by Lynsay Sands
Edith hesitated, but then took a deep breath and said, "He is sleeping, and I thought it best to let him rest since he was apparently up most o' the night worrying over me."
"Aye, he was, but . . ." Rory looked toward the stairs again and then to Moibeal. When his eyes narrowed on her maid, Edith noted the disapproval on the girl's face. Apparently, he had no trouble sorting out what might be behind that disapproval, because when he finally turned his gaze back to her, he said solemnly, "I'm guessing Moibeal mentioned that Niels wants to take ye away to Buchanan today."
Edith hesitated, trying to marshal a sensible argument for why they shouldn't do that.
Before she could, Rory continued, "And I ken that must be frightening."
She blinked at the suggestion.
"Leaving the home ye've always known fer a new one full o' strangers is no doubt a daunting prospect," he said solemnly, "But 'tis fer the best. 'Twill be safer fer ye, as well as the people here."
"The people here?" Edith asked with surprise.
"Well, we've been fortunate so far. At least somewhat. Moibeal survived the poison meant fer ye, and is healthy and well again. Effie I begin to think will no' survive, however, but at least we got lucky yesterday and no one was behind ye when ye bent over and the arrow sailed past ye missing its mark. Had Niels or Tormod or anyone else been behind ye, they may have taken the arrow in yer stead. Even Ronson could have if ye'd picked him up on the saddle with ye, or if the shooter's aim had been off."
Edith was sagging under the realization that he was right when Rory added, "And then there is last eve's mead incident."
She glanced at him sharply. "What of it? No one else drank it, did they?"
"Nay. But we almost did. Geordie fetched it right after the arrow incident and was going to pour each o' us some when ye went above stairs to clean up. But Tormod said he'd rather have ale, and the rest o' us thought that sounded fine and we'd leave the mead fer you. Had we no' done that, Geordie, Alick, Tormod, Niels and I would all probably be dead now."
"Dear God," Edith breathed, dropping to sit on the bench at the table.
"Aye," Rory said grimly. "We got lucky. Next time we may not. 'Twill be safer fer everyone once Niels gets ye away from here. It may even help reveal the killer."
Blinking at that, she glanced up. "How?"
"Well, if they are determined to finish what they've started and kill ye too, they'd have to follow ye to Buchanan," he pointed out. "They'd reveal themselves did they do that."
"Oh, aye," Edith breathed and shook her head. Yesterday, she'd argued to Moibeal that leaving Drummond wouldn't leave her any safer since the killer could follow. Now Rory had turned that argument against her. If the killer followed, they'd surely be recognized as the killer. And if she stayed, she could be putting others at risk.
Edith couldn't believe that hadn't occurred to her. Or perhaps she could, because while she hadn't realized it before Rory had suggested it, she was anxious about leaving Drummond. It had been her home all her life. It was the only home she knew, and these were her people. She'd grown up with them around her and couldn't imagine her life without them. But she would have to. All girls had to grow up, marry and move away from the people they loved. Well, not all she supposed, thinking of Murine. She now lived in her childhood home with her husband, Dougall, but few women got that lucky.
"Well," Moibeal said brightly. "Then I suppose I should go up and start in packing fer the trip."
"I had best go wake my husband first," Edith said on a sigh and stood.
"Nay," Rory said at once. When Edith glanced to him with surprise, he grimaced and said, "Niels can be a bit hard to wake in the mornings and cantankerous when he's tired. I shall stop in and wake him on my way to feed Effie some more soup. The two o' ye can go up and start packing once he comes down. That way ye can break yer fast while ye wait," he added, and then cautioned. "Only eat what yer cook says is safe. And make sure they open a fresh cask o' whatever ye want to drink."
"Aye," Edith muttered, but as she watched Rory turn to head above stairs, she thought it might be better if she simply not eat or drink anything until they'd left. She was sick of being sick.
Niels woke to a loud crash and lunged upward in bed, glancing wildly to Edith, only to find she was no longer beside him. Turning his gaze around the room in search of her, he found his brother Rory instead. The man was leaning against the closed door, a satisfied smile on his face.
