by Fiona Faris
“Poor Eilidh,” Alana commiserated. “She will be humiliated.”
“Aye, but she will be alive,” Fergus reminded.
“Aye,” Alana smiled glad of the fact.
Fergus went to get help with moving the cook and Alana stayed with her to ensure she would not be alone. She hoped Freya was doing well with Andrew on her own. It had been an emotional, terrifying experience for them all, but even more so for Freya. She had come very close to losing the man she loved in a most terrible way. Henbane poisoning was not an easy thing to die from.
Fergus returned with several clansmen and they each grabbed ahold of the cook and eased her up from the floor. “Och, she shite herself,” one of the men complained grimacing.
“Hold yer wheesht ye ungrateful cuddie,” Fergus growled. “Ye’ll be eatin’ nothin but dirt if ye utter another word.”
The man took him at his word and was instantly silent. Alana grabbed a pitcher of water and some cloths then followed behind. She was not about to let the poor woman awaken in such a state. Fergus had the men take Eilidh to the same room that Alana had treated Duncan in the night of the gathering and laid her on the bed. The men silently left the room, leaving Alana and Fergus to tend her.
“I hate tae ask ye Fergus, but I am goin’ tae need some help gettin’ her undressed and bathed,” Alana informed him.
“She would kill me if she kenned that I helped ye undress her, lass, but I will nae leave ye tae suffer alone. Had the kitchen lassies nae ran off in fear, I would go and fetch one o’ them. Perhaps we can keep it our wee secret so that I dinnae have to forfeit my life when she awakens,” Fergus requested.
“I dinnae think she will care when she kens it was ye that saved her life,” Alana replied.
“I hope ye are right, lass. I dinnae wish tae die upon the morrow,” Fergus retorted.
“Just help me tae get her clothes off and then I will do the rest. Ye can avert yer eyes,” Alana suggested.
“That would be best,” Fergus agreed.
They worked together to care for Eilidh’s needs. Fergus turned away so as not to embarrass her even though she did not know the difference. His chivalry made Alana like him even more. Her father would never have been so caring. She worked to bathe Eilidh, then covered her body until she could have a night dress retrieved for her. “Can ye go and find one o’ the lassies that ran off now? I need a night dress for her and I dinnae ken where she keeps her things.”
“Aye, I would be glad tae,” Fergus replied and left the room to do as bid. When he returned, he had a nightdress and one of the kitchen maids. “I have brought ye a wee bit o’ help.”
“I thank ye, Fergus,” Alana replied. He smiled and left once more.
Alana and the maid tended the cook, then Alana left her with instructions on Eilidh’s care and went to look in on Andrew. When she entered the laird’s bed chamber, she found Freya sobbing as Andrew convulsed upon the bed.
Chapter Fifteen
“What has happened? I thought we were able tae get it out o’ him in time,” Alana asked in alarm.
“I dinnae ken,” Freya replied. “He was lyin’ there quietly and then he started tae shakin’ like a tree in a storm.”
“How long has he been this way?” Alana asked, feeling his forehead.
“But mere moments,” Freya answered, wringing her hands in distress.
“Freya, I need ye tae listen tae me carefully.” When Freya looked at her, Alana went on. “Go tae the kitchen. There is another kettle of boiled mulberry leaves in vinegar hanging o’er the fire. Bring it tae me as quickly as ye can manage without burnin’ yerself.”
“Aye,” Freya replied, nodding her head in understanding. She raced from the room as fast as her legs would carry her.
Alana heard Malcolm’s voice in the hallway calling after Freya, but she did not stop to answer him. “Maither? Maither!”
Malcolm entered Andrew’s room and seeing Alana there with his father’s shaking body, he hurried over to the bedside. “What has happened?”
“I dinnae ken. I thought we got it out o’ him, but now I fear that we were tae late,” Alana replied, fear gripping her insides.
