by Lynsay Sands
"What's in yer hand?"
Bessie hesitated and then sat down on the corner of the furs before holding her hand out and open to reveal the small blue vial she held. When Edith stared at it blankly, Bessie said, "Ye can tell the boy I had a heart attack or something."
"Poison," she realized.
"He'll never need ken what I did," Bessie said simply, and then as Niels rode into the clearing with his brothers and Tormod following, she smiled and added, "And ye can no' punish me fer what I've done. I win."
Edith stared at her blankly. As far as she was concerned, no one won here, and the words were so childish, so . . .
Turning her back on the woman, she walked toward her husband and her future.
Chapter 18
"Where the devil are they?" Niels muttered, walking to the door and opening it to peer up the hall. There was still no sign of Edith and Ronson.
Sighing, he closed the door and crossed back to the bed, scowling when he saw Alick poking the needle again into Bessie--or Ealasaid. He was no' sure what to call her. Her true name was Ealasaid, but Edith refused to call her that and would refer to her only as Bessie. He suspected part of the reason was because she did not wish to slip up and confuse Ronson, but suspected too that she wished to deny the woman had any connection to her.
"Alick, fer the love o' St. Peter, stop poking the woman with that damned needle. Ye heard Rory. She's dead," Niels growled when the younger man stuck it into Bessie's still body again.
"How can we be sure?" Alick asked stubbornly. "Ye heard Edith. Even after kenning ye were back here telling us that she was the culprit, she lunged at her with the knife."
"Aye, but--"
"And she's fair knowledgeable about weeds," Alick continued grimly. "What if what she took was something just to make her appear to be dead and she's really alive and sleeping? Mayhap she's just waiting fer us to let down our guard and leave the room so she can rise up, use the passages to go below and poison the well so that all at Drummond die and she can claim it fer her own."
Niels hesitated, and then glanced at Geordie, not at all reassured when he saw the same sudden uncertainty in his brother's eyes that he knew was in his own.
Cursing under his breath, Geordie pulled his dirk, crossed quickly to the bed and plunged it firmly into Bessie's body where her heart would be. If she actually had one, Niels thought grimly. It was hard to tell from her actions.
"There," Geordie said with satisfaction. "If she was no' before, she's definitely dead now."
"Aye," Niels muttered, and then reached down quickly to tug the linens up to cover the knife in Bessie's body as the door opened behind them.
"Here we are, Ronson. Ye just come say yer goodbyes to yer grandmother now and then Geordie and Alick will sit with the body until burial."
Frowning, Niels turned at those comments in his brother Rory's voice and asked, "Where is Edith? I thought she was bringing Ronson."
"Aye, she was, but then she asked me to do it and to send ye to her," Rory explained, ushering Ronson to the bed. "I believe she's waiting fer ye in yer--What the devil is that?"
Frowning, Niels turned to see that the linen hadn't hidden the knife very well at all and it was obvious what was poking up out of Bessie's chest. Fortunately, Rory had his hands over Ronson's eyes as he scowled at Geordie and Alick and mouthed, "Get it out."
"Well, we had to be sure," Alick muttered as Geordie grimaced, pulled the linens aside and tugged his knife out of the woman's chest.
"I told ye she was--" Rory frowned down at Ronson, and then mouthed, "dead."
"Aye, but ye said Effie was unconscious too and she was no'," Alick pointed out.
Rory's eyes narrowed and he opened his mouth looking ready to blast their younger brother, but Niels lost his patience at that point and snapped, "Where is she waiting?"
"Who?" Rory asked, even as Geordie muttered, "She's probably no' waiting at all, but went straight to--" Pausing to glance worriedly at Ronson, he merely pointed down at the floor.
Presumably to indicate that Bessie had gone straight to hell, Niels supposed and scowled at him. "I meant me wife."
"Oh, well ye'll have to ask Rory that then," Geordie said, wiping his blade clean as he moved away from the bed.
"I was," Niels snapped and then turned to see Rory grinning at him. Eyes narrowing, he asked, "What?"
