When a Laird Loves a Lady (Highlander Vows: Entangled Hearts Book 1) (32 page)

“Ye’ve me now,” Elspeth said,
linking her arm with Marion’s.

Marion smiled. “I’m glad. Can you
think of anything I could do to make Alanna a little more accepting of me?”

“Hmm.” Elspeth tilted her head in
thought. “Ye could take her some of my black pudding. She’s nae been feeling
well, and she loves it.”

Marion rubbed her aching temples
with her fingers. Exhaustion was creeping in, but she did want to try to make
things right with Alanna.

“That seems to be a good idea,”
Marion said, nodding.

Elspeth beamed at her. “I’ll just
get ye the black pudding.”

She scurried over to her worktable
and came back in short time with a dish of the pudding and a spoon with a
heaping serving of the pudding on it. She held the spoon out to Marion. “I
brought a bit for ye, too. Do ye like black pudding?”

Marion grinned. “I love it. My
father’s cook made excellent black pudding.”

“Mine will be better,” Elspeth
boasted.

Marion couldn’t resist. She took
the pudding Elspeth offered and ate a bite. It was delicious. “Elspeth,” she
said, “that is the best pudding I’ve ever had.”

Elspeth nodded. “Why don’t ye have
some more?”

“I couldn’t,” Marion replied, not
wanting to reveal that she was queasy, but Elspeth looked so downcast. “Just
one more.”

Elspeth laughed, went back to her
worktable, and returned with an even bigger bite for Marion. She quickly ate
it.

“Another?” Elspeth asked.

Marion held up the spoon. “I’ll
take this with me and have some with Alanna, if she offers. I really need to
go, though. Where does Alanna live?”

“Nae far from here.”

Marion bit her lip, thinking on
what to do.

“What’s wrong?” Elspeth asked, her
eyes wide.

Marion sighed. “I just remembered
that I told Iain I’d not leave the castle without taking Archibald. I’ll have
to go find him first.”

Elspeth shook her head. “Dunnae fash
yerself. Iain will nae ken, and ye’ll be back shortly.”

Marion shook her head. “He may not
know, but I would. I vowed to him.”

“I’ll go with ye, then,” Elspeth
offered.

“That’s sweet of you, but I think
Iain’s intent was for me to have one of his men with me at all times.” The look
of annoyance that flitted across Elspeth’s face made Marion laugh. “I feel the
same way about it.”

Elspeth forced a smile, and Marion
gave her a small wave as she left the kitchen.

She located Archibald in the great
hall, and they set off to Alanna’s.

They walked in silence for a while
as they strolled through the woods. Alanna and Rory Mac’s home seemed to be a
bit farther than Elspeth had indicated. A sharp pain stabbed Marion in the side
as they climbed uphill, and though the air was cold, she suddenly felt warm.

“Archibald,” she said, glancing at
him on a wave of dizziness. She reached for him as the earth beneath her seemed
to shift and another, more intense, pain cramped her belly.

Archibald’s eyes widened, and he
grasped her when she swayed again. “Marion, what’s wrong?”

“I don’t feel—”

She doubled over as pain sliced
through her stomach, and she broke out into a sweat. “I don’t feel well,” she
said, her voice trembling as the pain pulsed through her belly. Her throat felt
as if it was closing, and she gasped a breath of air, then another while
grasping her stomach, which was twisting into knots.

“Archibald,” she whispered. Her
mouth was suddenly very dry and her head pounded so hard that her vision
blurred.

“What is it?” he asked, his eyes
widening as he hovered over her. He patted her back and then hooked his hands
under her arms to help her stand, but when she tried, the agony was so intense
she screamed. And then, mercifully, everything went black.

Iain sat in the great hall surrounded by his
brothers, Angus, and Rory Mac to discuss once again the various ways Froste and
de Lacy might try to kill him and seize Marion. He contemplated every possible
scenario, thinking they had thought of them all, when a vile one occurred to
him. “They could plant a traitor amongst us to lure Marion or myself out, or
even to help them get inside.”

“Impossible,” Lachlan replied.
“None of our men are traitors.”

Iain didn’t want to think so,
either, but he had to consider everything. “I hope nae, but I must consider
everything. Who amongst us has any reason to be angry or feel as if they have
been wronged? Let us think on each of our men and make sure we feel they are
faithful.”

Before anyone could speak, a loud
commotion had them turning in the direction of the castle door. Suddenly,
Archibald’s voice filled the hall. “Help! Get Iain! Marion needs help!”

Iain shoved to his feet as black
fear covered his vision. He raced out of the great hall, his brothers, Rory
Mac, and Angus close behind, and came to terrified stop at the sight of Marion
in Archibald’s arms, her head thrashing wildly back and forth as she moaned.

“Marion!” he roared as he rushed to
Archibald and took his wife from him. Iain looked down at her, and his stomach
clenched. She was mumbling and her speech was slurred, and he could not
understand her. Then she began to twitch and convulse in his arms, white foam
coming from her mouth.

