Highland Warrior (23 page)
Authors: Connie Mason
“You didna leave Ravenscraig; you were forced to go. I was told MacKenna’s kinsmen blame Clan MacKay for the attack upon their laird.”
“How do you know? Has Seana has been in touch with you?”
Angus laughed. “Aye, she has been a font of information. MacKenna got what he deserved for stealing my intended bride. The feud never should have ended. Once Ross is dead, the fighting will resume, and your father will see the wisdom of giving you to me.”
“What wisdom? I doona ken your thinking. How will Ross’s death help you and Seana?”
“Seana will become mistress of Ravenscraig and wife to the new laird. ‘Twas all she ever wanted. As for me, one day you will ken what it is I desire, but now is not the time. You are here—’tis all that matters. Put away your sword, lass, afore you hurt yourself.”
Gillian raised her weapon. “I am going to kill you, Angus Sinclair.”
“My hands are clean, Gillian. No one can blame me for attacking your husband. Even if MacKenna has the wits to name his killer before he dies, it willna be me.”
“McHamish wouldna have attacked Ross if you and Seana hadna goaded him into it.”
Gillian jabbed Angus’s shoulder with the tip of her sword, drawing blood. Angus cursed and leaped backward. Immediately two kinsmen rushed to his defense.
“Coward!” Gillian taunted. “Are you afraid to defend yourself? Do you need help subduing a mere woman?”
“My sword,” Angus said.
One of Angus’s kinsmen tossed him a sword. He caught it handily and used it to push aside Gillian’s weapon. “I doona want to hurt my intended wife, lass. My future depends upon our marriage.”
“I will never become your wife,” Gillian spat. She raised her sword and leaped forward.
Sinclair seemed surprised at the fierceness of Gillian’s attack. Frantically he parried her savage thrusts. His shock at her expertise was evidenced in his deep scowl and by his eagerness to retreat from the sharp point of Gillian’s sword.
“Stop it, Gillian!” Angus spat. “Stop it, I say!”
Gillian ignored him, for she knew he finally realized he was fighting for his life. Though Angus was larger, stronger, and his sword heavier, Gillian was fast, accurate, and determined. She silently rejoiced when she saw sweat break out on Angus’s forehead. Even though it might mean her death, Gillian was determined to kill Angus Sinclair. Never had she wanted anything so badly.
Angus danced away and glanced at the blood flowing down his arm, where Gillian’s sword had pierced his flesh. “This is madness, Gillian. I doona want to kill you. Desist now or suffer the consequences.”
“Kill me if you can, Angus. If Ross dies, I have naught to live for.”
Angus skipped away from a particularly brutal thrust that could have slit his gullet. “This is ridiculous. Seize her!”
Angus’s guard was down. Gillian was preparing to lunge forward to deliver the lethal blow when she was seized from behind, her arms pinned at her sides and her sword plucked from her hand. Though she fought hard to escape, two of Angus’s kinsmen held her fast.
“Now then,” Angus said, wiping sweat from his forehead, “we will see who has the upper hand. Sinclair Keep was to be your home at one time; I hope you enjoy your stay here.”
“I amna staying,” Gillian proclaimed. “Only a coward refuses a challenge. Do you fear me so much that you had to call for help?”
Angus looked as if he wanted to strike her. His fists were clenched, his eyes dark with anger. “I fear no woman, Gillian MacKay. I need you alive; killing you would serve naught.”
“I doona ken your meaning. What will keeping me here against my will gain you? I am wed to another man.”
Angus grinned. “MacKenna is a dead man. If he isna dead yet, he will be soon, with a wee bit of help from a friend.”
“Are you suggesting one of Ross’s kinsmen would harm him? No one but Niall would gain from his death, and Niall would never harm Ross. I’d stake my life on it.”
Angus said naught. Gillian gasped; it suddenly occurred to her to whom Angus was referring. “Seana! You two are working hand in hand to end Ross’s life. Ross’s death will make her mistress of Ravenscraig.”
