Surrender to the Highlander

by Lynsay Sands

  Niels had barely had the thought about her lack of skill when Edith stopped removing the preserves she'd put on and began to move her mouth up and down his length in a rhythmic manner with her hand leading. It was a rhythm he recognized, three strokes and a slight pause and then three more repeated over and over. Niels recognized it because it was how he played the fiddle as a rule, and how he'd played it that morning in the meadow as he'd given her pleasure the second time. He'd noted her watching a time or two, but apparently, the clever minx had been paying more attention than he'd realized.

  And unless Moibeal had advised her on the mechanics of grasp and whatnot, Edith appeared to be a natural, he noted as a groan slid from his lips. She was holding him firmly with both lips and hand, but not too tightly. She was also being careful to avoid grazing him with her teeth, which he would thank God for later, Niels decided as he drew close to the point of exploding and his body began to tighten and strain toward it.

  Niels was about to warn her that he was about to spill his seed so that she could remove her mouth if she wished, when Edith suddenly froze. Blinking his eyes open, he glanced to her just in time to see the confusion and panic on her face as she began to heave and then puke up preserves all over his prick.

  Jaw dropping, Niels gaped at her briefly, and then reached forward with concern when she suddenly toppled over and lay on the floor convulsing and heaving and bringing up the rest of what she'd eaten that day.

  "Edith!" Niels cried, lunging off the bed to kneel beside her. Grabbing her shoulders, he held her until she'd finished purging and then rolled her on her back. Peering at her pale, unconscious face with both concern and confusion, he brushed her hair away from her cheeks, and then did what he'd seen Rory do several times and lifted her eyelids. His head jerked back at once as if from a blow as Niels noted that her eyes were dilated. It was how they'd been when they'd first arrived at Drummond and Rory had seemed to see that as an indication that she'd been poisoned. Recalling that, Niels felt his heart lodge itself somewhere in his throat.

  Scooping her up off the floor, he carried her around to lay her in the bed, and then turned and rushed to the door, his boots thumping as grimly as the thoughts in his head at that moment. Tugging the door open, Niels rushed out and up the hall to the top of the stairs, bellowing for Rory.

  Chapter 10

  "Aye. Poison. As ye thought," Rory said grimly. Straightening from examining Edith, he turned to Niels and opened his mouth to say more, only to pause briefly with his mouth open and eyes wide, before saying with disgust, "Put some clothes on, brother, or at least clean the puke off your cock. Good Lord!"

  Glancing down at the mess covering his groin, Niels scowled and then turned sharply and moved to the basin to begin cleaning himself as he asked, "Is she going to be all right?"

  "I'm hoping so, aye," Rory said, turning back to Edith.

  "When we first got here ye said was she poisoned again she could die," Niels reminded him grimly.

  "Aye. If she'd been poisoned again at that time she surely would have died," he assured him. "But she's been eating well and rebuilding her strength since she woke up. And she seems to have tossed up the poison. Or at least I think she has. She certainly tossed up everything I know her to have eaten today. And some I did no' ken about," he added dryly before asking. "Did Jaimie make more pastries with preserves in them? I do no' recall her eating cooked fruit."

  "Nay. She had that up here," Niels muttered as he finished cleaning himself and moved to grab his shirt and pull it on over his head. Walking to the foot of the bed now, he bent and picked up the goblet the preserves had been in and handed it to Rory. "Was the poison in this?"

  Rory took the goblet, sniffed it delicately and then stuck a finger in and licked it to taste the preserves. After a moment, he shook his head.

  "I do no' think it was in this," he said, setting the goblet on the bedside table as a knock sounded at the door.

  Niels moved to answer it, his eyes widening when he saw that it was Tormod, Geordie and Alick. When he saw that his brothers carried Edith's trencher and drink from their celebratory dinner, he frowned and asked, "What's that for?"

  "I recalled ye mentioning that Edith seemed quiet and pale at dinner and wondered if the poison might have been in her food or drink at sup," Rory explained, moving to join him at the door.

  Niels frowned as he watched him sniff at the remains of food in the trencher and pointed out, "We ate out of the same trencher and I'm no' ill. It can no' be the food."