All around him shouting reigned,
and then Bridgette was beside him with Kyla, screaming at him to lay her on the
ground. He kneeled, feeling dazed, almost not in his body, as they pushed him
aside to tend her. Bridgette thrust a long piece of her gown that she tore off
in Marion’s mouth, between her teeth, and Kyla attempted to hold Marion’s arms
still. But Marion was delirious and fighting Kyla. She clawed at the woman, and
Iain moved closer as Lachlan kneeled down. They each held an arm as Bridgette
pulled Marion’s lids up and looked into her unusually wide pupils.

Bridgette rocked back on her
haunches, her face white as a sheet. “I’ve seen a thing such as this afore,”
she choked out, tears filling her eyes. “I think she’s been poisoned.”

Panic rioted through him as he pushed
back against her bucking body. “What can we do?”

“Turn her on her side,” Bridgette
said, swiping at her tears. “We must make her empty her stomach.”

Together, Iain and Lachlan did as
Bridgette had said, while everyone stood around them murmuring their fear and
concern. As soon as the convulsions stopped, Bridgette took the material from
between Marion’s teeth and stuck her finger down Marion’s throat. Immediately,
Marion let loose the contents of her stomach. And then Bridgette repeated the
process, until there was simply nothing left and Marion fell into
unconsciousness.

Sobbing, Bridgette murmured, “I
dunnae ken what else to do. What happens next depends on how much poison she
swallowed and when, and whether the dose was fatal.”

Fatal.
The word hit him like a fist forged of steel. She could not die. She had become
like his air. Like water. Like a bright ray of sun that warmed his soul. He
loved her. He did. It was simple. It was complicated, too, but it was a fact he
would not want to change. He wanted to wrap Marion in his embrace and never let
her out of his arms again. He wanted to worship her body and sit for hours
learning the secrets of her heart. He wanted to tell her he loved her and that
he was the biggest clot-heid of all to have taken so long to realize it. He
closed his eyes, and prayed to God that He grant Marion continued life.

When Bridgette gasped, Iain’s eyes
flew open. He looked at Marion, who was still on her side, and seeping onto the
floor around her was blood.

“What’s happening?” he shouted at
Bridgette as he turned Marion over to see the front of her gown soaked with
crimson. He gathered Marion in his arms, careful to cradle her head. His heart
beat painfully as he held her.

When Bridgette did not answer but
gave him an anguished look, he thundered, “Tell me.”

Bridgette, her face pinched, set
her hand on Iain’s arm. “I vowed to her I would nae tell ye. She wanted to.”

“Bridgette,” Iain growled,
perilously close to losing his control. Angus kneeled beside Iain and looked
worriedly at Marion.

Bridgette heaved a breath. “She’s
losing yer bairn,” Bridgette blurted, sobbing anew.

The news tore at his insides, and
around him, he could see the shock on his family’s and clansmen’s faces.

“Come,” Bridgette and Kyla both
said. “We must get her upstairs to a bed.”

“Someone needs to fetch Fiona,”
Alanna said from her place beside Rory Mac in the circle. Iain blinked at her,
realizing he’d not even known she’d arrived. And when he glanced around the
room, he realized most of the women from the kitchen were there, all looking
terribly upset. Marion had made friends. Happiness and anguish collided at
once. Would she live to realize it?

“Fiona?” Iain repeated, angered
that Alanna would even suggest that he should bring Fiona back to tend to
Marion.

Alanna walked toward him and gave
him a determined look. “Aye. If Marion lives, she’ll need a healer, and Fiona
is a strong one. Set yer anger aside for yer wife.”

He glanced at Bridgette, who
nodded. “Marion would want that.”

Iain curled his fingers tighter
around Marion’s body, knowing he didn’t have much time to decide. He needed to
get her to the bedchamber. “What of the bairn?” he asked, his voice cracking.

Bridgette shook her head as tears
rolled down her cheeks. “I dunnae ken of a way to save a new bairn nae yet out
of the stomach, especially nae this new.”

“Iain,” Alanna said softly, putting
her hand on his arm. “Let Rory Mac go for Fiona. Maybe she can save Marion.
It’s too late for the bairn.”

“Ye dunnae ken that,” he argued,
tormented.

“I think I do,” she whispered, her
eyes glassy with unshed tears. “I’ve lost two bairns myself.”

Iain met Rory Mac’s sympathetic
gaze. “Go,” Iain choked out. Pulling Marion close to his chest, he moved toward
the stairs flanked by Bridgette and Alanna. He climbed up to their bedchamber
and laid Marion on the bed, then stepped back to allow Bridgette and Alanna to
clean her. As they worked, his mind turned with what had happened, and a
thought occurred that so enraged him that he clenched his teeth until his jaw
throbbed painfully. When Bridgette and Alanna were done cleaning Marion, he
went to her side, dropped to his knees, and buried his head against her chest.

He listened and caught the sound of
her faint heartbeat. “I love ye,” he choked out, struggling to control his
emotions. “I love ye, do ye hear?” But she didn’t. He ran a hand over her flat
stomach that had held their bairn. His gut twisted and his throat tightened as
he settled his palm there and said a prayer for their child’s soul. He was not
a crying man. He’d not cried when Catriona had died, though his grief had been
all-consuming, yet now tears stung his eyes with grief for the bairn he’d never
know, for the possibility that he might lose Marion, for the pain she would
feel when she learned she’d lost their bairn. It gripped him in a clutch that
made each breath painful.

