“Did he get ill?” Kenna continued her questions.
Dorie shook her head. She couldn’t be sure, of course. But he’d had enough energy to get into a fight the night before, so he wasn’t as bad off as she.
“Was there anything you ate or drank that burned your tongue? Something the dog didn’t have?”
Dorie’s thoughts piqued at that specific question. She’d found a small skin of ale with her stores she hadn’t noticed before and had some with her meal. But it had tasted bitter and burned her tongue. She’d only had a swallow before tossing it out. She motioned a gesture for drink and nodded.
Kenna frowned and let out a sigh.
“What is it? What ails her?” Bryce asked with a scowl.
“I think your wife has been poisoned.”
Chapter Six
Poisoned? Bryce stared down at the woman lying in his bed with clammy skin and wide eyes. She surely didn’t look well, but poisoned? Who would want Dorie dead?
“Why do you think it’s poison?” he asked. He didn’t want to doubt Kenna. She’d become a fine healer in the years since coming to Dunardry, but still, she wasn’t Abagail.
“If it had just been a queasy stomach, I might have thought she’d eaten something spoiled. Even the weakness and the headache could speak to such. But her heartbeat—quickened and irregular as it is—is a telltale sign of foxglove poisoning.”
He led Kenna quickly from the room so they could speak in private. There was no reason to make his wife panic with such silly ideas.
“What are ye talking about?” Bryce accused.
Before Kenna could open her mouth to answer, a deep voice sounded close behind him.
“I love you like a brother, Bryce,” Lach thundered. “But if you don’t unhand my wife and stop hissing at her, I’ll take your arm off without blinking.”
Bryce hadn’t realized he’d grasped Kenna’s arm so tightly, or at all, for that matter.
“Forgive me,” he said, with genuine remorse, removing his hand. He’d been tense since seeing Dorie, but the thought of poison had his own heart racing erratically.
“I think she’ll be fine. If I understood her correctly, she threw out the ale after a sip, so she couldn’t have taken in much of the poison.”
Bryce understood that as well from Dorie’s gestures. The woman had a knack for communicating in every way but her voice.
“What? Who was poisoned?” Lach stepped closer and looked over Bryce’s shoulder to see Dorie lying in the bed. His brows came down in a menacing way. Lach took responsibility for everyone in the clan. It made him a great laird, but it was an impossible task for one man to take on.
“Have you angered someone?” Lach asked Bryce, as if the line of his enemies wrapped around the castle. Bryce winced. Perhaps just to the gate.
“Nay. No more than you have.” Bryce thought briefly of his altercation with Wallace McCurdy and the threat Bryce had made, but brushed it off. The man had wanted to be free of his sister, and he was indeed free of her now. What reason would he have to kill her?
“What about jealous lovers?” the laird reasoned, making Bryce laugh.
“You know well enough I’ve no one wanting to keep me warm at night.”
“True. Who would want to be stuck with a miserable old goat like ye?” The man scraped his fingers over his whiskers in thought.
Bryce wasn’t insulted by the comment, for it was true enough. He felt much older than his years. “Could it have been an accident?” Bryce asked.
Kenna shrugged. “I suppose so, but I’m not sure who would have made such a mistake.”
Lach’s eyes narrowed. Bryce recognized it as an idea.
“What are you thinking?” Bryce pushed.
Lachlan shook his head. “I was just wondering if mayhap it wasn’t an accident. You say she didn’t take enough to be permanently harmed. What if that was intentional? Maybe she only took enough for this.” He waved at Dorie lying in Bryce’s bed.
Bryce knew he should mention that he’d heard her speaking to the dog. How he’d heard her singing while in the cottage. It was proof she’d misrepresented herself. If she’d taken poison to gain access to the castle, she might truly be a threat.
The sound of a hand smacking Lach’s arm brought Bryce’s attention to Kenna and her unhappy scowl.
“Lachlan MacKinlay, how dare ye accuse the poor girl of such a thing? You saw well enough how the McCurdys treated her. She’s happy to be here, anyone can see it.”
“She could be a good actress,” Lach defended himself. “The tattered dress and no shoes could have been part of a ruse.”
Bryce gave the idea a moment or two to spin around his mind but eventually he shook his head. “Nay. Her fear of Wallace was real enough. As was her fear when he’d demanded her blood on a sheet. It wasn’t her idea to fake the consummation, and I doubt she would have been willing to give up her maidenhead for a bastard like Dougal McCurdy.”
Lach nodded, obviously agreeing with Bryce’s assessment. He frowned again and ran his hand over the back of his head. “Do you think she might be so unhappy she wished to do away with herself? You left her alone. Perhaps she doesna want to go on being cast aside.”
“I don’t see that kind of misery in her eyes,” Kenna said. “She cried yesterday when we went to visit her, but it was with frustration more than hopelessness. She was excited to come to the castle today to learn to cook. If she wanted to gain access to the castle, she had that already. If she was lonely, she had plans to be with us today.”
Lach nodded again. “For now we’ll keep watch over her. Either for her protection or for ours.”
Bryce nodded and kept silent about his wife’s ability to speak. For some reason it felt like something to be addressed privately.