  Nodding, Rory handed the trencher back to Geordie and took the mead from Alick to sniff. The way he immediately stiffened made Niels narrow his eyes.

  "Poison?" Tormod asked grimly.

  "Aye, this smells like the tonic Victoria left behind," Rory murmured, sniffing again.

  "I thought that was all gone," Geordie said with a frown.

  "Aye. 'Twas," Rory said grimly. "Obviously, someone made more."

  "So Victoria's tonic was the source of the poison?" Niels asked grimly.

  "I think so. But now as then 'tis hard to tell. The smell is very faint this time, but still carries the scent of several herbs," Rory said, and then peered at the nearly full glass and said, "It does no' appear Edith drank much of this. That is something anyway."

  "But how did it get in the mead?" Geordie asked. "'Tis from the pitcher I got from the cask here in this room. The fresh cask we opened on arriving. 'Twas supposed to be safe. And I watched the pitcher I fetched every moment until ye and Edith went above stairs."

  "Except when we were at the wedding down at the church," Alick pointed out. "Ye left it on the table then."

  Geordie shook his head. "Nay. If I could have taken it down to the ceremony outside the church I would have, but I could no' so I dumped that pitcher and fetched fresh from the cask in here when we got back."

  "The cask in here," Niels said slowly, turning to look at the cask in question. It sat on the table along the wall where Edith had been waiting for him naked in the dark. As Rory walked toward it, Niels reminded them, "The killer shot an arrow at Edith from this room just before noon."

  Geordie stared at him blankly and then turned to watch Rory sniff the liquid in the open cask. When he set it down, turned a grim face to them and nodded, Geordie cursed. "I'm sorry, brother. I did no' think about the killer being in here and what they may ha'e done."

  Niels shook his head wearily. "Nay, neither did I. And I should ha'e. I guess I was just so distracted with the wedding and everything . . ."

  He turned to peer at Edith in the bed. She looked so small and frail under the linens and furs Rory had pulled over her. And it was his fault. He'd failed to protect her. He wouldn't do so again.

  "I'm taking her to Buchanan the minute she wakes up," he announced firmly, moving to the bed to sit on the edge of it and brush her hair away from her face.

  "Aye. Mayhap 'tis for the best," Tormod said sadly. "I shall be sorry to see her go, but ye may have a better chance o' keeping her alive there. Even does the killer follow . . . well, surely yer people would ken if a stranger was in their midst. So there ye'd only have to worry about stray arrows when she went outside."

  Niels stiffened at the words, knowing they were true. She wouldn't be completely safe even at Buchanan. Not if the killer was determined to get at her. But she'd be safer at least . . . if he could get her to stay inside the keep. Somehow, he suspected that wasn't likely.

  "I should go below and see if any more o' the men I sent out have returned with news o' Brodie," Tormod muttered, moving toward the door. "Only one has returned so far and two o' the keeps I sent men to were close enough they should have got there and back today." Pausing at the door, he glanced back and said, "Let me know when she wakes, or--" Mouth tightening, he changed his mind about whatever he'd been about to say and said instead, "Just let me know when she wakes."

  He didn't wait for a response before leaving the room.

  Niels heard his brothers talking in soft murmurs by the door
, but didn't bother trying to listen. He suspected they were discussing who would return to Buchanan with him and who would stay. He already knew Rory would be unwilling to leave just yet with Effie still unconscious. He suspected Geordie and Alick would escort Edith and him home to Buchanan to help him make sure she arrived there safely, but then would return until Rory was ready to give up on the old maid and leave.

  When the door closed softly, he glanced around to see that Geordie and Alick had left. As Rory walked back toward him, Niels asked, "Should I be making broth to dribble down her throat?"

  "Nay. Wait and see if she wakes up come morning," Rory said. "There is naught to do fer now . . . except perhaps to clean her up."

  "Clean her up?" Niels asked with bewilderment, turning to peer at Edith's pale but clean face. He'd washed away the mess as he'd waited for Rory to reach the room. Edith was clean.

  "She was naked and uncovered on the linens when I came in earlier," Rory reminded him.

