by Eliza Knight
“Did you find anything?” Jamie walked into the room.
“No. I did see our ghost. It is Evan. He can’t speak.”
“Is that usual for ghosts?”
She spun to face Jamie. At first, she thought him sarcastic until she saw the playful smirk on his face as he leaned against the door jamb. She smiled and inclined her head.
“You’d have to ask Mother. She is the expert on ghosts. Help me move these barrels. They are the last things to search.” She leaned over, her hands on either side of the barrel’s rim.
They looked at every barrel in the front of the pantry and were about to give up when light bounced off something on the floor. She bent down to see what it was.
“What did you find?” She put a filled vial in his palm.
He lifted it to his nose and snapped his head back. “Smells like deadly nightshade. No one would keep poison in the pantry. I don’t think this was being stored here. I do think someone dropped it.”
He slipped it in his pocket. “Let’s keep this to ourselves until we have more information.”
“You spoke to Lewis. What did he say?”
“He had little to add. They never heard Evan or Angel raise their voices even when they argued. They swear Evan was loyal to the family. I’m a good judge of character. I believed what Lewis told me.” He waved his hand in a dismissive gesture.
“We can’t confirm there was an argument. We can’t confirm a motive for the killings or for possibly turning against The Maxwell. All we know is the two of them are dead, stabbed.” Helpless. She hated the feeling. “Mary said there was lots of blood, skin under Angel’s fingernails—”
“And blue lips,” Jamie said.
“Yes, blue lips. Why did she think Angel was alive?”
“Mary said there wasn’t much on Angel. If a wound is made after the person dies, it… doesn’t… bleed.” The words barely out of his mouth, his expressive face changed and became more somber.
“That means she wasn’t killed with a knife.” Laura turned to Jamie who looked as if he was weighing her statement.
“No, she wasn’t.”
“When did he stab her? If Evan killed her in anger then regretted it enough to kill himself, would he stab her?” She glanced at Jamie. He stroked his chin, deep in thought.
“No, that makes no sense at all. There’s nothing left to do here.” He started to leave.
“Where’re you going?” She quickly locked up the pantry and followed after him. She’d look through the barrels in the back of the pantry another time.
“To the barracks.” He turned around abruptly and she slammed into his chest. He had to admit her tenacity brought him around. She may actually have something here. He continued on, his long strides ate up the distance as she struggled to keep up.
“We’re in luck. Jermyn, Brian, a moment if you will.” he called to the two men in front of the barracks door.
“You were by the pantry the day they found Evan and Angel. Did you overhear or see anything?” Jamie asked.
“Nothing out of the ordinary until Mary called us. When we went inside we saw Evan and Angel,” Brian said. Jermyn nodded in agreement.
“Did you hear them argue? Did you see anyone else near the pantry?” She blurted out.
The two men looked at each other. “No, no one other than Thomas. I didn’t hear anything, did you?” Jermyn asked Brian. The soldier shook his head. “You can ask him. He’s on guard duty by the portcullis today.”
They thanked the soldiers for their help and moved on toward the gatehouse.
“I thought I heard something and asked the others to hush. It wasn’t anything. A few minutes later, Mary went in and came rushing out telling us not to let anyone in. We stood guard at the pantry while Mary got the Captain. Oliver had us join him. It was a sad sight.” Thomas shook his head. “Perhaps Holger can give you more information. He was standing guard in the pantry when we entered.”
Laura and Jamie stared at each other. The tinker. One of those silent souls you overlook while they go about their work.
“Had he been in there long?”
“He must have been bringing crates into the pantry. He was sweaty and worked in his undertunic.
“Where can we find him?”
“He’s visiting the villages along the River Nith. He should be back to the castle by the end of the week.”
They’d have to wait.
Chapter Seven
“We’ve spent two days speaking to Evan’s and Angel’s families and in here looking through every tin and crate without finding any additional information. Is there any place else to look?” Jamie followed Laura into the pantry. His hand covered hers as they both reached for the lit lantern on the peg, his hand over hers. She pulled her hand away as if she’d been burnt by a cinder.