"'Tis just so nice to see ye so happy and in love," he said with amusement.
Niels glowered at him and then turned and strode to the door, muttering, "I'll find her meself."
"Try the bedchamber first," Rory suggested, and before Niels closed the door, added, "The old laird's chamber."
Eyebrows rising at that last part, Niels strode down the hall to the last door and then thrust it open and stepped inside . . . and immediately froze. The room had been cleaned and completely transformed. All the old laird's personal items had been moved out and his and Edith's moved in. Aside from that, the old bed curtains had been removed and replaced with new ones and colorful tapestries hung on the wall. But the room was empty. At least he thought it was until his gaze reached the fire and he saw Edith curled up on a large fur in front of the hearth as naked as she'd come into the world.
Niels kicked the door closed with one foot and then strode quickly across the floor, shedding his tartan and tugging off his shirt as he went.
Edith watched him, her eyes growing wide. But the moment he stepped onto the furs and started to swoop down at her, she was off them and backing away.
"Where are ye going?" Niels asked with surprise, straightening to peer at her.
"I wanted to talk first, m'laird," Edith explained, backing away as he started forward.
"Wife, ye do no' need to be naked to talk," he informed her, stalking her like a wolf after prey. "In fact, 'tis more detrimental to talking than helpful."
"I ken, but I . . . I just want to tell ye . . ." She paused and glanced around and down with a frown as she tripped over one of the rush mats.
"Tell me what?" Niels asked, swooping in to catch her while she was distracted and pull her into his arms.
Sighing, Edith braced her hands against his chest and said, "This is important."
"Talk," he suggested, bending his head to nibble at her ear.
"I . . . I want to please ye," Edith breathed as his lips ran down her neck.
"Ye do," Niels muttered against her skin.
"Aye but I--I'd throw meself between you and an arrow to save yer life," she said, the words ending on a moan as he cupped and clasped her breasts.
"I would no' let ye," he assured her.
"Aye, but I would, and I'd throw meself between ye and a bear too. I--Oh, I should have kept me clothes on until after," Edith muttered, sounding vexed. "This is hard."
"That's what ye do to me," he muttered, grinding his hardness against her.
"I'm trying to tell ye I love ye," Edith groaned and Niels froze.
Lifting his head, he peered at her solemnly. "What?"
Edith took a moment to clear her mind and then nodded solemnly. "I love ye, Niels. I realized it when I was in the woods with Bessie. She said love is wanting to please another, and caring fer their well-being more than yer own."
Niels grimaced. "'Tis rather disturbing that ye're taking advice on love from a woman who killed fourteen people and hurt so many others."
"Aye, I ken," she admitted wryly. "But if it makes ye feel better, she said her mother said it."
"Hmm," he murmured and decided that perhaps that made it more palatable, especially if it had led to Edith telling him she loved him. Cupping her face between his hands, he peered into her eyes and said, "I love ye too, Edith. I would no' have thought it possible to come to love someone so quickly, but ye . . ."
He paused, grasping for the words to express how he felt and then sighed and admitted, "I do no' ken how or when it happened, but ye've pushed yer way into me heart and made a place fer yerself there. And yer so firmly entrenched, I can no' recall life ere ye
arrived in it, and can no' imagine life without ye at me side."
"Oh my," Edith breathed.
Smiling, Niels added, "But I'd no' let ye take an arrow fer me, and I'd definitely never let ye get between me and a bear, because I feel the exact same way about you."
Edith smiled and caressed his cheek gently. "Remind me to write Saidh and thank her."
"All right," Niels said slowly, a little confused by the abrupt change of subject, and then he tilted his head and asked with curiosity, "What do ye need to thank her for?"
"For you," she said solemnly. "Her sending ye to check on me was the greatest gift o' me life."
Swallowing a sudden lump in his throat, Niels scooped her up into his arms and carried her to the bed. But the whole way he was thinking that perhaps he'd write his sister a "thank ye" too. Because Edith was a gift to him as well, one he would enjoy unwrapping all the days of his life.