  "Aye?" Niels said with bewilderment. Not understanding what that had to do with anything.

  "Well, her legs were no' quite closed and I noticed she has what appears to be preserves seeping out from between her legs. Ye may want to clean that up so she does no' wake up and find her thighs stuck together with the sticky mess," he said as if he was talking about the time of day. Giving up his insouciance then, he asked, "It was on ye too when I entered. What the devil were the two o' ye doing up here to get preserves on her quoniam?"

  Niels merely shook his head and moved to fetch the basin and damp linen from the table to wash the preserves away. This wasn't how he'd imagined removing it when Edith had mentioned that she'd applied it. But then nothing about his wedding night had gone as he'd planned.

  Edith woke to loud snoring and something heavy across her chest. Opening her eyes, she looked around with confusion, only to still as her gaze landed on Niels. He lay on top of the linens and furs in only his shirt and boots, while she was naked beneath the warm bed coverings.

  She stared at him for a moment as the memories of the night before slid over her, and then grimaced and closed her eyes again, quite sure she simply could not face the day ahead. Or at least her husband. Dear God, her efforts to please him had ended in a miserable failure, and the poor man must now wonder if marrying her had not been a huge mistake.

  Another snore sounded beside her and Edith opened her eyes to survey the room as it occurred to her that if she continued to lay there she would definitely have to face Niels sooner rather than later. Whereas, if she got up and found some chore to attend somewhere else, like say down in the village, well, she might be able to avoid the humiliation of having to face him for hours. Perhaps even until the sup.

  That thought was enough to have her sliding sideways in the bed, easing her way out from under his arm and hand. Niels stirred only once during this operation and Edith froze and waited a heartbeat until he issued another snore, and then continued sideways until she was free to sit up and get out of bed.

  Hurrying to her chest, she took the first gown she touched and tugged it on over her head as she rushed to the door. Edith eased it open, and then slipped out. She was careful to pull it silently closed, and then began to walk away before bothering to do up the gown's laces.

  "M'lady!"

  Edith stopped abruptly and glanced around to see her maid rushing toward her.

  "What are ye doing up, m'lady?" the girl asked with exasperation, grabbing her arm and turning her back toward the room. "Ye should still be abed. Ye were very sick last night. Ye nearly died . . . again," she added on an irritated note.

  "I am fine," Edith assured her, digging her heels in as the girl tried to drag her back to the room she'd just escaped. "'Twas just a bit o' a stomach upset. But I feel fine this morning," she assured her maid, tugging her arm free.

  "Stomach upset?" Moibeal asked with amazement and then shook her head. "Nay. 'Twas poison again, m'lady. Did yer lord husband no' tell ye?"

  The maid sounded vexed that Niels had failed to impart such important information, so despite Edith's shock at yet again being poisoned, she said faintly, "Nay, he is still sleeping."

  Moibeal blinked and, just like that, the irritation at the man turned instantly to compassion for him. "Oh, aye, and no doubt. The poor man was up most o' the night watching over ye," she said sympathetically. "He was still pacing about at dawn when I came to yer room to check on ye. He looked exhausted then and I said as how he should lay down, that ye'd surely rouse him when ye woke up." She scowled at Edith now. "Which ye obviously did no' do, so ye can just turn around and march back in there and--"

  "Nay!" Edith snapped, tugging her arm free when the girl tried to strong-arm her back the way she'd come. "If he is exhausted I should let him rest," she added less sharply, and was relieved to see the words make the maid pause. Hoping to distract her further, she asked, "Are ye sure 'twas poison? My stomach was bothering me at the sup, but I thought it just nerves about the bedding to come," she admitted.

  "Oh, nay, 'twas no' nerves," Moibeal assured her. Frowning as she noted that Edith's laces were undone, the maid began to untangle them as she explained. "They sorted out that it was poison in yer mead. They figure the killer must have dosed the cask in yer room when they were in there shooting arrows at ye."

  "'Twas only one arrow," Edith muttered.

  Ignoring that, Moibeal added, "And Lord Rory said 'twas just a good thing ye only had a couple sips at sup, as he thinks the killer has changed the poison and increased the dosage in the hopes o' finishing ye off. He thinks if ye'd had more than a couple sips, ye'd ha'e died ere ye could bring it back up. 'Tis lucky ye've such a sensitive stomach and puked it all out."

