“And?”
She looked up, “And what?”
“I heard everything ye said, Mother,” Leith said. “How ye never loved Faither but only wanted him for a son. How long have ye been doing this to him? He never hurt ye but ye kent it right to hurt him! How long?”
“A-year-and-three months,” she said with a pitiless face. She even scoffed. “I kent the effects would have taken quicker, but he fought it and I had to increase the dosage until he finally fell under.”
Christ and his saints! His mother was a madwoman! Leith’s jaw went tight, “Why did ye make Cooper do all these things, Mother? Why did ye make him take control of so many things?”
She laughed scornfully, “Cooper is blind to anything but control. I kent if I told him to do it, it would be done without question. I kent ye would find out how he took control and force him away. I have wanted him gone for many years as I kent he was too power-hungry. But yer damned Faither wouldnae let him go, nay matter how I pleaded with him.”
She set Cooper up for his own fall! Faither was right, he had been under the control of someone but never would I have ever expected it to be me Mother!
“How did Faither fall ill again?” he demanded, even though he knew how, he wanted to hear it from her.
“I gave him the tea late the night before,” Sarah said. “He drank it and went to sleep quick. I ken it would have him act out again and I was right. I had to show ye that he wasnae worth fighting for, son.”
Deeply disturbed, Leith continued on, “Ye even maligned Mary, and even sent her to prison to cover up yer devilish deeds. Mary! The woman I love and who I am going to marry.”
Sarah hopped on her feet and her eyes were maniacal, “Over me dead body are ye going to marry her!”
Leith’s jaw stiffened so hard it was a miracle he had not chipped a tooth, “I will marry her and it is out of yer hands.”
It was like flipping a coin, the moment he said those words, his mother went from angry to morose, her face dropping and her voice getting low and beseeching, “Please nay, Leith, if ye marry that Sassenach, I’ll die. Is this what ye want, to send me to me grave unhappy?”
Swallowing over the lump in his throat, Leith grabbed her thin shoulders, “What ye need is help. I’ll have ye sent away to an abbess to get healed. Ye cannae stay this way. Let me help ye, Mother.”
Her spidery fingers grabbed the back of his shirt and hooked into the fabric like talons. Her voice was low and menacing, “Ye will nay do this to me. I will nay live in an abbess. Nay, I’m not going anywhere, nay when I worked me life away to give ye this chance, and ye turn on me like a traitor ye have become by marrying that outsider. I belong here, I built this castle, and I will die in it. Take this to yer grave, son, ye caused me to die this way.”
Before Leith could say anything, she ripped away from him, plucked a vial from her breast and downed in one gulp. Instantly, her body began to shake, the vial dropped from her quaking hands, her eyes bulged and she fell to the floor.
“Bloody hell,” Leith exclaimed as he grabbed at his mother. But it was too late, her eyes rolled to the back of her head.
Her head tilted to the side and a thin droplet of blood slipped from her lips. The vial rolled from her hand and the scent that came from it was the acidic scent of strong belladonna. His eyes clenched tight as grief and horror battled away in his chest.
Had this truly happened? Had his mother just…killed herself? For this? For him suggesting he was going to help her? For marrying Mary? For not getting her way moving Aaron from the lairdship? The questions kept coming, but no strong answers followed.
He sat back with coldness running through his body. His eyes were stuck on her lifeless body. Eventually, he reached out and slid his mother’s eyelids down. That image of his mother’s selfish, insane act would never leave his mind. To think that he had suspected almost everyone else but her, pained him.
His father had been right when he kept accusing someone of trying to kill him. Sadly, it had been closer to home than he had thought. To know now that his father’s madness was not natural and that she had been the cause of it, nearly ripped his heart in two.
Pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes, he breathed in slowly then stood. His eyes landed on his father who was now sitting up. Aaron’s eyes were dim and shadowed, and before Leith could say a word, he spoke.
“I heard every word, Leith, every one of them. If ye must grieve for her, grieve for the woman she was, the one that cared for ye as a boy, nae the woman she became.”
Leith sat on his father’s bedside and embraced him. His eyes burned but he held the pain back, “I’m sorry, Faither, about this, but I’m happy ye are back. I swear to ye, in a few days ye are going to be back entirely.”
“I ken I will, son,” Aaron said. “Just like I ken ye will be happy with yer new wife. Ye have me blessing. Make me hold me first grandbairn before the next two years though.”
Leith laughed quietly, and shook his head, “I’ll see about it.”
Epilogue
Three Months Later
Mary’s gloved hands were braced on the railing of Leith’s room, now their room, as she stared into the silver wonderland that was the snow-covered lands beyond. She was bundled up in a thick plaid dress Leith had ordered to be made for her. A thick woolen wrap was around her neck and her hands were in thick mittens.
Looking back on the past three months, she marveled. All this time it was Lady Lenichton who was the evil party and not Cooper, whom she had set out to destroy by making him undermine Leith. All these months, she had been killing her husband quietly and no one had seen it.