An Excerpt from Twice Bitten
Keep reading for a sneak peek of
New York Times bestselling author
Lynsay Sands' next Argeneau novel,
TWICE BITTEN
Available April 2018!
Twice Bitten
Elspeth blinked her eyes rapidly, trying to adjust to the much dimmer interior of the Night Club as she stumbled to the bar along the back. Her eyes weren't adjusting as quickly as they should, a result of her being low on blood, so she switched to rubbing her eyes in an effort to move the process along. She sensed, rather than saw, the bartender approach.
"A Virgin Mary without the Worcestershire, Tabasco, or lemon," she requested quietly.
"So . . . blood?" the bartender asked, his deep voice full of amusement.
Elspeth nodded with a sigh and breathed, "Yes, please," as she gave up on her eyes and sank onto the nearest barstool. She was staring wearily at the black stone countertop of the bar when a tall, blue tinted glass of red liquid was set in front of her. Elspeth pounced on it like a starving person on food and quickly gulped it down.
"Another?" the bartender asked as she lowered the now empty glass.
Nodding, Elspeth braced her hands on the bar top as the blood hit her system. She was struck with a brief light-headedness and a sense of being off kilter. It was like standing on a listing ship and trying to keep your balance, an effect of her system rushing to collect the blood in her stomach and redistribute it.
"Here you are, El," the bartender said, setting a fresh glass in front of her.
She glanced up with surprise on hearing her name and then stilled, her eyes widening incredulously as she gaped at the giant on the other side of the bar. Six foot seven with a twelve-inch, green Mohawk that took him to seven foot seven, the man was as wide as a linebacker with his padding on, and awash in tattoos and piercings. G.G. She'd encountered him many times at the Night Club back in London, an establishment that, like this one, was geared toward immortals and had a doorman who usually steered mortals away. It was a place for her kind to relax and enjoy blood-based mixed drinks in the company of other immortals. Her parents had taken her and her sisters to the Night Club in London to celebrate special occasions like birthdays, graduations, et cetera, but Elspeth had also been there many times on her own while at university. G.G. had always manned the door, and had always been very nice to her. He'd often even joined her inside and chatted with her about life and such on her visits.
"G.G.," she breathed with amazement. "What are you doing here?"
"I own the place now," he said with pride.
"Really? How? Why?" she asked with amazement. "Did you sell the Night Club in London?"
G.G. shook his head. "I still own it, and I've done well there. So, when Lucern called up saying he was interested in selling the Night Club here, I jumped at it."
"Wait a minute. Lucern owned this place?" she asked with confusion. "My cousin, Lucern Argeneau?"
G.G. chuckled at her expression, but nodded.
"I had no idea," Elspeth admitted, her eyes wide.
"I guess no one knew," G.G. said with a shrug. "I gather he was afraid certain relatives might take advantage if they knew he was the owner."
Amusement curved Elspeth's lips. "I can see that. Thomas probably would have before he met Inez. If for no other reason than that it would have annoyed Lucern."
"I suspect he was more concerned about Jean Claude than anyone else," G.G. said quietly.
"Oh, yes," Elspeth said, frowning as she thought of her now dead uncle. There was nothing more unpleasant than an immortal with a drinking problem, unless it was one with a drinking problem who was mean as a snake after consuming a drunk's blood. Although, to be fair, Jean Claude had been mean as a snake when sober too. Pushing thoughts of that unpleasant man away, she forced a smile and said, "So you bought it, but still own the Night Club in London too?"
G.G. nodded again. "I like London. But this is a good investment. Besides, my parents will soon have to move out of London again for that whole 'decade thing' you immortals got going on, to keep mortals from noticing you aren't aging, and they were talking about Canada as a possible destination for the next ten years, so this seemed fortuitous. I can travel back and forth between England and Canada, keep an eye on both places, and visit my parents while doing it whether they're there or here. It's all good."
"Yes," Elspeth agreed with a nod, and then shook her head and said, "I can't believe Lucern owned it. He isn't the Night Club type."