  "That is debatable," Edith said under her breath, recalling the event. If she'd been truly lucky, she would have done it after pleasuring Niels, not all over him in the middle of it.

  Ignoring that as well, the maid said quietly, "This latest attempt upset Lord Niels something fierce, and he said as how he plans to take ye away from here today when ye wake."

  "Away?" Edith asked with surprise. "To where?"

  "To Buchanan," she said solemnly. "'Tis obvious he cares fer ye and wants ye safe . . . and so do I, m'lady," she added quietly.

  Edith frowned. "But Brodie is no' back yet."

  "Not yet," Moibeal agreed mildly. "But Tormod sent men out yesterday after the incident with the arrow. Each carried a message from him about what has been happening here, telling him that 'twas no' illness but murder, and asking him to return."

  Edith bit her lip at this news, wondering why no one had bothered to mention it to her. She supposed what with the unexpected wedding and everything it might have been forgotten. On the other hand, it didn't really matter anyway. She wasn't at all sure Brodie would be any more likely to return if he knew there was a murderer at Drummond killing off members of their family than he had been willing to stay when he'd thought it just illness.

  "There, 'tis done," Moibeal said quietly, finishing with the laces and stepping away.

  "Thank ye," Edith murmured and turned back to continue toward the stairs.

  Her maid sighed at once and followed. "Ye ken if yer lord husband wishes to leave today, we need to pack yer chests and--"

  "We'll worry about that when he wakes up," Edith interrupted. "If he was up all night fretting over me, he needs his sleep."

  "Besides which, yer thinking o' refusing to go, are ye no'?" Moibeal asked dryly, and then pointed out, "But he's yer husband now, and ye ken the choice is no longer yers."

  Edith stopped walking and turned to stare at her. "What?"

  "I feared ye had no' thought on that," Moibeal said with a sigh, and then straightened her shoulders and said, "Me lady, yer father was as kind and indulgent with ye as he was with Brodie. He let ye run the keep as ye wished, and allowed ye to visit Lady Saidh and Jo as the mood struck ye, but--"

  "Are ye suggesting I'm as spoiled as Brodie?" Edith interrupted with dismay.

  "Nay," Moibe
al said at once. "Ye've always been a hard worker and concerned with the welfare o' the people here, while Brodie cared only fer himself and his pleasure. But yer father gave ye freedoms many women do no' have," she added solemnly. "If ye did no' wish to do something or go somewhere, he did no' make ye. But he could have. It was his right . . . and now 'tis yer lord husband's right. If he wishes ye to go to Buchanan, ye've no choice but to go."

  Edith narrowed her eyes at those words, knowing they were true, but not pleased by them. Giving an annoyed "hrrmph," she turned to continue on to the stairs, her mind racing with ideas of how to get her own way and stay until Brodie returned. She was halfway down the stairs to the great hall when it occurred to her that thinking that way might be more like her brother than she'd like to admit.

  The idea brought her up short, but then her mind immediately rejected that suggestion. Her brother would not have cared about the well-being of the people here, and that was the reason she was wanting to stay until Brodie returned. It wasn't for herself, she pointed out and released a relieved sigh and started walking again.

  "Yer up. How do ye feel?"

  Edith looked up at that comment and forced a smile when she saw Rory approaching from the kitchens. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to see him . . . but she wasn't. She was afraid that, knowing that Niels wanted to take her away from Drummond today, the man might go wake his brother, and she wasn't ready for that. She needed a plan to avoid having to follow through with her husband's plan.

  "I feel fine, m'lord. Thank ye," Edith murmured.

  "Please, call me Rory," he said with amusement. "We are family now."

  She blinked in surprise at that. Silly as it seemed, it hadn't occurred to her that marrying Niels meant she now had six new brothers. And Saidh was her sister now, at least in law, she realized and beamed at the man. "Thank ye, Rory. And ye must call me Edith."

  He smiled and nodded, and then glanced toward the stairs. "Where is Niels?"