"Where's Edith?" Niels growled by way of greeting, and Rory pushed himself away from the door with a smile and started across the room.
"She's below, waiting fer ye to wake up so that she and her maid can start packing."
"Packing?" he asked with surprise.
"Aye. Her maid told her ye planned to take her to Buchanan and I convinced her it was fer the best."
"Ye did?" Niels asked with surprise. Last night as they'd sat by the bed, he'd mentioned his worries that Edith would argue leaving or even refuse, but he hadn't expected his brother to intervene.
"Aye," Rory said, sounding pretty pleased with himself. "And then I helped ye further by convincing her to let me wake ye when she said she would."
"How was that helping me?" he asked with bewilderment.
"Because I'm quite sure had she come up here to wake ye, the two o' ye would have ended up rolling around in bed all day and not left until tomorrow," he said dryly.
Niels stilled at the suggestion, his mind captured by the idea. They hadn't yet even consummated the wedding, he realized. Technically, that meant they were not even married, did it not? He wasn't sure, but really, should they take the risk? After all, if they encountered Brodie before consummating, he might be able to have the marriage annulled or something. Nodding, he began, "Mayhap--"
"Nay," Rory said firmly.
"Nay, what?" Niels asked with surprise. "I have no' said anything yet."
"Ye were about to point out that the wedding was no' consummated and suggest that ye should stay another day so ye could see to it," Rory said without a lick of doubt. "Ye probably e'en managed to put together some argument that her brother may have the wedding called invalid did ye encounter him before ye consummated it."
"Damn, brother, ye ken me well," Niels said with amusement.
"Aye," Rory agreed. "And I ken that ye'd never forgive yerself did ye stay that extra day and end up widowed all fer a chance to swive yer wife."
"Aye, I would," Niels agreed unhappily, and tossed the linens and furs aside to get out of bed.
"Besides, Brodie could no' prove the marriage was no' consummated," Rory commented suddenly.
Niels snorted at the suggestion as he grabbed his shirt off the floor and pulled it on. Once his head cleared the collar, he said, "I think the fact that she was poisoned and sick as can be would probably give that away."
"Aye, but the bedsheet suggests she may have been sick after the consummation. Or that the wedding was consummated this morn ere getting up," Rory pointed out and Niels turned to peer at the bed, his eyes widening when he saw the dried red-brown stain on the bottom linen. It was from the preserves Edith had smeared on herself thanks to the advice of the unknown Magda, but it did look like blood. A slow smile claimed his lips.
"I'll take it and hang it over the banister while ye pleat yer plaid, shall I?" Rory asked, moving toward the bed.
Niels started to nod, but then frowned and asked, "What if someone investigates and realizes 'tis just preserves?"
Rory paused and then relaxed and said, "I'll only leave it up until the nooning meal and then take it down and burn it. That way all will see it, but Brodie'll no' be able to examine it when he returns."
"Good," Niels said, looking around now for his tartan. "Thank ye."
"Me pleasure, brother," Rory said lightly, stripping the stained linen off the bed. "I'm always happy to aid in the course o' true love."
Niels glanced to him sharply. "Love? I do no' love Edith. I like her, but that is it."
Rory gave him a
pitying look as he straightened with the linen in hand. "Sometimes, Niels, I swear ye're a dolt with naught in yer head but boiled brains . . . and this is one o' those times if ye truly believe ye do no' love the lass. The way ye were fretting over her last night made it pretty clear to one and all that ye love her."
"One and all?" Niels asked with wide eyes. "How would one and all ken anything? Only ye, Tormod, Geordie and Alick were up here."
Rory's eyebrows rose. "Do ye truly no' recall running to the top o' the stairs in a panic, wearing naught but yer boots and puke and bellowing like a wounded bear fer us to come quick, that yer Edith was stricken?"
"Oh," Niels muttered, vaguely recalling that now.
"Aye, oh," Rory said dryly. "Trust me, everyone in this keep is now convinced ye love their lady. You are the only one who apparently does no' realize it yet."