He forced himself to sit up and
turn to Bridgette. She stood in a corner with Alanna, and when she saw him
looking at her, they came toward him. He stood to speak to the women. “Ye said
Marion had been poisoned?”

“Aye. Her symptoms were all the
same as a man in our clan whose wife poisoned him with belladonna.”

He scrubbed a hand over his face,
fighting back the tiredness threatening to consume him. “Who would do this?” he
asked, more to himself than Bridgette, but Bridgette’s eyes grew wide.

“I dunnae mean someone here
poisoned her. She could have accidentally eaten the berries. They look like
fruit.”

“Nay.” His one word cut through the
air and made Bridgette jerk. “Marion knows herbs and medicine. I’m sure she
knows the poisonous berries. The only person I would have even imagined might
do this would have been Fiona, but she was nae here.”

Alanna made an angry sound and then
glared at him. “Ye are wrong when it comes to Fiona. Elspeth is the one ye
should have sent away.”

Iain narrowed his gaze, his heart
thumping an angry beat. “What do ye mean?”

Alanna sighed. “I tried to tell ye
afore, but ye would nae listen. It was nae Fiona’s idea to give Marion
Catriona’s gown. It was Elspeth’s. Fiona refused to do it but, well, she got
angry with yer wife and then went ahead and did it against her better
judgment.”

“Elspeth is a deceiver,” he bit
out, curling his hands into fists.

“Aye!” Alanna cried. “It’s time
someone saw the truth in Elspeth. She appears meek, but I ken she brought trouble
on Fiona when Rhona’s bairn died. Though she knew Fiona was nae to blame, I vow
she told the other women she was! And if ye think she loved Catriona, ye’re
wrong. Elspeth used to laugh at Catriona’s weakness, which is why Catriona,
Fiona, and I never had time for her.”

Iain frowned at the news. Catriona
had never spoken ill of Elspeth. Then again, Catriona had never spoke ill of
anyone. The thunderous anger growing inside him was threatening to whisk away
his reason. “If Elspeth is to blame, she must have more in her possession.
Would either of ye ken belladonna if ye saw it?”

“I would,” Bridgette replied,
looking as enraged as Iain felt.

“Will ye stay here and watch over
Marion?” he asked Alanna. She nodded immediately.

When Iain and Bridgette opened the
bedchamber door, Angus was waiting, as well as Kyla, Neil, Archibald, and
Iain’s brothers. Angus was the first to speak, and Iain had to swallow hard
when he saw tears in the man’s eyes.

“How is she?” Angus croaked.

“Nae good,” Iain managed to say in
a steady voice.

“Laird,” Kyla said, “may I be of
service?”

He forced a smile. “I thank ye. If
ye’d stay with Alanna and Marion, Bridgette and I are going to see Elspeth.”

“Certainly,” Kyla replied and quickly
moved past him into the bedchamber.

When the door shut behind her, the
questions came at him from every direction. “I’ll explain as we go,” he said,
and as the group worked its way to Elspeth’s house—only to find it empty—and
then to the kitchen, he told them all he knew.

When he opened the door to the
kitchen to find it empty of all the women except Elspeth, Iain knew he had
missed something he should have seen long ago. Elspeth was the only one who had
not come to attend Marion when word had spread so rapidly of her illness.

“Laird,” Elspeth cried out. “Who
killed Marion?”

“Who killed Marion?” Angus
bellowed. “She’s nae dead yet.” The older Scot snarled and stepped toward
Elspeth, who scrambled away.

Iain reached out and pulled Angus
back, though it was hard to see with the anger clouding his vision. He handed
Angus to Lachlan and motioned to Graham and Archibald. “Seize her.”

The men had Elspeth by the arms
just as she let loose a shriek. Iain ignored her screams and went with
Bridgette to Elspeth’s workstation. Bridgette began to poke around, shaking her
head and mumbling. “I don’t see anything,” she said, slamming her hand against
the counter. A tankard fell from the edge, landing between Bridgette and Iain’s
feet, and dark blue berries poured out. Bridgette gasped and knelt to the
ground, carefully picking up a berry with the edge of her skirt. She rose and
nodded as her face twisted into a mask of fury. “This is belladonna.”

All the blood rushed from Elspeth’s
face, and she suddenly went limp in Graham and Archibald’s hold. Iain stared
down at the woman. He wanted answers, but now that Elspeth would be safely
locked away, she could wait. Marion needed him.

“Put her in the dungeon,” he told
Graham and Archibald and then stepped around her without a backward glance and
headed back to Marion.

He spent the night watching his
wife, who lay still as death until she was suddenly screaming and delirious.
She thrashed on the bed and tried to claw at her skin, which had broken into a
red, angry rash. He held her until the fit had passed, and then he took the
sponge that Bridgette silently handed him and dabbed her until his eyes were so
blurry he had to close them.