Dusting off the empty shelf, she replaced the tins. She had methodically inspected every shelf and its contents. With the last shelf done she scanned the area for anything she may have overlooked. “The last place to search is the back of the pantry where the crates are stored. I doubt we’ll find anything that far back, but I want to be thorough.”
“They were killed in this room. There must be something here to give us a clue besides the vial of deadly nightshade.” Jamie sounded as frustrated as she was and for the first time she doubted how to proceed.
“I… I don’t know where else to look. Holger won’t be back for another three days and time is growing short. Let’s hope he has the information we need. I keep telling myself that tinkers have a knack of listening and seeing things others overlook. You said you spoke to more of Evan’s family?”
“Half the family is mourning and the other half is disowning. One of Evan’s cousins is sure Angel corrupted Evan.” He pulled a barrel away from the wall for her.
“Yes, I heard a similar accusation from someone in Angel’s family, Evan corrupted Angel.” She ran a broom behind the barrel. Nothing.
“They were talkative, but gave me nothing we didn’t already know. I have to speak to Herbert. You coming along?”
She stopped sweeping mid-stroke and raised her chin.
“Something wrong?” he asked.
She shoveled what little debris she swept up into a barrel and put the broom to the side. “No, nothing’s wrong. You go on. I’ll finish up in here and meet you in the Great Hall.”
She watched him move across the yard. A graceful man, he commanded attention without saying a word. He knew who he was and his worth. He had a knack for giving you his full attention and making you feel no one else mattered.
Halfway through the yard, he stopped and looked over his shoulder. Her breath caught as his stare met hers. She should look away, but didn’t want to. He gave her a slow nod, then walked on and disappeared amongst the crowd.
She wasn’t sure what had just happened. Whatever it was made her heart pound. And here she thought she was past her girlhood fascination. She let out a deep sigh and restrained from touching the beads at her neck. Best she not confirm her thoughts. She went back to the pantry.
“Do you have a moment? I have questions about the two deaths before you leave.” Jamie stood at the solar door. Herbert stood at his desk and packed his satchel. “If you’re busy I can speak to you at another time.”
“No. Now is fine.” Herbert motioned to the empty seat across from him. “I’ll be away at Scone until the end of the week and wanted to speak to you before I left. You start while I finish packing.” Evan moved from the door and took the offered seat.
“About Evan and Angel, aside from being very dead, what were the conditions of the bodies?”
“They had been moved.” Herbert closed the satchel and sat. “That’s what I wanted to tell you. Oliver said he didn’t let anyone into the pantry until I arrived. Evan’s body was covered in blood, even his hands. There was a smear of blood along the floor as if a body had been dragged. I thought perhaps Evan dragged himself over to Angel, but there were no hand prints on the floor. There
should have been hand prints. I’m sure someone dragged Evan’s body and put it over Angel’s.”
“Mary mentioned blood on the floor and that Angel’s wound hadn’t bled and her lips were blue. Did you know she found skin under Angel’s fingernails? Evan’s body had no scratch marks.” Jamie rose and stood at the window. “It’s my belief someone suffocated Angel. That’s why her lips were blue. I also suspect she was dead before someone stabbed her, the reason why she didn’t bleed.”
A movement by the gatehouse caught Jamie’s attention. In a cloud of dust and the clatter of wagon wheels, the tinker and his wagon rolled into the yard. He was caught off guard by Holger’s early arrival. Finally, they’d be able to make some progress. He glanced toward the kitchen area to see if Laura had noticed. She wasn’t there. He couldn’t wait to tell her. Jamie turned to Herbert.
“Evan didn’t murder Angel in a sudden rage. Evan is as much a victim as Angel. They were both murdered by someone else.”
“Why would anyone want to kill either of them?”
“We found this in the pantry. It must have rolled amongst some baskets.” Jamie handed him the vial.
Herbert smelled it and looked at Jamie.