“Lock my intended wife in the tower,” Angus ordered. When Gillian started to protest, Angus said, “Fear not, Gillian; the tower chamber is comfortably furnished. I’m sure you will enjoy your stay there.”
Ravenscraig CastleGizela refused to allow Seana inside Ross’s chamber without supervision. Though Niall questioned her motives, the healer adamantly refused to back down. When Gizela wasn’t in attendance, Alice took her place.
The day after Gillian had been forcibly evicted from Ravenscraig, Ross awakened, his memory still confused as to the events that had caused the pain he was feeling. Though he had called out for Gillian time and again, he knew instinctively that the hand soothing his hot brow did not belong to his wife.
When the haze cleared from Ross’s eyes, he looked for Gillian, but saw Gizela instead. His mouth was so dry he had difficulty finding moisture to wet his tongue so he could speak.
“What... happened?”
“So you finally decided to join the living.” Gizela cackled. “What do you remember?”
“Naught. Have... I been ... drugged?”
“Only enough to ease your pain. Infection came despite my best efforts to prevent it.”
“Gillian...”
Before Gizela could answer, Ross’s eyes dosed and he drifted off to sleep—a healthy sleep this time, not the death-like state from which he had just emerged. Patting Ross’s cheek, Gizela left the chamber to tell Ross’s kinsmen that their laird had awakened and would recover. It had been touch-and-go for a while, and even Gizela had begun to doubt her healing skills. But she no longer doubted. Ross would live and bring Gillian back to Ravenscraig, where she belonged.
Seana met Gizela on the stairs. “What is the rush, old woman? Has the laird finally met his maker? Am I the new mistress of Ravenscraig?”
“If that is your hope, then I am the bearer of bad news. Our laird lives and will recover. He awakened and spoke to me just moments ago. Move aside. The laird’s kinsmen must be told.”
Seana and Angus had planned Ross’s demise carefully. Since it appeared that he was going to live, Seana hurried to her chamber to prepare another method guaranteed to bring Ross to a quick end.
Seana wasn’t ignorant when it came to herbs and poisons. She knew that certain household poisons could kill a man if given in hefty doses. She had filched a small bottle of arsenic used to kill rodents from Hanna’s store of poisons and hidden it in the chamber she shared with Niall. She retrieved it now and tucked it into her pocket, waiting for the right moment to use it. She and Angus Sinclair deserved to get what they both desired.
When Seana entered Ross’s chamber, she found Niall, Gordo, and several others crowded around the bed. Cursing her rotten luck, she joined Niall at Ross’s bedside.
“I heard Ross has awakened,” she said to her husband.
“Aye, Gizela said he spoke to her.”
Seana went still. “What did he say?”
Gizela must have heard, for she turned to glare at Seana. “Are you worried what he might say, lady?”
Seana shrugged. “Like everyone else, I was hoping Ross would name his assailant.”
“He will,” Gizela promised, her eyes glowing with a knowledge no one else possessed. “Mayhap you had best prepare for that day.”
Niall sent his wife a narrow-eyed look. “What does Gizela mean, Seana?”
“The healer speaks nonsense. Pay her no heed, husband. I am sure Ross will tell us who tried to kill him.”
Gizela turned to address Niall. “Will you ask Hanna to prepare a rich beef broth for Laird Ross?”
“Aye,” Niall said as he wheeled about and left.
“The laird needs his rest,” Gizela said, shooing everyone from the chamber. “I will summon you when he awakens again.”
Ross’s worried kinsmen filed out of the chamber. Seana hurried to catch up with Niall.
“You have other things to do, husband. Let me fetch the broth for Ross.”
Unaware of his wife’s duplicitous plans, Niall readily agreed. The kitchen was a woman’s province, and foreign to him.
Hanna had heard about Ross’s awakening and had already begun preparing beef broth when Seana entered the kitchen. After Seana relayed Gizela’s message, Hanna said, “Tell Gizela I will carry the broth up to Laird Ross when it is ready.”
“I’ll take it up,” Seana offered. “There is no reason for you to climb all those stairs when my legs are younger and stronger than yours.”
