by Ava McArthur
“We are trying very hard,” Niall said, avoiding his mother’s eyes and blushing.
Lorna smiled. “Why were you so angry after doing the accounts yesterday? I know they bore you, but surely they do not enrage you?”
Niall growled. “Because Alec, our steward, accused me of being lazy,” he answered. “Me—his laird. But I was most annoyed with myself when I realized that what he said was the truth. I have been lazy, and I am letting down the estate and all of Craig’s good work, so from now on, I intend to be a better laird. But first, I must say sorry to Alec. He is a good man, and I was unjust to him.”
“You are not as wild as you used to be, Son,” Lorna observed. She felt strangely content as she looked at Niall. “You have not had a sword fight with Stuart for a while now. Perhaps my wild child is being tamed? Perhaps my soldier has turned his sword into a plowshare?”
Niall gave her a warning glance. “Maybe you are right, Mother,” he said, and chuckled. “I had better get back to my lovely wife now. She may be missing me.”
Lorna stood up and hugged him again. “Don’t forget my grandchildren!” she whispered in his ear.
Niall looked at her, shocked, and hurried back to Elspeth.
Catriona was sewing by the side of her bed, but Niall’s wife was fast asleep. He felt her forehead and was relieved to find that it was cool to the touch. The room was pleasantly warm and comfortable; everything was as it should have been. He sighed with relief.
“How is she?” he asked, bending over to look at Elspeth.
“She has been drinkin’ pints an’ pints o’ water, M’Laird,” Catriona answered. “Milady Lorna said it would help. She fell asleep just after ye left an’ hasnae made a murmur since.”
“You think she is better?” he asked anxiously.
“I am nae healer, M’Laird,” Catriona answered, smiling, “but she looks better tae me.”
12
Another Death
Niall decided to take a lot more care for the preparation of their food from then on. He entrusted it to a cook who had been with the family for forty years and was always overseen by two trusted guards. He had no evidence that there was a poisoner at work, but he reasoned it would be better to be safe than sorry. He would have employed a taster, but Elspeth would not hear of it. She was absolutely outraged.
“No!” she said, shocked. “I will put no one else through what I went through, or worse! I cannot believe you even suggested it, Niall.”
“It is only because I care for you,” he protested, spreading his hands.
She shook her head, vehemently. “I will not hear of it!” she cried indignantly, going so far as to stamp her foot. Her face was crimson with rage.
It was the angriest Niall had ever seen her. “I am sorry, Elspeth,” he said gently. “You scared me. You are right, of course.”
Elspeth sighed and put her arms around him. He was warm, solid, and desirable, and most important of all, utterly dependable; she wondered how she had ever lived without him.
Shortly after Elspeth had recovered from her fever, Niall made a suggestion to her as they were lying in bed one night after having made love.
“I will never have enough of you,” he whispered.
Elspeth touched her lips to his. “You know that my body is always yours,” she replied, and because she could not stop herself, she dipped her thumb into the little dimple in his chin, which she had always found so endearing.
“Why do you do that?” he asked, laughing as he trapped her hand and kissed her palm.
“Because it is begging to be caressed. I am sure it is the mark of an angel.”
He laughed. “Hmmm,” he mused. “The Archangel Niall. I think not! You know that we have been married for three months soon?” he asked.
“Indeed! I have been counting the days. Each one seems like a lifetime!”
“You shall be punished for that!” he said menacingly, giving her lower lip a playful nip.
“I cannot wait!” she teased him. “So, we have been married for three months. Why do you mention it?”
“Because I wish to celebrate. We were not in a position to make merry at our wedding. It was a dour and somber occasion, but a little time has gone by, and I am sure Craig would not still want us to be grieving. Besides, we are no longer newlyweds, and we have a little history between us. I think it is worth marking it with a little milestone.”
Elspeth thought for a moment. “So do I,” she agreed, smiling. “So, shall we have a ceilidh?”
“Only if you want one. Not a huge one, but perhaps a few families from the neighboring area. We could even invite a few of our tenants. They would love it!”
Elspeth clapped her hands. “It is such a wonderful idea! And thank you for thinking of it, Niall. Now, I think we should celebrate your wonderful notion.”
“How?” he asked, looking puzzled even though he knew the answer.
“Like this,” Elspeth whispered, as she wrapped her arms and legs around him.
A week later, cartloads of food began to arrive at the castle, together with scores of barrels of ale and what seemed like hundreds of bottles of wine. Elspeth could hardly contain her excitement.
On the day of the ceilidh, the kitchens were in a state of high excitement. A small army of extra cooks and their assistants had been employed to turn out dozens of loaves of bread and scones, roast vegetables of all varieties, and enough game to feed the local village twice over. Niall had ordered extra food on purpose since Elspeth had insisted on it.
When they gave it away afterward, they had their reward in the delight and gratitude of the villagers and crofters. What had begun as a small celebration had turned into a massive gathering, and Elspeth was beginning to wonder if she had done the right thing. However, when she saw the happiness of the commoners, she felt a warm glow inside. Most had never been to a celebration like this in their lives.