"It was one of his investments," G.G. said with a shrug. "But now that he and Kate are going to start a family, he's decided to divest himself of some of his businesses. This is one he felt needed more time than he might have in the near future."
"He and Kate are pregnant?" she asked with amazement. Good Lord, the man knew more about her family than she did.
"Not yet," he said at once. "But Kate is retiring from Roundhouse Publishing later this year and they're going to start trying for a baby then."
"Oh." Elspeth nodded, not surprised to hear Kate was retiring. She'd worked at Roundhouse when she'd met Lucern and been turned, and it had been more than the usual ten years since then. It was time for her to move on. Otherwise she risked someone picking up on the fact that she wasn't aging.
"So, I'd heard you'd moved here to Canada," G.G. said with a grin. "Good for you. I think getting away from your mother will be good for you."
"You heard?" Elspeth asked with amazement. She hadn't told him. She hadn't been to the Night Club in London the last four years. Not since the family had moved out of London for the family home in York. But she supposed she shouldn't be surprised he knew about her move. The immortal grapevine was faster and more efficient than the mortal grape vine. Everyone seemed to know everyone's business.
"Yes, Lissianna and Jeanne Louise came in a few weeks ago for a girl's night and invited me to sit with them to catch up on things. They mentioned it, and were planning to drag you out with them on their next girl's night. They said you were busy getting settled in and they'd bring you next time."
"Oh," Elspeth smiled. Lissianna had invited her out about three weeks ago, but she'd been expecting her furniture to be delivered, and after three weeks living in a mostly empty apartment, she hadn't wanted to reschedule. Lissianna had offered to change the outing date but Elspeth hadn't wanted to disrupt her plans and had said no. She'd join them next time. And she would . . . if her mother didn't try to prevent it, she thought grimly, and then glanced to her purse with a frown as her phone began to ring. Sliding the leather bag off her shoulder, she set it on the bar and quickly dug out her phone. She wasn't surprised to see "Mother" listed as the caller. She'd been out of Martine's sight for half an hour. Of course, she'd call.
Hitting decline, Elspeth dropped her phone back in her purse and then glanced up to see G.G.'s raised eyebrows. He'd obviously noted who the caller was. Forcing a smile, she tried to steer his thoughts away from the call.
"So," she said brightly, "You work the bar here instead of the door?"
G.G. shook his head.
"No, I work the door here too . . . when we're open."
Elspeth blinked at him with confusion, and then turned to peer around the club. She was the only person there. The Night Club had other rooms, of course, but she suddenly suspected they were probably empty too as she realized it was just a little after seven. The sun was still up and would be for at least another hour. The Night Club was only for immortals, and so was run differently than the average bar or nightclub. For one thing, it was only open from sunset to sunrise. Everyone knew that.
"Oh, crap," she muttered and turned back to G.G. with dismay. "I'm so sorry."
"It's fine," G.G. said with good humor. "My own fault. The phone was ringing when I came in and I rushed to answer it and forgot to go back and lock the door."
"Yes, but I know the club's hours, I can't believe I didn't think of that when I headed here." She began scrambling through her purse for her wallet. "You should have just sent me on my way. I just--Why on earth did you give me my drinks?"
"Because you were pale as death and looked like you needed the blood," he said quietly. "And you don't look much better after just the one glass, so stop fussing with your wallet and drink. You can pay me after."
"Thank you," she said with a sigh, and set her wallet down so that she could pick up the glass of blood and take a long swallow.
"Rough day?" G.G. asked, leaning his arms on the counter and offering her a sympathetic smile.
"The worst," Elspeth admitted with a grimace. "I got home this morning to find Mother and my sisters had decided on a surprise visit. They were already in bed. Mom in the guest room and the twins in my bed," she added with disgust.
"Pretty presumptuous of them," G.G. commented.
"I know, right?" she said, glad to have the support.
"Did you kick them out of your apartment?" he asked.
"No, but I kicked the twins out of my bed. Made them sleep on the air mattress in the living room. They weren't too happy about it though, and drank me out of blood before I got up."