Silence spread. After several long seconds, Celia, with her head bowed, let out a heavy sigh. “I was cooking and she went on and on about the wedding and examining the stones in the leather pouch he made for her. To get some peace, I sent her to the pantry for more onions. Evan came in with a barrel of ale, kissed me a good morning. I told him to put the ale in the pantry. I left for the great hall. The next thing I know, Mary comes running for me. She found Evan and Angel,” she said and let out a halting breath, “dead in the pantry.”
“I know this is difficult for you. Was anyone near the pantry?” Jamie asked softly. Laura’s head whipped around.
“People are always about. The ale and perishable food stores are kept by the pantry.” Celia started to dismiss the idea then stopped and wrinkled her brows in thought.
“No. I don’t remember who. I didn’t take notice. I sent her to the pantry.” Celia lifted her head and gazed at them with tears ready to overflow. “I sent her to her death.”
Celia’s face was blank, although her chin quivered and she struggled to hold back tears. Every instinct in Laura wanted to ease the woman’s pain, but she had no words that would bring Angel back, no actions. All she could do was listen.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” Laura said as she put her arm around Celia. “The words are so inadequate. I know. I lost my brother recently.” Celia’s head snapped up to Laura. The pain in Celia’s face mirrored her own. For days, Laura played the strong one, not only for her parents and sister, but for the men at arms and villagers. Everyone else. Now, she let her emotions rise to the surface and shared her pain and tears with Celia in a moment of profound understanding.
Jamie waited next to her, silent. After a few moments, he gently cradled the small of her back.
Celia took a steadying breath and nodded at Laura. A thank you? A slight smile touched the woman’s lips as she stepped away.
“You’ll want to speak to Mary. She’s in the garden getting me some herbs.” Celia hurried off to the kitchen.
The pain would always be present. Laura understood that now, but having shared her loss made it easier to bear.
“Where’s the herb garden?” Laura asked.
Jamie threaded her arm through his and led the way beyond the kitchen. “You should have waited for me before you spoke to Celia.”
“Yes, yes, I needed protection from a cook with a wooden paddle.”
The tendons along his jaw tensed. Her reaction was a bit too tart, although she had to applaud him for having the good sense not to respond. Wait for him. Was he insensitive to what she shared with Celia? A pang of loss overwhelmed her. Her eyes widened as she hoped to stop the threatening tears.
A thought struck her. Was that how Jamie coped? Not tears, but action? Yes, that’s what she recognized in his face. How could she be so blind?
“I hoped Celia would be able to tell us what the two argued about,” Jamie said. There was irritation in his tone.
“But she couldn’t confirm they argued. To the contrary, they were very happy.” Laura bit the side of her cheek. She tried to make sense of what Celia said.
“If they argued someone must have overheard, or took note of the others near the pantry,” he said. His words echoed her confusion.
They made their way through the courtyard, weaving around tables erected under an arcade that ran along one side of the castle wall. Farmers with fresh vegetables had set out their goods. Her nose told her they’d find the tanner at the far end of the marketplace. People from the village and nearby farms casually strolled or moved along with a specific purpose. The crush of people and noise made it difficult to walk and to hear.
“Where were you when they found Evan and Angel?” Laura asked.
“Say again,” Jamie shouted. “I didn’t hear you.” She could barely make out what he said over the chatter and hawking that filled the courtyard.
“I said,” she leaned closer to him, “where were you when they found Evan and Angel?”
He led her past the stable and around to the back of the kitchen. The noise subsided considerably. At least now she could hear herself think.
“I returned from patrol and nearly ran Mary down when she rushed through the courtyard. Before I could get off my horse, she grabbed Captain Oliver. They ran toward the kitchen collecting a trail of people behind them. By the time I arrived, I couldn’t find a place to stand.”
He held open a gate, and she stepped into a modest kitchen garden filled with herbs and flowering plants. She took a deep breath and enjoyed the familiar earthy aroma of basil, chives, mint, and sage.