“Ye must save him,” Malcolm demanded. He moved forward and grabbed his father by the shoulders, attempting to stop the convulsions by sheer force.
“That will nae make it cease,” Alana warned.
“Help him,” Malcolm begged, pleading with his eyes. “He cannae die.”
“I will do everythin’ I can tae save him, but in the end, it is in hands far greater than mine,” Alana promised.
“Perhaps Finlay is right. Perhaps ye are the one who did this and ye only wish us tae think ye are helpin’ him,” Malcolm bit out bitterly.
“Malcolm! Hold yer wheesht! Now move out o’ the way and let Alana do as she must,” Freya ordered as she came sailing through the door as fast as her legs would carry her. “Ye are daft if ye think that Alana is capable o’ harmin’ yer faither in such a way.”
Freya handed Alana the kettle and assisted her in pouring the liquid down Andrew’s throat. Malcolm watched in silence, his body tense with worry and fear. Alana did everything she could to counteract the effects of the poison. When she could do no more, Andrew lay quiet, deathly pale, and weak. “I will go and make another kettle,” Alana stated, leaving Freya and Malcolm alone with Andrew and heading back to the kitchen.
She met Fergus on the stairs. “The laird has taken a turn for the worse,” she informed him.
“What happened?” Fergus asked, his face drawn with concern.
“I dinnae ken. It appears we did nae get the poison out o’ him in time,” Alana replied. “I am on my way tae make another kettle. Would ye be willin’ tae look in on Eilidh and make sure she has nae done the same?”
“Aye, lass. I will find ye after,” Fergus promised and they parted ways.
When Alana entered the kitchen, she stoked the fire and placed another kettle of mulberry leaves and vinegar over the flames. She poked at the wood in the fireplace and watched the sparks fly. Malcolm’s words echoed through her mind and she cringed at the idea that he would believe her capable of such a thing. Had she wished to poison the laird, she would have done it her first day in the castle, then returned home. She could not shake the feeling that her father was somehow responsible, whether directly or indirectly she did not know.
“Eilidh is restin’ peacefully,” Fergus informed her as he joined her by the fire.
“That ‘tis good,” Alana answered, glancing up at him from where she knelt upon the floor.
Fergus knelt down beside her and studied her face. “What is it, lass? Somethin’ else has happened. I can see it in yer eyes.”
“Malcolm believes Finlay,” Alana informed him.
“He cannae actually believe it. He is nae that daft. He is just hurt,” Fergus explained. “He is as worried as the rest o’ us about his faither and the future o’ the clan.”
“I spoke in anger. I dinnae believe that ye are guilty o’ his murder, but I do believe yer faither tae be responsible,” Malcolm’s voice interrupted from the doorway. “And I intend tae find the man who did it. I have called a meetin’ o’ the Murray and Erskine clans. There has been a great deal o’ unrest since my faither fell ill and this most recent incident will only prove tae worsen things. We need tae show the clans that we are still strong and able tae protect them. News o’ yer faither’s comin’ attack has struck fear in tae the hearts o’ our people and the poisonin’ o’ the laird has only made them fear all the more. They are jumpin’ at shadows and there are rumors o’ selectin’ another laird. Fergus, I would like ye at my side when I go tae speak tae them. I need a calm reassuring voice tae soothe them.”
“Aye, I will join ye,” Fergus agreed and stood up.
“I would like tae speak with Alana alone for a moment if ye would nae mind, Fergus,” Malcolm requested. “I promise I will nae hurt or upset her in any way.”
Fergus looked at Alana and she nodded her co
nsent. “I will be just outside if ye need me,” he reassured her. Turning, he exited the kitchen and took up his promised post just outside the door.
“I dinnae believe ye capable o’ murder, but I dinnae trust ye,” Malcolm informed her. “Ye hurt me, Alana. Ye deceived me and then ye lay with me kennin’ full well what yer faither wished tae do tae my family. I cannae forgive ye for that, but I will nae allow ye tae be brought tae harm for yer misdeeds and ye will nae hurt by my hand. I thank ye for savin’ my faither’s life.” With that he turned and left the kitchen, Fergus following in his wake.
