Highlander’s Dark Enemy: A Medieval Scottish Historical Romance Book

by Alisa Adams

  Elisaid would have put a comforting arm around her but it was not her place to touch a lady. She confined herself to a few words of comfort. "Nae doot they will catch him, milady, an' when they dae I wouldnae like tae be in his shoes!"

  Davina smiled at her through eyes full of tears. "No doubt you're right, Elisaid," she sighed, "thank you for your advice." She dropped some coins into the old lady's hand and wiped her eyes.

  Greatly daring, Elisaid patted her shoulder and left. She felt extremely sorry for the young woman. She had everything: an estate, a business, wealth, and a handsome, loving husband. Yet despite all that, she was not immune to unhappiness. In some ways, Elisaid preferred her own lot in life. She might be poor, but at least she was content.

  Now, there was absolutely no doubt and Davina, although she had known in her heart for a long time, found that knowing for certain was different. She felt frightened and helpless. But there was help. There was Athol, her big, strong, dependable husband. She could not imagine how she had ever done without him.

  At that moment Athol was trotting along the cliff path, impatient to get home to his wife. They had been married for such a short time, but it seemed like forever. He wanted to get home and eat a hearty dinner with her, feeding her from his spoon while she pretended to protest that he was feeding her like a child. Then he would sip from her wine glass and kiss her with the taste of it still on his lips. He loved to make her laugh, and she was so easy to tease. He knew that as soon as he got back she would run to him, jump into his arms and smother him with kisses.

  Tonight… He felt his body's response as soon as he thought about her surrendering to him in the big feather bed. He was such a fortunate man. He smiled and urged Jock into a canter. He couldn't wait to see her.

  27

  Breaking the News

  As soon as he went in, however, it was apparent that something was different. There was no Davina running to meet him and jumping into his arms. He wondered if she was ill and a flutter of panic rose in his chest. If anything happened to his wife it would rip his heart out. He went into the small parlor they usually sat in and found her sitting on a chair, hugging herself as if trying to keep warm.

  "What's wrong, Davina?" he asked fearfully. "You look as if you've seen a ghost. Are you alright?"

  She made no answer but stood up and walked into his arms. "Hold me tight," she whispered.

  He did so, leaning his cheek on her hair. She began to weep, softly but bitterly. "What's wrong? What's wrong, my love?" he asked softly.

  "I'm fine," she answered, but she did not look fine. "I found the bottle with the poison in it that killed my father. Lorina had it. She found it on the floor and was using it to keep her needles in. It is arsenic, which smells very much like garlic, but just in case it actually had been used for garlic, I had Elisaid examine it and she confirmed our worst fears. We were almost sure before, but now we are certain."

  "Oh, my love," he whispered, "I wish I could bring him back for you. I would do anything for you and now I am going to track this monster down and kill him with my own hands."

  "It may not be a 'he'…" Davina's voice was weary. "We passed the bottle around the whole group - it is a pretty thing - and Maura looked absolutely stricken." She looked into Athol's eyes with an expression of fury in her own. "I know what you mean about her now, Athol. When she saw that bottle something in her changed. She touched it and passed it on as quickly as she could as if it was burning her. She knew. She knew what it had contained and she knew because she put it there."

  Athol nodded. "She is a fiend." He looked into the fire for a moment, thinking. "She probably put a few drops in your father's goblet at the ceilidh. People were putting glasses down all over the place—it would not have been too difficult." He let her go and kissed her cheek, then they sat down again.

  "Should we tell Mother?" he asked.

  "Not yet, let us plan a strategy first," Davina answered, "but not now." She sighed and he could see her collecting herself. "Now, I want to be a good wife to my husband, so what can I do to please him first?" Her tone was serious, but her eyes were mischievous.

  "Are you sure, Davina?" he asked, looking tenderly into her eyes.

  "I can think of nothing more wonderful than surrendering to my husband." She peppered his face with kisses. "To cure whatever ails me. Athol, take me to our bed and make me forget all our woes just for a little while. I love you so much."