On that note, he turned and carried the linen out, leaving Niels to pleat his plaid and ponder the fact that he might just love his wife. Dear God, how had that happened?
"Hmm."
Edith glanced to Moibeal at that comment. The maid had sat down to discuss what all they would have to pack for the journey as Edith broke her fast. Both women had quickly realized that it was going to be a much larger endeavor than they'd thought. Aside from her chests of clothes, Edith had two chests of linens and such that her mother had started when she was but a babe. She'd said they were for her to take with her when she married. There was also her bow and arrow and countless other personal items that would need to be packed.
"What?" Edith asked Moibeal with curiosity when the woman didn't comment further.
"It appears yer husband is awake, or at least out o' bed," Moibeal said with amusement, nodding toward the stairs.
Edith turned to follow her gaze, expecting to see her husband coming down the stairs. Instead her eye was caught on the huge strip of white linen Rory was hanging over the upper bannister. Her jaw dropped as her gaze zeroed in on the huge dark stain in the center.
"And here I worried that what with ye being ill and all, ye had no' consummated the wedding," Moibeal commented, and then added, "At least we needn't worry Brodie could have the wedding voided should he arrive before we leave."
Edith merely stared at the sheet. As far as she could recall, they hadn't consummated the marriage. But that definitely looked like blood on the sheet. Perhaps Niels had worried that Brodie might annul the marriage if given the chance and had consummated her while she was unconscious to ensure that didn't happen. Her gaze dropped to her lap at that thought and she simply sat for a moment, trying to see if she felt any different down there.
Nope, Edith decided finally. She didn't feel different at all . . . which was kind of disappointing. She really would have expected to feel different somehow, although she wasn't sure how or even why she'd have thought that. His kissing her and thrusting his tongue into her mouth hadn't left her mouth feeling different afterward. But then there was no maidenhead in her mouth to bleed, and judging by the amount of blood on the linen, the breaching had not been a small thing. Edith almost wondered if she shouldn't find some blood moss and change into the dark red gown she usually wore during her menarche to minimize visual signs of bloodstains. If she was still bleeding . . .
Standing abruptly, Edith headed for the stairs, intent on checking on the issue, but paused at the bottom of the stairs when Niels appeared at the top and started down. Embarrassed and shy, Edith ducked her head and started up, but paused when Niels drew even with her and caught her arm.
"Good morning, wife," he murmured, bending to press a kiss to her forehead.
"Good morning, husband," Edith whispered. Flustered, she glanced up and then away when she saw he was eyeing her oddly.
"Where are ye going?" he asked.
Edith opened her mouth, and then immediately closed it, not comfortable discussing her body's needs with him yet, but then said, "To pack."
"Ah." He smiled and squeezed her arm. "Just pack a couple gowns for now. Geordie and Alick are returning after seeing us to Buchanan to collect Rory and have agreed to bring a cart to bring back Ronson, his grandmother, Laddie and anything else ye need from Drummond."
Edith forgot all about her possibly still bleeding at that and glanced up with surprise. "Ronson and his grandmother?"
"Well, if Bessie is willing," Niels said wryly. "I thought you might like them to come to Buchanan with us. Was I wrong?"
"Nay. That would be wonderful, husband," she assured him quickly, a smile curving her lips. "I was worrying what might become of them after I left. Victoria does no' care for either o' them."
He smiled. "Then if his grandmother is willing, Geordie and Alick will bring them. They'll bring anything else ye might need too." Niels frowned briefly, and then added, "Although it might be best do ye leave Moibeal here until then. She can tell me brothers what all ye want brought. That way, they'll no' accidentally leave anything behind." He hesitated and then added, "If ye can do without yer maid fer a week or--"
"Oh, aye," Edith interrupted him quickly. A week without a maid was little enough to give up in exchange for making sure nothing was left behind.
"Good. Then go pack a few gowns and essentials and we'll leave as soon as ye're ready," he suggested.
"Aye, m'lord, husband," Edith said and turned to go, but then paused and swung back to throw her arms around his neck and press a quick, enthusiastic kiss to his lips. "Thank ye, husband," she said happily as she then withdrew her arms, but he stopped her by slipping his arms around her waist and holding her close.
