout expletives to the rafters. Lord Lombard kept himself well hidden in the past few weeks and Sean almost dismissed him as focused as he was on Sir John. He’d planned to have someone trail him, but as his comrades hadn’t arrived yet, he’d wasn’t as concerned by him.

“Have you spoken to Lord Lombard?”

Rafe, Lord Ashford, joined him by the side table. “Aye, he just returned from the border, and I have spoken with him. He deems I’m trying to use this as an excuse to refute the betrothal. He claims I’ve hidden her. I vow I am not. I thought him a trustworthy man and worthy of my daughter’s hand. His wealth and prestige led me to believe …” his speech trailed off, and he looked at his feet. “She balked at the marriage. I should’ve trusted her judgment. Do you deem he’d do something so ghastly?”

Jacob returned and entered the hall. He marched toward him, and lately the man wore a sullen expression. “My lord, Archibald found Sabine.”

Sean’s head started to ache from all the distressing news. This day was getting worse by the minute. “Is she well? Alive?”

“Nay, she’s dead. I thought you might want to come with James to inspect the body. He found her on his trek to the village when a sack fell off his wagon and rolled near the woods.” Jacob turned to the door and they all followed.

Outside, he trudged to the wall, through the gate, and they trailed along.

“No need for horses, my lord. She’s only there,” he said, pointing toward the path that led to the village. They walked for all of ten minutes and found her in the center of the copse of trees lining the lane. Archibald stood next to his wagon looking downtrodden.

Sean wore a grim expression too, as did the rest of the men. James took his time assessing the body, and shook his head.

“Looks akin to thorn apple poisoning, Sean.
Aye, her lips are blackened like Winifred’s was. And there’s a rose in her hands and a piece of her gown torn away.”

He handed Sean a tartan for which they could carry her body in. The four men took hold of the fabric and carried her toward the keep. Once there, Sean directed she be taken to an empty cottage beyond the keep and asked Jacob to deliver the news to her mother.

Rafe stood next to him quietly watching the activity.

“I will send any news,
Rafe, if I have any. We won’t let up until we find him, I promise ye that. Send word if your daughter returns.” Sean turned and headed toward the door.

He entered the keep and kicked the heavy stone of the hearth. Sean despaired having to tell Frances, and decided he’d do his best to keep such news from her. She needed her spirits raised not torn asunder.

Seeing the lass’ body sickened him to the point that his heart ached. Aye, Sean had seen many dead bodies in his life, given the wars and fracas he’s participated in. He’d walked amongst battlefields where bodies flayed and ripped to shreds, to seeing heads hacked off, and limbs scattered. Blood had turned many a lush green field red.

And yet none of those images had ever affected him akin to seeing a young woman killed for God knew what reason.