Suspecting naught, Hanna nodded. “Sit down and wait. It shouldna be long.”
The wait, though short, was too long for Seana. The sooner Ross got the poison, the quicker Niall would become laird of Clan MacKenna, and she the mistress of all she beheld. Seana smiled as Hanna ladled the broth into a bowl. Its rich, deep red suited Seana’s purposes perfectly. The arsenic would be undetectable.
Hanna set the bowl of steaming broth and a spoon on a tray and handed it to Seana. Seana turned and started down the long passageway to the hall. Glancing about to make sure she was alone, she reached into her pocket and removed the small bottle of poison. Balancing the tray in one hand, she removed the stopper and quickly poured the poison into the broth, stirring it with the spoon to blend it in. If she couldn’t have Ross, no one else would.
Seana continued on to Ross’s chamber. “It’s about time,” Gizela snapped when Seana entered the sick-room with the broth.
“Has Ross awakened?” Seana asked as she set the tray on the bedside table.
“Nay, but I am certain he will awaken soon. Now that his mind is clear, he will be able to name his assailant.”
“Shall I feed him the broth?” Seana asked, all innocence and concern.
Gizela’s eyes narrowed. “You doona fool me, lass. The devil in your eyes gives you away.”
Seana backed off. “I doona ken what you mean.”
“Leave me. I doona need your help.”
Seana turned to leave, but before she exited the chamber, she glanced over her shoulder and saw Gizela pick up the bowl and spoon and bend over Ross.
Everything was working out just as she’d planned. The old crone would be blamed for Ross’s death; no one would suspect Niall’s wife.
Gizela waited until Seana left the chamber and closed the door behind her before turning her attention to the broth. She stared into the bowl, examining the contents closely Then she held it to her nose and sniffed.
When Seana had entered the chamber with the broth, Gizela had seen a black aura surrounding her and realized she was up to no good. Her visions of late had been filled with warnings. She knew intuitively that someone in the keep wished the laird ill.
As Gizela stared into the broth, an image began to form. She saw a hand, a woman’s hand, emptying a foreign substance into the broth. Her eyes flared angrily when comprehension dawned. Not one drop of this vile brew, she vowed, would pass the laird’s lips. She carried the bowl to the window, opened the sash, and spilled the contents onto the rocks below. Then she pitched the empty bowl and spoon after it.
A few minutes later Alice entered with an armful of dean linen. “Mama wants to know if Laird Ross ate the broth.”
Without telling her why, Gizela asked Alice to fetch another bowl. “Bring it yourself, lass,” the healer said. “Doona let anyone else touch it.”
Alice sent her a puzzled look. “Was something wrong with the first bowl Mama sent up?”
“ ’Twas the bearer of the broth I didna trust. Do as I say, lass. Laird Ross is awakening and needs nourishment.”
Alice hurried off. She returned a few minutes later with a fresh bowl of broth and a clean spoon. Gizela stared at the contents several long moments before nodding acceptance.
“Laird Ross canna be left alone,” she told Alice. “He must be watched over closely and protected from those who wish him harm.”
“Does someone in the keep wish Laird Ross harm?” Alice asked, clearly aghast at the thought.
“Aye. Until he is aware of what is going on around him, he is not to be left alone with Seana. Will you help me keep him safe?”
Alice squared her shoulders. “You can trust me, Gizela. I will keep the laird safe for Gillian.”
“Gillian ...”
“The laird speaks,” Alice said in a hushed voice.
“Where is ... my ... wife?”
“You will see her soon, laddie,” Gizela soothed. “You must eat if you wish to regain your strength. Hanna made a tasty beef broth for you.” She dipped the spoon into the untainted broth and brought it to Ross’s lips. “Open your mouth, laird. The broth will strengthen your blood.”
Dutifully, Ross opened his mouth. He didn’t realize how hungry he was until the liquid rolled down his throat to his empty stomach. To Gizela’s obvious delight, he finished the broth to the last drop.
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