“Yes, deadly nightshade, a very potent poison.” Jamie watched as Herbert hefted the vial in his hand.
“I believe Evan and Angel were innocent victims. Someone planned to poison the food. Evan and Angel surprised them and the two paid with their lives. Donald’s warning is accurate.”
“Walk with me to the stable. As a member of the Parliament at Scone, some of my decisions are not popular and make me a target. It’s nothing new, but this attempt if that’s what it is, takes a serious turn.”
“You mean traitor.” Jamie spit out the words with disgust.
“I want to discuss securing the castle while I’m gone.” Herbert rose and the two men left.
Laura picked an apple out of a basket outside the pantry. Several dropped over the side. She scurried after the one that rolled into the pantry.
“Here m’lady,” Sonia said at the pantry door, handing Laura the basket and escaped fruit. Laura bit into the apple in her hand.
“Come, m’lady. You shouldn’t be in here, not alone.” Sonia, her brows pinched together in a panicked expression, reached out for Laura. The girl’s feet shuffled as close to the edge of the door sill as she dare get, careful not to cross the threshold. Laura could almost feel the girl’s quickened heartbeat.
“Sonia, I’ll be fine. What has you so agitated?”
“You mustn’t be in there. It’s dangerous. I’ll not leave until you come out of the room.” Sonia glanced at the kitchen then focused on the doorway to the courtyard and wrung her hands.
Herbert was right. The villagers are a superstitious lot. The girl must be apprehensive being in the area because of the deaths. There was only one way to ease Sonia’s mind. Laura stepped out of the room.
“That’s much better, m’lady. It’s not safe for you in there.” Laura walked with Sonia to the courtyard.
“You go on before Mrs. Turner catches you.” She ate the apple and watched the girl enter the guesthouse.
Laura returned to the pantry more determined to find the answer to the murders and stop these foolish fears.
Finished with her apple, she put the core on top of the barrel of salt inside the pantry door and went to the back of the pantry. Crates filled with kitchen ware that hadn’t been unpacked were hidden behind a short wall of boxes. Searching this area satisfied her compulsive need to be thorough even though it would likely yield nothing.
Too dark to see anything in this section of the room, Laura brought the lantern behind the wall and held it high as she examined each crate. Finished, she set the lantern next to her and knelt to search the floor. The light flashed on something metallic stuffed under a box. It was caught on a piece of cloth. She worked the piece free and pulled out a rag and round jeweled pin. A dark gem caught the weak lantern light.
Laura stopped and listened. Boxes scraped the floor on the other side of the waist high wall. Nothing unusual for a pantry. “Mary? Jamie? Is that you?” No one answered.
Now on her feet, she turned to go to the door. Instead, she faced a wall of boxes where the path had been. Had she gotten turned around in the dim light? She turned in a circle searching for the path. There was none and she couldn’t comprehend how that had happened.
She stepped back against the boxes and sniffed the air, trying to place the odor that wafted into the confined space. Rotten eggs?
Someone grabbed her hair and yanked her off balance. Hair combs flew in every direction. Her hands flew over her head as she tried to release her hair from the person’s grip. The attacker tried to pry the jewel from her hand, but she held it tight. He pulled her head back further. The pin and rag dropped onto the floor somewhere near where she stood and used both hands to free her hair.
Still bent backward over the crate, a cloth was forced over her mouth and nose. The odor was nauseating. She pulled at the hand holding the cloth. Her heart raced and her vision blurred. Poison. Stay calm. Fight the instinct to breathe.
Pulled back further, her foot shot out and she kicked over the lantern. She gasped for air and got gulps of the sickening poison.
Wisps of smoke filled the small space. Whoever held her pushed her away and she fell to the floor.
Stunned and disoriented, she grabbed on to the edges of a box and dragged herself up in time to glimpse the silhouette of a man in the doorway before the door banged shut and the bolt slammed into place.
Laura pulled herself up onto the box and threw her legs over the other side then stumbled to the door. She pulled on the handle. It didn’t budge. A small lick of flame erupted on the other side of the boxes. The smoke got thicker.
