by Alisa Adams
Vanora glared at him. “I will have a pair made before your fingers fall off!” she said crossly.
Rory grinned. He loved to see her face when she was angry.
Laird Hugh Devine’s home was not quite as big as the usual castle but it was a very substantial mansion, built of red sandstone in the midst of an acre or so of land which was bounded by a ten-foot-high wall with guards looking over it at every corner and at the gate. More guards stood by the huge oak inside the gate, which was opened for them to pass through. When the sisters alighted from the carriage, they were surprised to find themselves in a snow-covered garden instead of a stone-flagged courtyard.
The trees had been stripped of their leaves by the cold and the savage gales of winter, and their skeletons stood stark and black against the gray sky, swaying and bowing at the behest of the wind.
Even though the property was small compared to her own, the laird was obviously a man of means. All the windows in the mansion were made of glass, a very expensive commodity, and as they passed inside all three of the girls looked around them in wonder and pleasure at the statues that stood in niches in the walls, beautiful paintings of landscapes, and family portraits. Vanora studied them and wondered which one was her future husband. She soon found out.
They approached a room that looked like a large dining room, and out of it came a man whom Daniel rushed to greet. This must be Hugh Devine the Younger, Vanora thought, and her lip curled in disgust.
“Hugh! My good friend!” he gushed ingratiatingly. “How are you?”
“Well, thank you Daniel,” the man responded, smiling. His eyes slid over the three girls and alighted on Vanora.
“Come and meet your bride,” Daniel said, with an oily smile. Hugh Devine bowed, then took her hand and kissed it. It was all Vanora could do not to snatch it back and run.
Hugh Devine was hideous beyond Vanora’s worst nightmare. He stood about two inches shorter than her, with a thin, unmanly build, as if he had never really grown out of boyhood. His hair was bright red, but it was receding and gray at the temples. He had prominent cheekbones, hollow cheeks, a mouth that was so thin that it looked like a sword slash, and a nose that was as hooked as a falcon’s beak. His eyes were deep brown, small, and round like buttons, and they were leering at her greedily.
“I am so pleased to make your acquaintance, Milady Vanora,” he said in a voice that was surprisingly mellow and pleasant. “You are every bit as lovely as Daniel said you were.”
“Thank you,” Vanora said, summoning up a twitch of her lips that she hoped would pass for a smile. She curtsied politely and allowed him to kiss her hand, shivering at the touch of his lips.
Hugh took her arm and led her into the dining room. It was not as large as the one in the castle, but the table was big enough to seat sixteen people comfortably. He introduced them to his parents, Margaret Devine and Laird Hugh Devine the Elder, younger brother Alec, younger sister Fiona, and his cousin James.
Margaret was a dark woman with a faded prettiness that might have lasted longer had she not had to live with her bully of a husband. Hugh the Elder was a tall man with receding red hair and small, cruel dark eyes.
Alec was a marginally taller and slightly more handsome version of Hugh, and Fiona, like her mother, was much darker, with a sparkle in her brown eyes as she smiled at her future sister-in-law. Vanora took this to be an encouraging sign.
James looked as if he did not belong to the clan at all, being tall and fair with light green eyes. He was very serious and rarely smiled, and he looked closely at Vanora, assessing her as if he could not quite make up his mind whether he approved of her or not.
Vanora could see that Young Hugh was a little tipsy already, and since she was seated next to him, she could smell whiskey on his breath, and it made him even more revolting in her eyes if that were possible. She could not bring herself to marry this creature.
Rory, walking behind them, was fuming that this horrible unworthy creature was going to marry a beautiful woman like Vanora. He wished he could do something to stop it, since the expression on her face told him that she loathed the sight of the young laird, but he could not. He was only her bodyguard after all, not her father. He ground his teeth and tried to think only about protecting her as best he could, as his job demanded.
“I think you might be the loveliest woman I have ever seen,” Hugh said, with an unctuous smile. “I am sure that you and I will be very well suited indeed, and I will be so proud to show you off to all my friends, and to meet yours.”
“Thank you, sir,” she replied evenly.