“Good day, Mary.” Jamie and Laura approached a woman. Mary wore a dark brown dress with a blue apron fastened around her waist. Her fading red hair was a disarray of unruly curls. Her face was fair and her features plain, but honesty and sincerity were her greatest attributes.
Mary wiped the dirt on her apron, and picked up the basket of fresh herbs at her feet. “Good day, m’lady, Lord Jamie.”
“Lord Jamie told Mother about Evan and Angel. The news upset everyone. Mother’s in disbelief and is sure something was overlooked. After speaking with Celia, I feel the same way.” Laura pushed a wayward strand of hair from her face.
“Every so often, I still see their faces, those poor children. Angel’s lifeless eyes stared up at me. Her pretty lips tinged blue.” The woman shuddered. “Everyone loved the girl, such a light spirit. Never a nasty word or raised tone. Kind and generous she was, gave out trinkets to the soldiers. For protection, she said. Like the charm you wear around your neck.” The woman motioned toward Jamie.
Laura lifted her gaze. Jamie wore one of Lisbeth’s charms. She hardly noticed it any more. She patted her pocket and felt another charm. Lisbeth gave them to everyone.
Laura waited. Mary’s soft smile turned to a tearful quiver. “Evan made her a small pouch to hold them. He worked with the tanner for weeks, even burned an angel into the leather for her. It was around her neck when she died. They were so loving and caring to each other. He couldn’t have kill her.”
“She didn’t raise her voice? Someone mentioned they had a loud argument. Isn’t that why you went to the pantry?” Jamie asked as he started them walking back toward the kitchen.
“You wouldn’t be able to make out a shouting match at that time of day. The pantry is an active part of the house around mealtimes. It’s more difficult when the men come in for their ale. I didn’t go to the pantry because of any noise. I went to get some candles. That’s when I found them.” She quaked as if overcome with a chill.
“Who was near the pantry?” Laura asked as they came to the kitchen door.
“Three soldiers. Jermyn, Brian, and Thomas were getting ale from the barrel by the pantry when I arrived. If anyone overheard an argument, it would be them.”
“Thank you for your help.” Laura and Jamie were in front of the pantry. Mary went off and got halfway to the kitchen before she wheeled around.
“There is something else.” Heavy lines of concentration deepened along Mary’s brows and under her eyes.
“The floor was covered with blood. I didn’t know someone could have so much.”
Mary stared, a haunted look about her eyes. Jamie remained still. Laura realized the woman didn’t see them. She was someplace else, back to that day in the pantry.
“Evan was covered in blood. He must have dragged himself through the pools on the floor to reach Angel. I had little hope for him. When I found only a little blood on Angel’s dress, I thought, I hoped she was alive.” Mary’s eyes cleared. Agony etched her face. “She was also gone. When I picked up her hand, I found skin under Angel’s fingernails. I thought she clawed someone. There were no marks on Evan’s face, arms, or hands. I told someone who came into the room, but nothing came of it.”
“Did Angel scratch herself?” Jamie asked.
“I didn’t find any scratches on her.”
“Were Evan’s lips blue?” Laura asked.
Mary thought for a moment. �
��No. His lips were white. He didn’t kill her and he’s not a traitor to The Maxwell.” Mary picked up the corner of her apron, wiped her eyes, then headed toward the kitchen. “Celia, here’s the parsley and spring onions you wanted.”
“I’m getting anxious. We have a lot to do in five days,” Laura said as she fumbled for the pantry door key.
“Why don’t we divide and conquer. You look through the pantry. I’ll speak to Evan’s father. Jack stood by the stable when we crossed the courtyard. Afterward, I’ll meet you here.”
Surprised by his willingness to cooperate, she agreed, even though she wanted to be with him at the interview. She gazed at Jamie as he walked to the stables. For all his obstinate resistance and teasing, he was a compassionate man.