* * *
Malcolm stood before his fellow clansmen and women and looked out over their worried faces. “How can ye protect us when ye cannae even protect yer own faither? The bastard sent his own daughter in among ye and ye did nae ken who she was,” a man from the crowd exclaimed.
“I understand yer fears and yer need for strong leadership during a time o’ crisis. I promise ye that I will nae rest until I find the man who did this tae my faither, our laird,” Malcolm replied.
“What about the daughter?” another voice called out. “Is she nae the one tae have done it?”
“Nae, she is nae,” Fergus barked back. Under his breath he murmured, “Finlay has been runnin’ his gob.”
“Alana is nae responsible for the attack on my faither,” Malcolm answered. “She is the one who saved his life.”
“What about Rory Murray?” another voice yelled.
“We dinnae ken as tae Rory Murray’s plans. All we have are the tall tales o’ a frightened lass,” Malcolm answered. Fergus growled in disapproval from behind him, but he ignored it. “Ye needn’t worry about somethin’ that may ne’er come tae pass. Should we nae first verify that the lass speaks truth?” he asked, attempting to calm the crowd.
“Is that yer head or yer nether parts a talkin’? I heard ye bed the lass,” the voice called again.
Malcolm could feel his skin flush with anger and he fought the urge to wade through the crowd and punch the man. If Fergus’ clenched fists were any inclination, so was he. “Whether I bed the lass or nae has nae bearin’ on this discussion. My family’s first priority is the clans and ye ken it well.”
Some people nodded, others shuffled their feet and grumbled under their breath. Malcolm studied the crowd, taking in those that he predicted would be trouble in the near future. His father’s illness would tempt the more ambitious among them to challenge for the right of laird. “I will find a way tae get at the truth o’ these words and find the man responsible for poisoning my faither. Ye have my word.”
More shuffling and grumbling took place. “And how do ye plan tae do such a thing?” the voice called once more.
“Ah, but if I told ye that what is tae say that ye are nae a spy who would run off tae tell yer master my plans?” Malcolm asked, hoping to shut the man up.
The crowd went silent and everyone began looking at the person next to them with suspicion. “Now ye have turned them on each other,” Fergus whispered in warning.
“I dinnae mean tae say that any o’ ye are disloyal tae my faither, but it is better tae keep my own confidence in the matter tae ensure the safety o’ the clan and my family,” Malcolm explained. “I only ask that ye give me a bit o’ time tae find the man responsible and tae verify the truth of claims pertaining to Rory Murray.”
The crowd murmured some more, then fell silent as one among them stepped forward. Malcolm gathered that he had been selected to speak on the clan’s behalf. “We will give ye the time ye ask for, but ken this. If ye dinnae find the culprit responsible and the claims pertainin’ to Rory Murray are true, then we will have nae choice but to choose a more fittin’ leader tae protect us. As much as we respect ye and yer family, Malcolm, ye are nae yer faither and the clan needs a leader such as he was in his prime, strong and ruthless against his enemies.”
The crowd began to disband and Malcolm was left staring after them cursing the day his father had fallen ill. “Dinnae take it tae heart, lad. They are frightened o’ what the future may hold. They dinnae ken all that yer family has been through. Nae tae add tae yer worries, lad, but what is it ye plan tae do exactly?” Fergus asked.
Malcolm turned to look at his godfather and met his eyes. “I plan tae travel tae Rory Murray’s stronghold in the Cairngorm Mountains and do a wee bit o’ spying o’ my own.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Take the harlot with ye or I swear I will kill her with my own two hands,” Finlay warned Malcolm as he watched him pack for his journey.
“I asked ye tae take care o’ things while I am gone, nae perform executions,” Malcolm retorted, frustrated with Finlay’s obsession with Alana.