She and Niall stood at the main gate, ushering them into the courtyard where long trestle tables had been erected, laden with game, smoked meat, and birds of all kinds as well as meat jellies, nuts, fruit, cakes, and cheeses.
When the Grants came in with their baby, now almost four months old, Elspeth reached for him and held him to her breast as if he were a precious treasure. As she looked down into the tiny sleeping face, her countenance was alight with longing.
“Oh, how he has grown! What did you call him, Mistress Grant?”
“He was christened Roy, milady,” Lily Grant answered proudly. “After Mr. Grant’s faither. He looks just like him an’ a’.”
“He is a credit to you,” Niall said, looking into the tiny face. Despite his initial reluctance, the notion of being a father was growing on him. He laughed when the baby grabbed his huge finger tightly and would not let go.
“It will no’ be long before ye are holdin’ yer own wee one, M’Laird,” Archie Grant observed.
“Oh, I hope not,” Elspeth said longingly. She and Niall exchanged a smiling glance as young Roy began to grizzle. “I think he is hungry,” Elspeth said as she handed the baby back to his mother.
“He’s aye hungry!” Lily laughed as she took the child in her arms before she curtsied and left.
Elspeth’s gaze followed her as she made for a laden food table. “I wish I had a little one,” she said sadly.
“Milady...” Niall’s voice was dry. “I am doing my best!”
Niall saw friends that night that he had not seen for years, and he was proud to present his beautiful new wife to all of them. The whiskey, ale, and wine flowed like water, and it was not long before he was a little wobbly on his legs. Elspeth, who had much more self-control, was sipping her drinks carefully and managing to stay perfectly sober.
Which is just as well, she thought, looking sideways at her husband. One of us has to!
She sidled up to him just as the last dance was about to begin, noticing that he was pouring himself another goblet of whiskey. “Niall, do you not think you have had quite enough to drink?”
she asked pointedly. “It will take four men to carry you upstairs!”
“I can walk, Elspeth,” he answered with a silly smile. “Stop fussing. I am a big boy!” He batted her away impatiently.
He turned away from the glass for a moment and gave her a huge, wet, sloppy kiss, but when he turned back, the goblet had disappeared. He looked around in a puzzled fog for a moment before something else made him forget it.
There was a crash of shattering glass, a collective gasp of shock and screams coming from the middle of the hall, as everyone backed away from something that had tumbled on the floor. Niall gaped stupidly for a moment, and then stumbled towards the disturbance, irritated that someone was spoiling his carefully arranged party.
He roughly shoved aside the spectators and saw one of his distant cousins, Hamish Bann, lying in a pool of whiskey, smashed glass, and vomit on the floor. His eyes were open and staring, and his body was trembling and twitching madly. However, as Niall knelt down beside him, his cousin’s head rolled sideways, and he let out a long, hoarse sigh. In his befuddled state, it took a moment for Niall to realize that Hamish was dead. He shook him desperately as if by doing so, he could bring him back to life.
In an instant, Niall was sober. Elspeth appeared by his side and gasped in horror as she saw the corpse of the poor man lying in such an ungainly, inelegant pose on the stone flags. Her first thought was for his dignity. “Bring a blanket,” she told one of the maidservants.
When the body was covered up, Elspeth picked up a shard of the glass that had held the whiskey and examined it. Glass was an expensive commodity at the best of times, but Niall’s drinking glass had been fashioned from Irish crystal and was very valuable indeed. Hamish, who had been as drunk as Niall, had obviously picked up the wrong one, and had paid the price. She held it out to Niall.
Niall stared at the shard, his face white with shock. Now he knew for sure. Someone was trying to kill them.
“What do you mean you failed?” the man thundered. “How hard could it be to drop something in a whiskey glass for heaven’s sake? You are completely incompetent! I do not know why I bother with you!” He thumped both hands down on the table in front of him and stood up. He kicked the earthen floor and glared at his accomplice.
“I didnae know the eejit was goin’ tae steal the glass!” the accomplice protested. “I did my bit. What did ye dae?”
The man looked up at the torn and rotten thatch of the cottage where the plotters usually met and growled in frustration. “Can I not trust you to do anything right?” he demanded. He rounded on his partner in crime. “It is a true saying. If you want something done properly, you have to do it yourself!”
“Dae it yerself then!” the accomplice said, banging their hands on the table and leaning forward. “Dae it yerself. I am done wi’ ye!”
The man ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “I am sorry,” he said wearily. “We need to make another plan. We cannot leave things as they are.”
They sat and thought for a while, sifting through and discarding various ideas before the man suddenly thought of something.
“I have it!” he cried, and then sat down and began to outline his plan.
“I cannot believe it,” Elspeth said as she sat down on the bed in the early hours of the morning. “Who would do such a thing, Niall? First me, then you—and probably Craig, too. Who hates us so much? And look what happened to poor Hamish!” She put her head against her husband’s chest and burst into tears.
“Shhh...we will find them,” Niall said soothingly. “Killers always make a mistake in the end, Elspeth. We will find them, and when we do, they will regret the day they were born. I will make sure of it!” He kissed her softly. “Try to go to sleep if you can. I must go and help with the arrangements for the body.”