“Are you lost, m’lady?” Sonia came into the corridor and followed Laura’s gaze. “Oh, Lord Jamie,” she said with a knowing smile.
“What about Lord Jamie? He’s gone to speak to Jack. I wanted to make sure he didn’t get distracted along the way.” Liar, she told herself licking her lips. One look at Sonia and she knew she hadn’t fooled the girl.
“He’s an honest and trustworthy man.”
“Yes, he is, but to him I’ll always be Richard’s little sister,” Laura whispered.
“I don’t see that when he watches you when you’re not looking. I don’t think he sees your brother at all.” A soft curve touched Sonia’s lips.
Laura touched her necklace, her fingertips warmed by the beads. The warmth could only be from the heat that rushed up her neck.
“Mrs. Turner is coming.” Sonia headed for the courtyard door. “I must be on my way before she scolds me for wasting time.”
“Go on.” She shooed the girl out the door. Sonia vanished in the crowded courtyard.
Laura slipped the key into the lock, slid the bolt, and swung the door open. She wasn’t superstitious, but she needed a moment. It was easy to be brave when one knew what they faced. It was something else when they had no idea what to expect.
The open door provided the sole source of light. Laura tentatively entered the room and looked at the floor. To her relief, someone had scrubbed the stones. There was no sign of blood.
She lit the pantry lantern and hung it on the peg in the center of the room. The dim light revealed rows of shelves to her left lined with tins and small wooden crates. Larger crates and barrels stacked to her right. Several large barrels, filled with salt, flour, and cheese flanked the door. Several bottles of wine were on shelves.
She faced the back of the pantry. With the limited light, she found it difficult to see past the line of stacked crates and barrels that divided the pantry.
She looked at the room with its shelves and barrels and created a plan. The bodies were found by the door and it was likely that anything related to Evan and Angel’s deaths would be in the front, not beyond the divide. Perhaps she’d look in the back last, if she went back there at all.
She began to search the shelves. The hint of a breeze ran across her cheek. The breeze didn’t come from the door, but rather from behind the shelves. She peeked around. No windows. Perhaps another door?
Mist gathered, shimmery and soft. Mesmerized by shifting wisps and curls, she gasped as the vapor throbbed and expanded, and a young man stepped out of the mist.
She brought her hand to her lips as the young man’s jerkin moved and revealed his blood-stained shirt. “Evan?”
His eyes widened and he gave her a respectful bow.
“Why are you here?” The apparition lifted his head and said nothing. He pointed to his lips and shrugged his shoulders. She noted a faint note of pleading in his face before he began to fade away.
“Your murderer. You want him brought to justice.” She stepped toward him.
Evan hesitated and nodded as he disappeared.
The ghost was unable to speak. A complication. If he appeared again, her questions needed to be restricted to yes no answers. This was progress.
She spent the next hour looking through the shelves while she waited for Jamie. The only item that appeared out of place was a small decorated vial. She put it into her pocket and continued her search.
“Did you find anything?” Jamie called, walking into the room.
“No, but Evan paid me a visit,” she said, putting the tin she examined back on the shelf. “He didn’t say anything. I don’t think he can speak.”
“Is that usual for ghosts?”
Laura spun to face him. At first, she thought him sarcastic until she noted an open smile. He leaned against the door jamb. She smiled back and inclined her head.
“Mother could answer that question. She is the expert on ghosts. You arrived at the right moment. I can’t get to the shelf behind this barrel. I promised Herbert I would thoroughly check every shelf for his whiskey.”
Jamie moved the cask. She brought the lantern around.
“Hmmm,” she rummaged in her pocket, pulled a small container out and showed him.
“What is it?” Jamie examined the closed vial she put in his hand.
He lifted the small bottle to his nose and snapped his head back. “A rather unpleasant pungent odor.” He pulled out the stopper and dabbed his finger on the rim of the purplish liquid.
“You’re not going to taste that?”