“Call me Hugh, please!” he demanded, laughing. “After all, we are going to be husband and wife. Go on. Say my name.”
“Hugh,” Vanora said dully. Hugh chuckled and clapped his hands. “There, that was not too painful, was it? You are very shy, but that is a lovely quality in a woman, is it not, Daniel?”
“Indeed,” her uncle answered with a smarmy smile.
“And cheer up, Vanora,” Hugh went on. “I may not be the most handsome man in the world but I will be good to you, I swear. How could I not be good to someone as beautiful as you?”
“Thank you, Hugh.” She gave him a sideways smile that avoided his eyes. “But you have told me that twice now. You are embarrassing me.”
“Such modesty!” Hugh marveled, shaking his head. “Truly, you are the most astonishing lady! Is there any virtue that you do not possess?”
Vanora said nothing. She glared at Daniel but he avoided her eyes. There is a way out, she thought determinedly. I will find it. She thought of Rory. He would help her escape, surely? Would he do such a thing for her? But no, she could never be so selfish as to ask him. It would put him in danger of long imprisonment or even death if he was caught.
They went into the dining room, and Vanora tried to console herself with the fact that if she were to live in misery, at least it would be comfortable misery. The mahogany-paneled room was beautifully appointed; the furniture was richly carved and polished, and the heavy brocade curtains at the tall windows were embroidered at the hem with gold thread. The walls were decorated with local landscape paintings in heavy gold frames which had been painted by a prominent local artist. Despite herself, Vanora loved the room.
They sat down to eat, and to her dismay, Vanora was seated next to Hugh. The first course arrived, which was pheasant soup, a dish she usually enjoyed, but as she dipped her spoon into it for the first mouthful, she felt a hand on her knee. Hugh was not looking at her, but he was smiling triumphantly as if to say I have you now!
There was an eating knife on the table beside her, and she picked it up then carefully and slowly dropped her hand onto her lap. With one swift motion she dug the point into the back of his hand and just as quickly withdrew it without any change of expression. She heard him suck in a quick gasp, and saw a fleeting grimace of pain on his face, but he excused himself by saying that he had dropped a little hot soup on himself.
“Vanora is inflaming my senses with her beauty,” he said happily after he returned, smiling adoringly into her eyes. He seemed to be excited rather than angered by the fact that she had just stuck a knife point into his hand. Vanora felt like slapping him.
A few minutes passed, then suddenly Hugh grabbed his throat with one hand and began to cough. It was not an ordinary cough, but a hacking, tearing one that was painful to even listen to. Hugh slid off his chair and onto the floor, his face crimson with the effort of trying to breathe, and he began to bring up blood, then his eyes rolled back, his eyelids fluttered closed, and his body went limp.
Rory, who had been standing by the door, was the first one to reach Hugh. He checked the pulse at his throat, looked up, and nodded at Daniel. “He is alive, but he is in a bad way,” he said grimly. He tried to force Hugh to drink some water, but it came back up again, then he stuck two fingers down his throat in an effort to make him vomit, but it was no use. Rory shook his head.
“Show me tae his room,” he said harsh
ly. Then he picked Daniel up with apparent ease and carried him upstairs. A few minutes later the wise woman from the village was called and went straight up to see Hugh, just as Rory came down again.
“Are you a’ right, milady?” he asked Vanora, his deep voice troubled as he looked at her.
“Do you think there is a good chance that he might die?” Vanora asked hopefully.
“Milady, you must no’ think that way,” Rory said sternly. “Ye cannot curse a person. It is wrong.”
“I hate him already.” Vanora looked as if she wanted to be sick too. “He and Uncle Daniel should marry each other. I am sure they would be very happy together!”
“I know ye are jestin’.” He laughed grimly. “But that really would be a match made in hell!”
Just then, Marion and Ella joined them. “Vanora,” Ella said anxiously, “do you think that poison was in anyone else’s food?”’
“No, darlings.” Vanora pulled them into a hug. “We were all eating the same food, and we are fine, but let us find out what the wise woman says.”