But soon enough, he’d get an answer.
…
Dorie wasn’t sure what the group outside Bryce’s room was discussing. They were too far away for her to hear, and she was distracted by trying to figure out how she might have come to be poisoned. Perhaps her new husband had enemies and mistook her for an opportunity to hurt him.
She might have laughed at such a thought if it weren’t for the seriousness of the attempt on her life.
Eventually Kenna came back into the room and smiled down at her. “I’m going to have food sent up.”
Dorie winced.
“I know you don’t have much of an appetite, but you need to eat something to get your strength back.”
Dorie nodded. She would try her best.
A serving girl brought broth and bread. Dorie had only managed a few bites of both before Bryce walked in.
“You must eat all of your food.” He frowned at the barely touched broth. “I’m told it’s the only way you’ll be strong enough to get out of my bed.”
Of course he wouldn’t appreciate her taking up space in his room. She gasped and sat up, planning to leave, but the room spun around her.
“Rest easy. It was but a jest.” He winked at her, and she relaxed when she realized he was teasing her. He closed the door and came to sit next to her on the bed.
“How do you feel?” he asked. It wasn’t an empty question as most people asked. It was as if he truly expected her to answer him. Aloud.
She might have considered it if Mari hadn’t knocked just then and come in.
“Do you need anything?” she asked.
Dorie shook her head and offered her friend a smile.
“Who would do something like this?” Her question was directed toward Bryce.
“We can’t think of a reason for anyone to want to hurt Dorie. So it must have been an accident,” Bryce answered.
“An accident?” Mari didn’t seem any more convinced of that possibility than Dorie felt. Mari turned her question to Dorie. “Your brother Wallace was a monster. Do you suppose he had so
mething to do with this?”
Dorie shrugged. It had crossed her mind more than once in the time since she’d found out she was poisoned. But why would he bother? She was no longer his responsibility. If he’d wanted her dead, he could have done so long before now. It would have been easy to poison her when she still lived at Baehaven.
“We’re not sure,” Bryce said. “What we do know is she needs to finish her meal and rest.”
Mari took the hint and patted Dorie’s hand. “I’ll be back later to visit after you’ve rested.”
A rest sounded good. Dorie was exhausted. Plus it would keep Bryce from pressing her to speak. It was clear he was waiting for a chance to bring it up again. However, he waited until she finished her food, then he took the tray and left.
She tried to sleep, but her mind continued to conjure up possible enemies. Who would want to be rid of her? She swallowed when she realized Bryce was the one person who truly didn’t want her around. He’d done his duty and married her. But now they were wed, could he be trying to get rid of her?
He’d married her only to make an alliance. He’d said so himself. What did he need her for now?
Not a thing.
…
Bryce checked on Dorie a few times throughout the day. Each time she was resting peacefully. Kenna assured him she would be fine. Her heartbeat had evened out and her appetite had returned.
“I’ll have Liam guard her.”
“Do ye really think that’s necessary?” Kenna asked.
Bryce remembered how much Kenna hated being looked after when Lach had posted guards to protect her. He didn’t imagine Dorie would like it overmuch, either, but he’d rather have an irritated wife than a dead one.
“Aye. For now. I’d rather be safe.”
“So you care for her?” Kenna cocked her head, a small smile pulling up her lips.
Bryce frowned at the woman. It figured Kenna would try to make this arrangement into a love match. She, being quite fond of her husband, wanted every marriage in the clan to be a loving one.
He growled at her. “I have a duty to her and nothing more. Don’t try to make this into something it’s not.”
Kenna pouted, though Bryce knew her well enough to know she wasn’t even close to giving up. Kenna didn’t know the meaning of defeat. Bryce was in store for meddling. That was for certain.
“I’ll have her protected, though I don’t need to be the one to do it. Let me know when she’s well enough that I may have my bed back.”
“There’s plenty of room…”
He gave Kenna another scowl and rushed off. He knew well enough the bed was big enough for the two of them. Especially since his wife was so thin. Though he’d noticed briefly as Kenna and Mari had stripped off her gown that the lass wasn’t without lush curves.
He’d pushed away thoughts of those curves while she was sick, but now that she was on the mend, he recalled the swell of bosom he’d seen when her shift fell open a few days ago.
In a foul mood, he was fit for a fight when he reached the bailey and found his men standing around doing nothing.
“What’s this? Did you all wake up lazy today?”
Galen was the unlucky one to speak first. “We are awaiting a wagon to go out to Cam’s house. We were told we’re to be working there this afternoon.”
“And who told you that?”
“The laird,” Galen answered.
This news didn’t make Bryce any happier. Bryce was the war chief, but Lach, as laird, was the only person in the clan who could overrule Bryce’s command. Once again he and his cousin didn’t agree on orders.
As usual when he was fed up with the way Lach did things, he thought of his father’s letter last year, inviting him to take his rightful place within clan Campbell.
He pushed the thought away.
“Fine. But Liam, ye will stay behind. I have another job for ye.”