  He captured her mouth with his and she moaned with pleasure. She had heard from other women that the passion in their marriages had been a fleeting thing, over in six months, a year at most. She hoped not. She craved Athol every moment she was not with him and the best part of her day was leaping into his arms at the end of the afternoon.

  Now, he swept her upward into his arms and carried her upstairs. When they got to their bedroom he laid her gently down on the bed and took off his clothes as fast as he could while she watched him. She never took off her own because that was a pleasure he reserved for himself. When he was completely naked she reached up to run her hands over the smooth muscles of his chest with its dusting of dark hair, the tiny mounds of muscles under his ribs and the bulging ones on his arms.

  "You're beautiful," she whispered.

  "That is a strange word for a man," he answered, laughing as he took off her chemise, the last barrier between him and her body. Then he said, "I'm hungry."

  "Then eat," she whispered, smiling mischievously.

  He pinned both of her hands above her head, holding them in one of hers, and as he began to kiss and nibble her all over she squirmed with delight, giggling and moaning. He paused for a second and smiled at her wickedly.

  * * *

  "Now this…" He swept a glance all over her body. "Is a feast fit for a king!" He pushed inside her and took her to that special place where nothing mattered but the two of them. Then they were moving as one until they reached a moment of almost unbearable bliss before falling into the delightful languor of afterglow. Afterward, they lay facing each other, stroking each other, kissing, and whispering endearments. These were the most wonderful and precious moments of their time together, and when they were making love they could shut the whole world out, but as soon as it was over the problems came crowding back, as they did now.

  "Oh, Athol, what am I going to do?" She sighed. "I feel as if everything is falling to pieces!"

  "My darling, I would happily bear your pain if I could," he said, sighing, "but Maura is leaving soon. We must find out the truth before Saturday."

  "Shall we tell my mother?" Davina asked fearfully.

  Athol thought for a moment. "I think we will have to," he said heavily. “She will have to know sometime and it is better that it comes from us.”

  Davina nodded and stood up. Then Athol looked his fill at her again, marveling at how beautiful she was. How could he have ever thought that Maura was lovelier? She began to dress herself and he got up and did the same.

  "Let her eat first," he suggested, "this may feel better on a full stomach."

  Davina nodded again and they went downstairs. Una was waiting for them at the table when they came down. She took in their slightly disheveled appearance and realized at once what they had been doing.

  "Wasn't it a wonderful day today?" she asked happily. "I feel much more cheerful than I have for an age."

  Athol's hand reached for Davina's hand under the table and they exchanged glances. Athol smiled at her in a reassuring manner and Davina smiled back. It was meant to say ‘don't worry’, but Una read ‘I can't wait to get back to bed’. She cleared her throat and looked at them with raised eyebrows.

  "Am I interrupting something?" she asked pointedly.

  "No, Mother." Athol laughed. "We just have to smile sometimes. We are so fortunate. But tell us about your day."

  Una began to expand on the day's discussions and Maura's brush with the Loch Ness Monster. Athol was smoldering with anger but kept on eating his roast beef. Davina was angry too, but
she also managed to keep it contained until the meal was finished. When Una tried to pour her another glass of spiced wine, she put a hand over her glass.

  "I'm sorry, Mother, but I need a clear head for this."

  "You are scaring me," Una said in a shaky voice.

  Athol broke in then. "Mother," his voice was calm, but his tone was grave, "can you listen and not say a word until Davina is finished?"

  "What is it?" Una looked at each of them in turn, beginning to panic. "For God's sake tell me!"

  Davina took a deep breath. "Mother," she said, "we may have found the person who did the poisoning. Shush!" She warned as Una tried to speak. "Let me finish. We think it might be Maura."

  Una laughed out loud. "You can't be serious!" she cried, in defiance of Athol's orders.