A little while later Mistress McCallum came downstairs. Her face was sweating with exertion but when she spoke to the sisters and Daniel she seemed cautiously optimistic.
“It might have been Wolfsbane,” she said, wiping her brow. “But I made him vomit an’ forced him tae drink, so I think he is purged. I must see the rest o’ his food if they havenae thrown it away yet.”
A servant bustled her off to the kitchen and in the meantime, Daniel poured wine for them, but everyone refused it.
“I would rather be thirsty than dead, Uncle,” Vanora said firmly.
“No one would kill you, Vanora.” Daniel laughed at the very idea. “Why would they?”
“Why would they try to do it to Hugh, then?” she countered. “I will send out for food in the village tomorrow, Uncle, and I will watch its preparation myself. You may wish to die, but I have no intention of doing so yet.” Her face was flushed with anger and her eyes blazed with it.
A few moments later, Mistress McCallum came back, wiping her hands. “I cannae be sure if it was Wolfsbane or no’, but if he had finished a’ the soup...” She shrugged and spread her hands. “Who knows? I dinnae think the food is affected but it is best tae throw it away just tae be safe.”
“Will you stay until he is well?” Daniel asked fearfully, wringing his hands. If Hugh died, all his plans would be ruined.
“If he is well, sir,” she reminded him, “I will stay, but I must be paid what is my due, an’ I must inspect the kitchens.”
“I will see to it,” Daniel replied, but his tone was distant, as if his mind was somewhere else.
11
“Who could have done such a thing?” Ella asked fearfully. Her lips were trembling and her eyes were shining with unshed tears. “How could anyone do a thing like that?”
Rory put a hand on her shoulder and smiled as she looked up at him. “We will find out, Mistress Ella,” he said soothingly. “It is likely nothin’ that concerns us.”
“I do not care about him,” Vanora growled under her breath. “If he dies it is no concern of mine, but I am sending my sisters to bed with a guard outside their door.”
“I am so hungry,” Ella complained, rubbing her stomach.
“So am I,” Marion sighed.
“There is nothing we can do except drink water,” Vanora lamented.
“Wait!” Rory leaped up and went outside, then came back inside with a bulging pannier of the kind that fitted onto a saddle. He beckoned them over to stand beside him in one of the alcoves that was out of sight of the dining room. He unbuckled the strap and they gazed inside. It was full of food.
Vanora looked up at him in astonishment. “Why did you bring all this?” she asked. “Do I not provide enough for you to eat?”
Rory looked abashed. “Well, tae be honest, milady,” he said, sighing, “no, so I bring a wee bit more.”
“A wee bit more?” Vanora cried. “Rory, this is a feast!” She looked at the bannocks, cheese, slices of cured meat, three flasks of ale, hazelnuts, and apples, then she looked at Rory in astonishment.
“Mind you, there is a lot of you to fill,” she remarked dryly. “Girls, take this upstairs to your room and eat it there. We will be up soon.”
Vanora gave one of her most trusted guards instructions to go with them. Marion went with him straight away but Vanora practically had to drag Ella away from Rory.
“I will see ye tomorrow, Mistress Ella,” Rory smiled as he let her go. “Ye can ride on my horse to market wi’ me. Would ye like that?”
Ella nodded with enthusiasm, smiling.
“Then off tae bed wi’ ye,” he said kindly. “Make sure ye eat enough an’ dinnae forget to say yer prayers.”
Ella hugged him around the waist and went upstairs to her bedroom, but not before giving him one last smile before she disappeared from sight.
“She is smitten,” Vanora said, laughing.
I wish you were, Rory thought.
“Do you think it is sinful to wish somebody dead, Rory?” Vanora asked him, looking up into his dark eyes.
He sighed and thought for a moment. “It depends on who ye wish dead, milady,” he said at last. “An’ yer reason for doin’ so.”
“Hugh?” she suggested.
“He has never done anythin’ tae deserve it,” he replied. “Not yet, anyway.”
She nodded slowly and turned around, just in time to see Fiona Devine hook Daniel McKay under the jaw with her bunched right fist with considerable force. He went down on the tiled floor like a sack of turnips and she knelt down and straddled him as she kept up the assault. Some of the other guards tried to intervene but Alec and James waved them back.
