My Highland Lover (28 page)

“Gettin’ anything?” Trulie slid a hand along the cool, damp wall at her back until she found Granny’s arm. Karma’s tail thumped against her leg as the dog pressed closer.

“Nothing,” Granny whispered.

Trulie had been afraid that would be Granny’s response, because if she didn’t pick up the slightest vision, then chances were Granny wouldn’t sense any energy either. Trulie squinted across the night-shrouded garden. The partial sliver of moon hanging low over the horizon cast a ghostly pall across the gray-white slabs of stepping-stones and rows of gently swaying plants. Maybe this wasn’t the best idea, Trulie decided, a bit too late. Maybe it was the wrong night to catch the would-be assassin. Trulie snorted out a disgusted breath. There were just too damn many maybes whirling through the air.

“Are you sure it was this garden?” Granny slid closer, visibly flinching as her shoe crunched in the dry soil piled against the wall.

“Shh,” Trulie reprimanded her. Without looking back, she settled a quieting hand atop Karma’s head at the dog’s soft, impatient growl. “You finally received the same premonition. Didn’t it look like this garden to you?”

Granny’s pale skin glowed in the darkness as she leaned forward and looked from east to west. She puckered her lips, wrinkled her nose, and adjusted the position of her glasses. “Yep. This was it. But a lot has happened since then. Things could change. That was before we found out about Fearghal and Beala. My vision hasn’t recurred since then. Has yours?”

“Just the part about Colum.” Trulie glanced around the perimeter of the garden, then pressed back against the wall. “I told you what the earl said. From the sound of his warning, the premonition must still be good.”

The slightest movement in the shadows of the far wall caught Trulie’s attention. Karma murmured a low warning growl. Trulie squeezed Granny’s arm and brought a silencing finger to her mouth, then pointed at the dark figure moving slowly toward the corner where the foxglove grew. Karma crouched into attack stance, both ears perked toward the figure.

The sliding crunch of metal sinking into wet soil echoed through the night. Trulie stared at the darkened corner until her eyes watered from the strain. Whoever was after the poisonous plant had decided to dig it up after the summer rain, rather than be satisfied with snipping off a few of its leaves.

Trulie snagged hold of Granny’s sleeve and settled her other hand atop Karma’s head. “Stay here. Both of you.” Trulie gathered up her skirts and eased away from the wall.

Granny nodded once as she pressed flatter against the wall. Karma softly whined his disagreement, but rolled back on his haunches and sat beside Granny.

Keeping her gaze focused on the cloaked figure wrestling with the plant, Trulie crouched low and skittered to the far wall adjacent to the foxglove. Whoever it was must not be used to manual labor. Every time the shovel bit into the dirt, Trulie distinctly heard a huffing grunt.

Trulie sized up the figure cloaked all in black. The person didn’t seem to be very tall. As a matter of fact, Trulie bet she could tackle whomever it was to the ground. The more she thought about it, the better she felt about the plan. Yep. That’s exactly what she was going to do. Tackle the scum and sit on his chest while Granny went for help.

Trulie tensed, waiting for the perfect moment to spring. As the shadowy form bent to yank the plant free of the ground, Trulie launched across the last few feet of garden between them. Trulie’s solid hit knocked them both to the ground. A surprised outrushing of air sounded as Trulie landed atop the hooded culprit.

Karma growled as he leapt across the garden and joined Trulie. The dog couldn’t stand idle any longer. But as Trulie and her prey rolled to a stop, Karma took one step forward, snuffled the heavy cloak, then woofed a happy greeting and wagged his tail.

“Coira!” Trulie fell back on her heels as Coira flailed her way out of the hooded garment.

“By the fires of hell, Mistress Trulie. Ye damn near broke me neck.” Coira pushed Trulie off her chest and rolled to a sitting position. “Lore a’mercy. I thought ye were with the MacKenna.”

“What the crap are you doing here digging up the foxglove?” Trulie pushed Coira back down to the ground as she scrambled to her feet. What a way to spend a night, mud wrestling with Coira.

“Can ye no’ believe what yer own eyes tell ye? If I get rid of the herb, there willna be no murders.” Coira yanked the hem of her léine to her face and wiped at the mud splashed across her forehead.

“Trulie.” Granny’s urgent whisper called across the garden.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming out here?” Trulie huffed an expletive under her breath as she waved a hand toward Granny. “In a minute, Granny. I’m busy stalking Coira.”