  "I am deadly serious," Davina went on, "did you notice how she handled that bottle today? She tried not to touch it. She could not wait to get it out of her hands, in fact. Her face was red, and she went quiet. The woman who left here this afternoon was not the one who came in."

  "You are imagining things!" Una howled with laughter.

  "If I am then you have nothing to fear," Davina said, "she is going home in two days. Can you honestly say you have no doubts about her?"

  Una hesitated. "You are basing this assumption on nothing but a hunch," she shouted, "she has done nothing that I can see to warrant such accusations!"

  "It may be a hunch, Mother," Davina said, trying to keep her temper, "but it is one that I, Lyle, and Athol have."

  "Pfft!" Una waved her hand dismissively, but her smile was becoming tremulous. "You are all as thick as thieves! You will always back each other up. Why should I believe you?"

  Davina was becoming frustrated. She banged her fist on the table, making Athol and Una jump. "Because it is true, Mother!" she shouted. "She is a murderer and if we do not stop her she will do it again!"

  "We have nothing to go on but feelings, it is true." Athol paused and took Una's hands, looking into her eyes. "But we know. We know, Mother."

  For the first time, doubt began to creep into Una's mind. "And you really believe this?" Her voice was faint and her face twisted into a mask of incredulity.

  Athol and Davina both nodded.

  Una leaned on the table and put her head in her hands. "We cannot confront her without evidence," she said. She was secretly hoping for a way out.

  "And she is leaving very soon," Athol said grimly.

  "We have to get her to stay." Davina got up and paced up and down the room. "But how? This is such a nightmare!"

  They all tried to think for a moment. Athol knew something the others did not, however. He had lain with Maura. But what did it matter? It had been before he was married.

  "Do you think it would help if we told her we know she is with child?" she said thoughtfully, "she told me at Lyle's wedding and swore me to secrecy, but things have changed now."

  Athol felt as if he had been kicked in the stomach. He had everything to lose now. She had to be stopped, but she could not be questioned in case she told Davina. What could he do?

  Lying in bed that night, Davina found herself unable to sleep. She turned over restlessly and found that Athol had the same problem. "Can you not sleep either?" he asked.

  "No." She sighed. "Athol, what if we're wrong? What if she is completely innocent?"

  "That woman has not got an innocent bone in her body," Athol said.

  Davina was shocked by the venom in his voice.

  "But we have no proof!" Davina started to get out of bed, but Athol pulled her back and hugged her against his body.

  "You know, someone once told me that worry is like a rocking chair. It uses up a lot of energy but goes nowhere." She laughed. "Can you try to go to sleep?" he asked. "What if I sing to you?"

  "Please don't," she begged. "you are many wonderful things, husband, but you are not a singer. And before you ask what you are going to ask, I am far too tired."

  He groaned in protest, then thought of an idea. "Turn over," he ordered. She did as he asked and he lay behind her so that they fit together like spoons. It was the way she and Una had slept since she was a child and within a few moments, she was dreaming.

  Athol was not so lucky. He was in a real quandary and could not think of a way out of his predicament. If he allowed Maura to be confronted, she might tell Una and Davina about their encounter and he might lose his wife. He had lain with Maura before their marriage so there had been no infidelity, but now there was the question of the child, which might be his. The probability of it was small, but it was there. However, if he did nothing, a murderer might go free, possibly to do the same thing again.

  He should never have lain with her. He was a mature, intelligent man who had been seduced by a sensual body and a beautiful face. He cursed the impulses of his body that had made him do so. He stayed awake for an hour worrying, but the problem had assumed such massive proportions in his mind that he could think of no way to solve it. He awoke in the morning with a pounding headache and no answers.

  28

  Maura Turns the Screw

  The last part of Maura's plan was ready to be enacted. She sent a note to Athol, purporting to be one of the under-managers at the estate with a problem that urgently needed his attention. He groaned as he looked at it.