“And I am tellin’ ye that if ye wish for me nae tae kill her, ye cannae leave her here,” Finlay argued. “I dinnae ken why ye insist on protectin’ her after everythin’ she has done.”
“She saved the life o’ my faither, sister, and wee nephew. I cannae allow ye tae kill her, Finlay, and I am surprised at yer willingness tae kill a lass,” Malcolm remarked. “’Tis nae somethin’ I thought I would e’er hear ye say until ye met her.”
“She is the devil in disguise and she has bewitched ye in tae carin’ for her. Perhaps ye should leave her here so that I can save ye from her grasp,” Finlay voiced his thoughts aloud.
“I am nae bewitched by anyone, least o’ all Alana Murray,” Malcolm promised to his brother. “Ye dinnae need tae worry about me.”
“Ah, but I do,” Finlay replied. “Ye are under her spell and need tae be released from her snare.”
Malcolm was uncomfortable with the way Finlay was speaking of Alana and began to truly fear for her safety. Just because he was angry with her himself did not mean he wished her dead. Finlay had not been himself since her arrival and Malcolm did not understand the extreme emotions of hatred and disgust that she brought out in his brother. “Ye are better than this, Finlay. What has happened tae ye? Should I choose another tae led the clan while I am away?”
“Nae, brother. I will be fine as long as I dinnae have tae lay eyes on the chit,” Finlay promised.
“Fine, I will take her with me. I could use a guide anyway,” Malcolm agreed. “What can ye tell me o’ what ye saw when ye discovered the truth about Alana?”
Malcolm spent the next hour listening to every detail of Finlay’s search for Alana’s origins and where he could find the village in the mountains. Finlay drew him a rough map and Malcolm tucked it into his sporran. When the brothers parted ways, Malcolm went in search of Alana. He found her in the laird’s bedchamber tending to his father.
“I need ye tae come with me tae the mountains,” Malcolm informed her. “If I leave ye here, Finlay has sworn tae kill ye and I cannae allow that. Ye will act as my guide and lead me tae yer home, but I warn ye now, lass, if ye betray me tae yer faither or brother, Finlay will be the least o’ yer worries. Now go and pack what ye need for the journey.”
Alana stared at him in fear as if he had taken leave of his senses. “I cannae return tae my faither. He will kill me for my betrayal.”
“Ye can and ye will. Whose hand would ye rather die at? Finlay’s? Yer faither’s? Mine perhaps?” Malcolm threatened. He did nae mean what he said. He would never have a laid a hand on her in malice, but he needed to scare her enough that she would come along willingly.
Alana silently stood up from her chair and walked over to Malcolm. “Ye will regret askin’ me tae join ye when my faither discovers that ye are spyin’ on him. He will make the both o’ us regret it verra much,” she warned, then slipped past him to go and pack her belongings.
* * *
“He’s takin’ ye where!?” Mary screeched, waking up the baby in her arms, causing it to cry. “Shh, Shh, Shh. Hush now,” she soothed, rocking him back and forth. More softly she said to Alana, “Ye cannae go. It is tae dangerous for the both o’ ye.”
“I tried tae tell him that, but he will nae listen tae reason. He says if he does nae take me with him that Finlay
will kill me,” Alana explained. “My faither will find out we are there and he will make us pay dearly.”
“I will speak with him. I will make him see reason,” Mary replied, firmly setting her jaw in stubborn determination.
“I fear it is tae late for that. He has already given his word tae the clan,” Alana informed her.
“Och, the bampot,” Mary exclaimed. “My brother does nae have the sense God gave a hedgehog.”
“Well, let us hope that he gave him enough tae keep us both alive,” Alana stated.
“Aye,” Mary agreed and crossed herself in silent prayer.
When Alana had packed everything she would need for the journey, she went to bid Freya and Fergus farewell. She found them both by Andrew’s bedside. “Ye cannae go,” Freya argued with her son’s decision. “What if Andrew needs ye again?”