“A quick temper is a verra ugly trait in a woman.” Coira stood and shook out her skirts.

Karma whined as he stared back toward Granny, his tail wagging in a slow rhythm.

“Trulie.” Granny called out again, her voice stronger this time.

“What is it?” Trulie turned with an exasperated snarl. Tonight had been a total waste of time. Why hadn’t that stupid vision shown her it was Coira messing with the poisonous plant?

“I’ve seen who our prospective murderer is.” Granny scurried across the garden like a rabbit seeking shelter.

“What?” Trulie couldn’t believe what Granny had just said. How could Granny know who the assassin was? Trulie hadn’t received any new premonitions. All she’d gotten was a shortened version of the first one. “What did you just say?”

Granny pressed a hand to her chest as she glanced back across the shadowy expanse of the garden. She swallowed hard and licked her lips as she gasped for breath. “Dammit to hell. I’m too old for a night run through the garden.”

“Calm down.” Trulie rubbed a hand up and down Granny’s narrow, bent back. “Take a deep breath and tell us what you saw as soon as you catch your breath. You can’t die on me now.” Trulie slipped Granny’s hand into her own and lightly patted it. “Are you sure you really had the vision or were you just rehashing the one I told you I had?”

Granny shot Trulie a withering look that clearly said
Don’t even go there.

Kicking the quickly wilting plant to one side, Trulie bent, scooped up the spade, and jammed it into the ground. “Look. I’m not saying I doubt you. But I haven’t picked up anything new since the last one. I’ve only seen the part about Colum since Beala and Fearghal died. I just keep going over the same details to try to catch our suspect. Are you sure that’s not what you’re doing?”

Granny folded her arms across her chest and jerked her chin down in a decisive nod. “I’m positive. The killer is a woman and she looks a lot like Aileas.”

Trulie tried to wrap her mind around the fact that Granny had gotten a warning and she hadn’t. And someone who looked like Aileas? Seriously? Trulie shivered. She hadn’t noticed anyone around the keep fitting that description. “Coira, have you seen anyone who looks just like Aileas working in the kitchens?”

“Nay.” Coira shivered with such a look of disgust; Trulie didn’t doubt she’d seen no one fitting that description.

Granny’s eyes narrowed as she wrinkled her nose and stared down at the foxglove. “I’m certain of it. She definitely works in the kitchens.” Granny paused and tilted her head as though watching something crawl among the plant’s leaves. “But it seems as though she’s hidden from the others. It’s very strange. And she brought her own poisoned leaves…or maybe it’s just she always keeps them with her.” Granny frowned harder, her face puckering with the effort. “The herbs are tucked in a drawstring bag. She wears it looped around her neck and tucked way down in her shirt.” Granny turned her head to one side as though trying to improve her view. “She’s afraid someone is going to find the poison. She’s afraid if she doesn’t do the job right…” Granny squinted her eyes shut tighter, slowly tilting her head as though following movement. “She can never go back to wherever she came from. Her hands shake every time she rubs some kind of braided chain of hair hanging around her neck. It’s looped through a hole in the bag of poison.”

Granny’s hands knotted into shaking fists. “She’s standing back there in the shadows. She’s got a strange look on her face. She might even be laughing. It’s…it’s hard to say. What is she watching?” Granny stomped her foot as her eyes popped open. “You and I were standing in front of a stone mausoleum. We were holding each other, crying. You had one of those brooches with the MacKenna insignia in your hand. That woman must be stopped.”

A gnawing uneasiness nagged at the back of Trulie’s mind. Why hadn’t she seen what this mysterious woman had done? Why had the newest version of the vision only come to Granny?

Gray cradled his head in his hands, massaging his thumbs into his temples in slow, tight circles. “Explain again how ye choose which things ye will attempt to change and which ye willna bother?” Trulie’s logic made his head hurt. He would ne’er understand it.

“Premonitions haven’t happened yet.” Trulie paced around the small confines of the underground chamber used for storing root vegetables through the winter. She turned and faced Gray as she reached the farthest earth wall of the dugout chamber opposite the heavy oak door. “When Fate sends me a premonition, depending on the feel of it, it’s kind of like an invitation to change it before the bad thing happens. A blessing from Destiny.” Trulie shrugged as if she couldn’t fathom why Gray didn’t understand.