Liam frowned but voiced no complaint. The lad was smart and rarely objected to any task. He’d been an orphan when the old laird brought him to the castle and gave him small jobs. He grew up in the shadow of the castle, helping to clean weapons and run messages until he was big enough to carry his own sword.
The other men loaded their tools into the wagon and left for Cam’s manor house.
“What do you wish me to do?” Liam asked.
“You’ll stay with my wife and see her safe. You’ll also watch to make sure she doesna speak to anyone in private.”
Liam’s brows creased and he leaned in closer. “But she doesn’t speak.”
“Aye. She doesn’t speak,” he repeated. “That doesna mean she can’t speak if she wanted to.”
Liam’s eyes went wide and he looked toward the castle, clearly understanding Bryce’s accusation. After a moment, Liam asked, “Do you think she’s a spy for the McCurdys?” He was a sharp lad, his second in command.
“I’ve no idea. If she is, I don’t ken what information she would be passing to them since she’s not privy to any great knowledge. But for now, we’ll watch to make certain of it.”
“Shouldn’t you be watching her? You’d be able to do so without her knowing.”
“True.” Bryce swallowed, not wanting to tell the boy the real reason he didn’t want to watch over his wife himself. Instead he crossed his arms and went on attack. “Do ye question my decision?”
“Of course not,” the lad was quick to say. With a nod, he was off to follow Bryce’s orders, sparing Bryce from having to explain that the longer he was near his wife, the more intriguing she became.
He couldn’t allow her to undermine his protective walls. Especially if she turned out to be a spy.
He went to the cottage, thinking he might find something to prove his allegations. Instead he found it exactly as it had been the day he’d brought her there weeks ago.
Other than the dwindling food stores, it hadn’t changed a bit. The floor was clean. Everything neatly arranged. A book lay on the stand next to the bed. It was as if a ghost lived here.
He winced. He knew well enough about living with ghosts.
Chapter Seven
Dorie met Mari and Kenna in the kitchen the next morning. She felt much better, having slept most of the day before and the whole night in her husband’s bed. Bryce hadn’t returned, but she’d enjoyed the comfort of the large bed and the way it smelled of her husband.
In the kitchen, Mari introduced her to the other women who worked there and explained to them that she didn’t talk.
Dorie almost wished she had already spoken to Bryce and her new friends rather than let the deception go on so long. She hadn’t ever considered the idea of having someone to talk to when she’d first come here. By the time she had, she was too embarrassed to explain why she’d deceived them. They all seemed so kind and understanding. None of them acted like the kind of person who would use her words against her, to cause harm to another, or worse, death.
She prayed there would be no danger in communicating with the people in her new home. But she didn’t dare try. Not yet. Not until she was certain.
Also, it was best to remain silent so they didn’t know what a fraud she was. Keeping silent ensured she’d never be expected to tell her story…and confess her terrible sin.
An older woman named Millie welcomed Dorie to help with rolling dough. Millie was patient on the occasions when Dorie pushed too hard and needed to start over.
It wasn’t long before the talk in the kitchen turned from food to husbands. And what they did with their husbands at night in their beds… Dorie felt her face heat when they spoke of such things, though she couldn’t help but be curious.
She’d felt urges and tingles the few times Bryce had touched her. She’d never experienced such things before but wasn’t surprised. For the past nine years she’d been isolated in her room with no company but a maid and random unpl
easant visits by her brother. Being touched was…nice.
She’d never been interested in the ways between men and women. Until now. According to these women, there were many, many ways in which a couple could be joined. Some seemed impossible, and she occasionally thought they were making up these tales to cause a reaction from her. She couldn’t fathom how some of their suggestions were even possible.
But as she listened to their advice and comments to one another, she understood they didn’t speak of such outlandish things for her benefit. Though she had to admit, she was benefitting from the education.
She remained silent except for the occasional gasp of shock. And her face must be as red as a setting sun. Surely a man would never put his lips…there.
When the conversation wound down, Millie directed a question to Kenna. “I couldn’t help but notice one of you has a shadow. What have you done this time, mistress?”
Dorie had also noticed the young man, Liam, following them to the kitchen. The laird’s wife was a bit rebellious, and Dorie agreed she would be the most likely cause for protection.
Kenna laughed off the accusation. “Nay, it’s not me who has Liam sitting outside the kitchen working on his carving. It would be Dorie this time.”
Dorie’s eyes went wide in surprise. She was being followed by a guard? Did that mean she was in more danger than she’d thought? She’d hoped the poisoning had been an accident, as Kenna suggested.
“Does Lachlan think she’s in more danger?” Mari asked. Dorie was grateful to the woman for asking the question Dorie most wanted answered. “I’ll be ready to help if needed.”
“Relax, sister. We don’t need you to grab up a fireplace poker yet. Bryce thinks she might be a spy and wants her watched.” Kenna rolled her eyes, showing what she thought of that idea.
The women all laughed, but Dorie was shocked by the fireplace poker comment. She’d heard whispers about Mari having killed her first husband. Apparently it was true!
Mari leaned over to pat her shoulder. “Not to worry. I only resort to murder when there’s no other option.”
Her Reluctant Highlander Husband (Clan MacKinlay) Page 5