“Don’t leave me!” Elspeth cried, clinging to him.
“I have to,” he said patiently. “I will be back soon, love, but I have posted two guards outside the door. You are safe.”
“Be careful!” she said fearfully. “Niall, it was poisoning this time, but who knows what they will try next!”
“I have guards all around me. Loyal men who have been with the family for years, Elspeth. Be at ease; I am safe.”
Niall had to literally drag himself away from his wife, for Elspeth was terrified to let him go. In the end, Catriona had to pull her away from him, but she did not stop weeping until he came back.
13
Questions
Niall could not sleep for the rest of the night. The tragedy of the previous evening haunted him, but the idea that someone wanted him dead did not frighten him half as much as the fact that they wanted to kill his wife, too. As well as that, he was almost certain now that Craig had also been a victim of poisoning, and the thought chilled him to the bone. Who hated his family so much?
The more he thought about it, the more his brother’s needless death angered him. Craig had had so much to live for. If someone was out to kill his family, then they had not yet succeeded, so it was a certainty that they would try again. But he had no idea where or when.
However, Niall also felt extremely guilty. If Craig had not died, then Elspeth would not be his wife, and Niall could never regret marrying her. He gazed at her lovingly for a long time; she was sleeping at last, but frowning as if she was lost in an unpleasant dream.
He asked himself what Craig would do in this situation. Craig was a thinker, a planner, and someone who could almost see the future. He would never go ahead with any course of action without turning it over in his mind half a dozen times first. Niall would have to learn to do the same.
Just then, Elspeth woke up. She opened her eyes slowly and looked straight into his, and then breathed a heartfelt sigh of relief.
“Thank God,” she murmured. “I was dreaming that someone had taken you away from me.”
He kissed her, caressing her mouth with his tongue and nibbling on her lower lip, teasing and tormenting her ’til she laughed out loud. Her mood then changed.
“Niall, we should not be doing this. We should be trying to find out who killed Hamish.”
“And we will,” he assured her. “But we have to think of a proper way to do it. This person is extremely clever and very, very evil.”
“We should be trying to think like a murderer,” Elspeth replied. “We should try to imagine what it is like to want to kill someone and escape without being caught.”
“Easier said than done, love. Have you ever murdered anyone?” He knew what her answer would be; Elspeth could not even kill a chicken, let alone a human being. She was the most compassionate person he had ever met.
“Of course not!” she replied indignantly, her cheeks coloring. “I would never kill anyone. I cannot even kill a spider, and I loathe them!”
“I know you do.” His tone was indulgent as he kissed her forehead. “You are as soft as butter, and I know that. But I am trying to imagine how I would put poison in a cup without anyone seeing me.”
Elspeth thought for a moment. “Your glass was very distinctive, Niall. It had your initials on it. But someone stole your glass, probably drunkenly thinking it was their own. The poisoner could not have tainted the whole decanter, or many more people would have died. How could we not have seen them?”
“There were many people here,” he replied. “It only took one guest or one servant to put in a tiny drop of something very strong without anyone seeing them.”
“So it could have been anyone.”
“We have to start somewhere,” he stated determinedly. “The obvious place to start is with the servants, but I doubt it is any of them. What motive would they have?”
“One of them may have seen something, though,” Elspeth said with a sigh. “We have to start somewhere, Niall. If we do nothing, they may poison your mother.”
Niall was ashamed to realize that the possibility had not even occurred to him. “You are right, Elspeth,” he said, his voice firm and decisive. “I cannot imagine why anyone wou
ld want to harm her, but this person is likely to be mad.”
“Or wants something very, very badly,” she replied grimly. “We have to stop them, Niall, before they try again...because they will.”
“I know,” he whispered. “I will not lose any more of my loved ones, Elspeth. When I find this monster, I will kill him with my bare hands.”
The servants were lined up in the courtyard, each of their faces a mask of fear. Niall walked up and down the line, looking at every face in turn. Some stared back defiantly, some avoided his gaze, and some of them looked deeply hurt.
As he paced along, he felt wretched. He was about to question the character of some of the people who had been in the family’s employ since he was a small boy, and even though he knew it had to be done, it hurt him.
“You all know that my cousin Hamish was murdered last night,” he began. “I am not going to ask if any of you did it, because I know what the answer will be. I wish to know if any of you saw anyone you did not recognize or someone who looked guilty. If you know or saw anything, then come and talk to me, please, before anyone else is killed. I will keep whatever you say in the strictest confidence. Please, if any of you can help, for the sake of my brother, my wife, and my mother, please help us.” He had to turn away to hide the shimmer of tears in his eyes. Even now, thinking of Craig often unmanned him.
No one stepped forward, but then he had not expected them to. Even if one of the servants had done the poisoning, they had likely been compelled to, and Niall was not hopeful of gleaning any information from them. Eventually, he turned away and went back to Elspeth.
“Our food and drink are being prepared by the same trusted staff we have used since Elspeth was ill,” Niall said to his mother. “I do not think there is a chance of it being contaminated, but I will take no risks. Elspeth may be carrying our child.”