Jamie didn’t acknowledge her. The tip of his tongue flicked at his finger. He pulled his hand away and put the stopper back on the bottle.
“Deadly nightshade.” he said.
“Poison. But why—” No one stores poison in with the food.
“Perhaps someone plans to poison the stock, the tips of arrows...”
Or The Maxwell. Jamie didn’t fool her.
“At Cumgour, we keep the poison locked away. This vial is decorative, something a lady might keep. Let’s keep this to ourselves until we gather more information. I don’t want to start a panic. Perhaps there’s a logical reason the vial is here,” he said and slipped the vial into his pocket.
Was he trying to convince her or himself? “Very well. You spoke to Jack. Was he any help?”
“He had little to add. He never heard Evan or Angel raise their voices even when they argued. He swore Evan was loyal to the family. I’m a reliable judge of character. I believe he told me the truth.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“We can’t confirm there was an argument. They were likeable and we found no one had any reason to kill either one.” She ticked off each item on her fingers, more confused than ever.
“If Evan did turn against The Maxwell…” Jamie said. She mentally added the possibility to her list.
“All we know is the two of them are dead. Stabbed.” Laura tried to put the pieces together. She was good with people. Live ones.
“Evan’s stab wound was mortal. The amount of blood he lost proves that. Angel’s stab wound—”
“Why did she have so much less blood? And blue lips. Mary mentioned Evan’s lips were white.” She drew her brows together, frustrated she didn’t know more.
“If a wound is made after the person dies, it doesn’t bleed.” Jaime’s expressive face changed and grew somber.
“That means she wasn’t killed with a knife.” Laura turned to Jamie who looked as if he weighed her statement.
“No, she wasn’t.”
“When did he stab her? If Evan killed her in anger, then regretted it enough to kill himself, would he stab her after she was dead?”
He stroked his chin, deep in thought. “No, that doesn’t make sense.” He walked toward the door.
“Where’re you going?” She locked up the pantry and followed after him. Looking through the rest of the pantry could wait.
“To the barracks. I don’t think there’s any more we can find here today.” Jamie turned abruptly and Laura slammed into his chest. He had to admit her tenacity brought him around. Her explanation may actually have merit. He continued on, his long strides eating the distance as she struggled to keep up.
“Jermyn, Brian, a moment i
f you will,” he called to the two men in front of the barracks.
“You were by the pantry the day they found Evan and Angel. Tell me what you saw or heard,” Jamie said.
“Nothing out of the ordinary until Mary called us.” Just as he thought. At last they were making progress.
“When you went inside, what did you see?” Jamie tried to restrain his excitement.
“Evan and Angel on the floor,” Brian said. Jermyn nodded in agreement.
“Did they argue? Was anyone near the pantry?” Laura blurted. He put his hand on her back, hoping to keep her quiet. He didn’t want her giving any ideas.
The two men stared at each other. “No, no one other than Thomas. I didn’t hear anything, did you?” Jermyn asked Brian.
The soldier shook his head.
“Thomas was on guard duty by the gate today.”
They thanked the soldiers for their help and moved on toward the gatehouse.
“I thought I heard something and asked the others to hush. It turned out to be nothing. A few minutes later, Mary went in and came rushing out telling us not to let anyone in. We stood guard at the pantry while Mary got the Captain. Oliver had us join him. It was a sad sight.” Thomas shook his head. “Perhaps Holger can give you more information. He was standing guard in the pantry when we entered.”
Laura and Jamie stared at each other. The tinker, one of those silent souls you overlook while they go about their work.
“Had he been there long?”
“He must have been bringing crates into the pantry. He was sweaty and wore only his under-tunic.
“Where can we find him?” Laura asked.
“He’s visiting the villages along the Nith River. He should be back by the end of the week.” A crofter and his wagon pulled up to the portcullis.
“Many thanks for your time.” Jamie drew Laura into the courtyard. “Now all we can do is wait.”
The Highlander’s English Woman (The Stelton Legacy) Page 8