At last, exhausted, Fiona knelt back on her heels and looked down at Daniel with contempt.
“You were supposed to be organizing everything, you stupid eejit!” she screamed as she stood up. “How could you let this happen?” She stepped closer to him so that they were almost nose to nose and wagged a warning finger in his face.
“This is not my fault!” Daniel protested indignantly. “You invited us. This is your food, cooked in your kitchen!”
“Where your men were eating!” Fiona went on relentlessly, sticking an accusing finger into Daniel’s chest. Her face was crimson with anger, but she seemed less concerned about Hugh’s welfare than she did about settling a score with Daniel.
Daniel was reeling from the blows to his head. Fiona was not a big woman but it was clear that she had had some training in the art of defending herself, and Vanora was distinctly impressed. Daniel was going to have some handsome bruises on his face in the next few days, and Vanora hoped with evil glee that they would have turned a fetching shade of purple by the time the wedding was held.
“For what reason would my men poison your brother?” Daniel demanded. “Why would they do such a thing? Your family wants this wedding and so does Vanora. Why would we want to sabotage it?”
Fiona raked him up and down with a withering glance. “Who knows? Perhaps you have some twisted reason of your own! I warn you, McKay, if my brother dies you will suffer!” Her voice was low and throbbing with anger.
She turned and ran upstairs followed by her brothers, who had not taken much part in the altercation. It seemed that Fiona was a more dominant character than the rest of them put together.
Rory and Vanora sat down again. Daniel had gone off to interrogate his guards, all except Rory, who was directly employed by Vanora.
“Do ye no’ want to go and eat?” he asked gently.
She looked up at him, and her eyes were glittering with tears. “No,” she replied. “I want to stay here with you, where I feel a little safer. We may not be able to be friends much longer. Hugh might decide to send you away.”
He could find nothing to say to this, for she was right.
Just then Mistress McCallum came downstairs, followed by Fiona, who was nursing a sore hand.
“It seems my brothe
r will live,” she said thankfully. She patted the wise woman on the back. “Thanks to this good lady.”
“Aye.” Mistress McCallum’s lined face was grim. “But it was a near thing. If I was no’ able to make him well, ye would be buryin’ him soon.”
Fiona dropped some coins into the woman’s hand and Mistress McCallum curtsied before she left, but not before giving Vanora a censorious look. No doubt she was angry because Hugh’s betrothed had not expressed her gratitude in the form of silver coins.
“Vanora.” Fiona came forward and took her by the hand. “Would you risk a glass of whiskey? I am fairly sure it will be perfectly drinkable.” She smiled and Vanora saw warmth in her eyes. At least one person here likes me, she thought.
“No, but thank you for the kind offer Fiona,” she replied. “It has been a long and tiring day, and I think I will go to bed.”
“As you wish.” She scanned Rory from his feet to the top of his head, her mouth open in astonishment. “You are a big boy!”
Rory’s brow creased in annoyance. “The last time I looked, I was a man, mistress,” he said, with more than a little anger in his deep voice.
“I beg your pardon,” she replied contritely. “Of course you are.” She turned back to Vanora. “I am so very sorry about today. When I find out who did this I will horsewhip him myself. Hugh is less than perfect but he is still my brother, and although I can see by your face that you do not rate him very highly, I promise you he will be kind to you. Goodnight.” Then, with a smile and a curtsy, she walked away.
Vanora’s shoulders slumped and she sighed with relief and exhaustion. She felt Rory’s arm go around her shoulders, and she leaned into him, feeling his comfortable warm solidity.
“I would like to go and see Bokkie,” Vanora said tiredly. “I want to make sure she is all right in this strange place.”
Rory nodded but said nothing. He led her out to the stables where she rubbed and kissed her horse’s velvet nose and looked into his eyes, which looked strangely like Rory’s. They were the same color and had the same placid expression. Bokkie was a gentle beast, unlike some of the absolute terrors she kept in her stables.