“And Granny can identify the woman who wishes me dead?” Gray stood in the open doorway of the hole. He had ne’er liked this room, and since the stench of Fearghal’s prison chamber, close spaces disturbed him even more. Gray’s skin crawled with the damp chill of the place. He shifted his weight from foot to foot. Lore, he hoped they finished soon.

Trulie nodded as she lifted the lid of a wooden barrel and peered inside. “Yes. Granny said she got a good look at the woman’s face. She said she looks a lot like Aileas.”

“Aileas?” Gray stifled a shudder. Had nature been so cruel as to have used that same mold twice?

“Yeah. That was my reaction too.” Trulie eased the lid back down on the barrel and dusted dirt from her hands. “So, can you think of anyone who meets that description?”

Gray mentally sorted through all the servants he could think of. Try as he might, no Aileas look-alike came to mind. “Nay.” He finally shook his head. “But if Cook just put her to work in the kitchens, I may no’ have seen her.”

He motioned Trulie forward out of the depths of the cellar. “Come. Get Granny and I’ll send for Colum. We’ll take a walk through the kitchens and see if we can oust Donall’s hired assassin.”

Trulie sneezed, scrubbed her arms, and nodded her agreement. “There’s something else I need to ask Granny. Something really bothers me about her vision.”

“What bothers ye?” Gray took the braided rope of onions from Trulie and supported her arm while she climbed up the narrow stone steps. He hadn’t understood why Trulie had decided to feign an errand to the root cellar to share the news of Granny’s discovery, but the longer he was around Trulie, the more he learned it was no use questioning her motives. The complicated woman usually had good reason.

“I didn’t get the vision too.” Trulie frowned down at the floor as she emerged from the narrow hallway and stepped out into the wide, airy space of the kitchen’s full larder.

Gray didn’t see the problem, but apparently Trulie was quite troubled that Granny was the sole receiver of the vision. “Mayhap ye have been too distracted to properly receive the vision.”

Trulie frowned and shook her head. “Maybe. I’m hoping Granny can explain it.”

“Do ye no’ think the woman will attempt to flee when she sees the lot of us enter the kitchens?” Tamhas counted them off with a bent finger. “The five of ye and Gray? Lore, how big is this woman to warrant such an army?”

“Colum’s guarding the door leading out to the gardens in case she makes a break for it.” Trulie pulled Granny to the front of the group and pointed her toward the archway leading to the kitchen. “We’re all going to walk in the kitchen. As soon as you see her, let me know. Gray and I will do the rest.”

Granny folded her spindly arms across her small frame and gave Trulie a strange up-and-down look. “You still don’t know what the girl looks like?”

“I was going to ask you about that. Why would you have received the new vision, but I didn’t? I saw the last one about Gray and Colum, but that was before a lot happened that has apparently changed the outcome of that particular vision. This time, you said you saw so much more, and I didn’t get the vision at all. Am I losing my touch, Granny?”

A thoughtful scowl knotted Granny’s brow. She bowed her head and closed her eyes.

Trulie held her breath. She knew what Granny was doing. She was replaying the premonition in her head. Uneasiness rolled Trulie’s stomach into a nauseated knot. If she got through this ordeal without puking, it would be a miracle.

Granny finally raised her head, looked at Gray, and frowned even more. “Now, I remember seeing Colum stretched out on the stone, but I didn’t see Gray.” Granny pressed both hands to her cheeks, scowling as if straining to bring the vision into focus. “Even though I didn’t see Gray, I know his body had to be in the mausoleum. I could feel Trulie’s heart breaking.”

Trulie put a reassuring arm around Granny. “It’s okay if you can’t tell for sure. We don’t want Colum poisoned either.” With a sheepish nod toward the kitchen, Trulie continued. “But that still doesn’t explain why I didn’t get the vision too. Am I losing my touch?”

“No.” A knowing smile curled Granny’s mouth to one side. “It just means you’re pregnant.”

Trulie’s knees nearly buckled as Granny’s words sunk in. “I can’t be pregnant.” A tiny voice inside her head counted off exactly how many days had passed since her least favorite time of the month.
Crime-a-nitly. Pregnant? Oh holy crap.
“But I’ve been drinking those nasty seeds. You said they would work.”

Granny just chuckled in response.

Gray made a strangled coughing sound as though someone had just knocked the wind out of him.