  "Damn it!" he said angrily, "I have to go back to Blairmore. McKenzie wants to see me." He looked at Davina, still lying in a daze and smiling at him sleepily. How much he wanted just to lie here and make love to her! He got out of bed stiffly and with great reluctance, his headache worse than ever.

  "What's wrong?" Davina asked anxiously as he rubbed his forehead and grimaced.

  "A headache. I will take some willow bark tea before I go out." He dressed in haste then leaned over to kiss her. "Wait for me," he said, in a voice husky with desire.

  Davina nodded and smiled bewitchingly. "I always do."

  * * *

  Athol drank down a goblet of willow bark tea and two of milk before grabbing three bannocks to munch on his journey to Blairmore. He hated being in such haste; it always upset his equilibrium and put him in a foul mood for the rest of the day. He mounted Jock and they set off along the cliff path and Athol felt his headache abating. The problem at the back of his mind was still there, though, and coming to the front once more.

  Then, in the distance, he saw a rider mounted on a blue roan horse trotting towards him. As he got closer, he could see that it was a woman and when she took off the black veil she was wearing he knew it was Maura. His heart began to beat a wild pattern as she slowed her horse down right in the middle of the path.

  "Good morning, m'laird! I trust you are well?" Her smile was wide, but her voice was mocking as she looked at him. She was teasing him. He was not yet a laird.

  "Very well, thank you, milady." He bowed.

  "Did you get Mr. McKenzie's note?"

  "That was you?" he asked, astonished and outraged in equal measure.

  Maura laughed and cast her eyes heavenwards. "God help me!" she cried in mock despair. "Men are so stupid! Your tenant would go to your manager first, he would not need you." Her voice was dripping with contempt.

  "What do you want, Maura?" he snapped.

  "I am carrying your baby," she replied blithely, "I need money for its upbringing."

  Athol stared at her, stunned, for a moment, then found his voice again. "I know you are with child. Davina told me. She also told me that you lay with Grant before the wedding."

  "Your wife is so naïve," Maura said scornfully, "she believed everything I told her. I told her that so that she would think she was my confidante and we would share girlish secrets with each other. Secrets are powerful things."

  Athol could barely restrain himself from slapping her, but he could never hit a woman - much less a pregnant one - if indeed she was pregnant. "And how do I know you are even with child?" he demanded, "you have shown that your word is worthless."

  Maura shrugged. "You do not," she
said carelessly, "but it will show soon enough. This is my first child so it may take a while longer. But Grant will think he is the father too. You may tell Davina if you wish, a little peccadillo before marriage is excusable, but I could tell Grant, and that would embarrass him and estrange him from you. You are connected closely in business are you not? Indeed, I believe you have bought a huge tract of land together and will be raising cattle. Think of all the money you would lose should Grant back out!

  “I need money to restore my castle and my estate; Grant does not have enough because of that deal. Also, I need some of the finer things in life: jewels, perfumes, silk dresses. Grant cannot get those for me. So, how much will it cost to buy my silence?"

  "You tell me," Athol said, feigning disinterest although his heart was beating out of his chest. "I am all ears."

  She named a sum of money so large that it made his eyes widen in alarm. "Ah!" she cried in triumph, "now, I have your attention!"

  "I am afraid that is impossible," he said grimly, "I too have large commitments and expenses."

  "I expect Davina will be overjoyed to know she has a stepchild then." Maura failed to keep the glee out of her voice.

  Athol thought desperately for a moment. He named a substantially smaller sum, and Maura pretended to consider. She had known that the higher sum was impossible, but she had to start high so that she ended up with a reasonable return for her risk.

  "That will buy you six months of silence," she replied, "a little more will buy you the time until the baby's birth. Then we can see what the little one looks like. I am a redhead and Grant is fair, so if my baby is dark… It might be yours."

  "You know that babies do not always resemble their parents!" he cried.

  "But can you take that chance?" She shrugged again.

  "What of your reputation?" Athol knew he was beginning to grasp at straws, but he had to try something.

  "What of it?" She laughed. "It only matters if you care and I do not."