"That is no' much o' a thank ye kiss, wife," Niels murmured, his voice growing husky. "We can do better than that, do ye no' think?"
"Aye," Edith whispered and closed her eyes as his face lowered and he claimed her mouth. When one of his hands rose to cup the back of her head and tilt it to a better angle as his tongue slid out to caress her lips, Edith opened to him and moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. That was all it took for her body to come alive with excitement and ache with need. She could feel the hardness growing between them and pressing against her belly, so wasn't at all surprised when Niels suddenly scooped her up into his arms and started up the stairs without breaking their kiss. She was even looking forward to his assuaging the ache he'd created, so was startled when he suddenly broke the kiss and stopped walking.
Peering up at his face, she saw that he was staring past her looking slightly vexed. Edith turned to see that Rory now stood at the top of the stairs, arms crossed over his chest and one eyebrow raised.
Sighing, Niels set Edith down on the step above him. He held her briefly until he was sure she had her footing and then urged her up the stairs saying, "Go pack. I'll send Moibeal to ye so ye can tell her the plans, and then I'll go find Geordie and Alick and let them ken we're leaving soon."
Hiding her disappointment, Edith nodded and continued up the stairs alone.
Chapter 11
"Geordie!"
Blinking away the raindrops clinging to her eyelashes, Edith glanced to her husband on the horse ahead of hers at his shout and then looked past him to the man riding at the front of their group. Alick rode behind her, but Geordie was leading the way, riding ahead to watch for trouble. He slowed now and then turned to ride back at that call from his brother.
Bringing her horse to a halt behind her husband's mount when he stopped, Edith waited patiently as the two men began to converse. She couldn't hear what they were saying over the storm thundering around them, but hoped it had something to do with stopping to wait out the downpour. It had started around noon, two hours after they'd left Drummond. It had just been a light drizzle at first, but Niels had immediately dug a plaid out of his bag and dropped back next to her to suggest she wrap the water-repelling cloth around herself. She hadn't really thought it necessary at first, but had accepted the offering and drawn it around herself, appreciating the gesture.
The drizzle had continued off and on through most of the afternoon as they'd ridden,
but half an hour ago it had suddenly turned into a downpour. It was growing harder and windier with every passing moment and Edith was now cocooned in the plaid, with just her eyes peeking out for all the good that did. It was now almost as dark as night, though she knew it could only be late afternoon, but between that and the wind blowing the rain into her eyes it was getting hard to see.
Dashing the water out of her eyes, Edith sat up a little straighter in the saddle and watched when Niels suddenly turned his horse and sidled up next to her so that their horses each faced opposite directions.
"We're thinking we should stop and wait out the storm," he announced, leaning out of his saddle and leaning close to be sure she heard.
Edith nodded with relief.
"We need to find high ground though, or someplace that'll offer a bit o' protection. Ye ken this area better than us, lass. Do ye know a likely spot?"
Biting her lip, Edith glanced around, searching for anything that might look familiar. The truth was while this was Drummond land, she didn't often stray far from the castle. The loch and the meadow were as far as she usually went unless traveling to visit Saidh or Jo or something of that ilk, and she could count on one hand how many times she'd done that.
Unless she included childhood trips, Edith thought suddenly as her gaze landed on a tree ahead and to her right.
"The lodge!" she blurted with excitement.
"The lodge?" Niels asked.
Edith nodded with the first smile she'd managed since it had started to rain. "Ye see that tree there? The big one with carving on the trunk."
Niels turned to look where she was pointing and then nodded. "Aye."
"Me da did that years ago when we were children. He used to bring me, my mother and brothers out to the lodge a couple times a year when we were young," she explained, shouting to be heard over the rain. "We were supposed to be hunting, but mostly we played games and had picnics and swam and such. He carved that on one o' the trips. It means we're close to the lodge."
"Can ye find it?" Niels asked at once.
Edith peered at the tree for a moment and then nodded, "Aye, I think so."
"Then lead the way and we can get in out o' the rain," Niels said with a smile.