Using her skirt to protect her mouth, she ran her hands along the wall until she reached the barrels. Her fingers brushed the top of each one until she finally found the apple core. Her relief was only momentary. She wrenched off the barrel’s lid.
Coughing, the smoke now black and thick sucked her strength. There was not time to stop. She pulled up her skirt, filled it with salt and spread it over the fire.
Weak and lethargic from the poison, she thought she saw a man reaching for the whiskey. Evan? She tried to get to him, but her cough was deep and constant now. Her movements were slow and labored.
Overcome by smoke, she fell to the ground and saw the rag with the jeweled pin. She grabbed it before everything went black.
Jamie paced in front of the fireplace in the Great Hall and waited for Laura. He had gone to the pantry and found it locked up tight.
“Come quick,” a woman’s voice called to him.
He stopped and turned to the door. No one was there. “What is it?”
“Come quick. The pantry,” the woman shouted, her voice fading.
“Wait. What’s this about?” He rushed into the hallway. Had she rushed on to the pantry? He immediately lost interest in the woman when he saw smoke coming out from under the door.
“Fire,” he yelled and pulled the bolt. It didn’t budge. He ran into the kitchen and scanned the room for anything he could use. A mallet, used for setting stones, leaned against the wall. He grabbed it along with a bucket of water and rushed back to the pantry.
He pounded the bolt until it released. Slowly he opened the door. Overwhelmed by the smoke, he covered his mouth with his shirt sleeve.
He had to get the fire out. Jamie stepped into the room and went to the area where the smoke was thickest. He raised the bucket, about to dowse the fire when he saw an outstretched hand on the floor. Laura.
He threw the water into the fire. Quickly, he picked her up and carried her into the courtyard. Oliver and the soldiers rushed past him in such haste that the water from their buckets sloshed over the rims creating a small river from the trough in the courtyard to the kitchen.
Black soot edged her lips. A fine powder mixed with soot rimmed her nose. He tore her petticoat,
ripping off a strip of linen and dowsed it in a bucket of water that stood near. Gently he cleaned off the soot then wiggled her face.
“Laura,” he said keeping his tone even, controlled. She didn’t answer. The thought of her being harmed tore at his insides.
Her eyelids twitched, but didn’t open. He bent close to her then sat back. His left brow rose a fraction. Was that whiskey he smelled?
“Laura. Open your eyes,” he demanded.
Her eyes fluttered open. “Jamie?” He allowed himself to breathe again. He could hardly hear her with her choked and hoarse voice. She tried to sit up and started coughing.
“Stay still.” He held her back.
“The fire’s out. Someone had their wits about them and spread salt to dowse the flames.” Mrs. Turner stood next to him.
Glistening crystal specks on Laura’s skirt caught his attention. “Salt?”
“From the pantry barrel,” Laura said between coughs.
Mrs. Turner bent down to clean Laura’s face. “Deadly nightshade.” She stared at Jamie then rushed toward the kitchen, pushing Oliver and his men out of her way.
Poison. His chest heaved. Who would dare to hurt her? No, he had to stay calm. Whoever did this would pay. Herbert had the gates locked when he left. The culprit was within the castle walls.
Mrs. Turner ran from the kitchen carrying a cup of whiskey.
“This is strong. Drink it slowly,” The housekeeper held the cup while Laura took small sips until she drained it dry. “Lord Herbert’s wife uses deadly nightshade to brighten her eyes. I’ve learned to keep whiskey close by.”
“How did you come to be locked in the pantry?” Jamie asked.
“It’s the ghost, I tell you,” Mrs. Turner said.
“No,” Laura coughed. They waited for the spasm to pass.
“Someone came into the room.” She looked up at Mrs. Turner. “I thought Mary or Jamie came to help me. I couldn’t see in the dim light. He attacked me from behind. I never saw who assaulted me. He pulled me from behind and put a cloth over my face. I struggled, lost my footing and turned over the lantern. That’s what started the fire.”