I suppose I should add actress to her murderous, conniving, and calculating ways.
She even remembered how, by chance, she had gotten a look at the bush she had tipped the spilled brew over and half of the bush was dried up. The woman’s secret machinations had known no bounds. Thinking of the woman’s betrayal had her thinking of her parents.
Though Mary still felt hurt, her mind was indecisive as she debated within herself if she wanted to go to England and find her parents. If only to let them know she was alive would be enough, because the guilt of leaving them not knowing if she was living or not was gnawing at her heart.
It felt too unchristian of her to let this go and not address it. She did not want them to go to their graves with this over their heads. They might not be happy with marrying a Scotsman and even worse, if they knew she was already sharing his bed. A trip during the winter would be hazardous, but she could not live with this guilt much longer.
Warm hands wrapped around her and lips pressed a kiss to her neck, just under her right ear. “I ken that look, what are ye worrying about?”
“I was thinking of visiting my parents back home,” Mary replied. “I don’t want them to die not knowing that I’m alive. It feels deceptive to me.”
“Hmm,” Leith dropped small kisses on her neck and her head canted to the side to allow him. “Why dinnae ye send a letter first. It’s a bit dangerous to travel these snow-laden mountains and I will nae risk yer life. We have twenty-one months to give me Faither a grandbairn, remember.”
Smiling, Mary spun in his arms and wrapped her hands around his neck. “How are you feeling?”
Leith kissed her slowly, and the love she felt in that kiss flowed down to her toes. Her hands slipped down the line of his shoulders and under his arms to hold onto his back. It still felt like a dream to hold and be held by this man.
“Are ye asking about me Mother and what she did with Faither?” Leith asked. To her nod, he rested his cheek on hers and sighed, “It was something like out of a dream, love. I never saw me Mother doing something as despicable as that. All this time I kent she was the victim here not having the slightest hint that she was the culprit.”
He hugged her closer, “I will mourn her but I’m happy for Faither …” he trailed off and Mary saw a deep, almost haunted look in his eyes before she shook his head and smiled softly.
“It all worked out, innit?”
Pulling away, she smiled, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
In the past month-and-a-half, she had been coaxing Rinalda to teach her some basic Gaelic. The language was so lyrical and she loved hearing when Leith would mutter a phrase or two when they were in bed. A slow smile tugged her lover’s lips. “Aiming to be a Scotswoman, are ye?”
“I thought I already was,” Mary teased. “I am yours, correct?”
Leith swore, “Woman you will be the death of me. I’m fixing to put ye on that bed and show ye how much ye are mine, but Tarrant is about to come, and so is Theodor. I ken Balfour will drop in at some point and ye need to be ready for him. He’s nae a man ye can take in once.”
“Or twice,” Mary giggled, “perhaps not even three times.”
“Aye,” Laith agreed. “Why nay start that letter, love, it’ll be a while before the dinner celebration.”
“I think you’re right,” Mary replied. “I should start the letter. If they reply, that will tell me that I’m welcome. I’d rather not have to travel many miles and be turned down. If they don’t, at least, they will know I’m alive.”
They parted with a soft kiss and she went to the writer’s desk Leith had carried in from Glasgow for her. Taking a seat, she looked around the room and smiled at the mix of Leith’s Scottish ancestry and her English culture. The tapestry of the vivid rising sun was there but to the side was a bookshelf laden with English books.
She started the letter and was halfway through it when she was called to dinner. Before she left, she fixed her hair, brushing it out again, pulling one side up to secure it with pins, and letting the rest of the thick tresses fall free over her shoulders and back. Her footsteps were quiet as she made her way to the great hall, and when she entered it, she spotted Leith talking to Theodor Addair.
The poor man had lost his wife at the same time Cooper had taken her to the forest for execution. Leith had told her how it had pained him to leave his friend, but his situation was quite dire. Just after they had buried Lady Lenichton, he had taken her to visit him. The man’s pain was still plain in his face, but the lines of grief were a bit softened.
She went nearer, smiled and slipped her arm through Leith’s, “Laird Denwen, happy to see you. I hope your journey wasn’t arduous?”
“It wasnae,” he said. “If ye dinnae mind, Lenichton, may I say, ye look lovely, Miss Thompson.”
“And why would I mind?” Leith huffed.
“Because ye have a possessive streak a mile wide and ten times longer,” Tarrant Allanach, the Laird of Robasdan, said behind them.
Mary spun to see the happy couple coming near and she went to hug Lady Robasdan with joy. “Welcome.”
Smiling, Lady Robasdan embraced her, “Happy to be here, dear.” She looked over to Leith. “And ye’ve managed to train him too.”
“Och,” Leith grunted, “Ye two are as bad as the other. Let’s get to the table before the food goes cold.”
The table was laden and the wine was flowing. Leith still stuck to water and she applauded him for it. After he had told her how he had gotten drunk at nineteen, had made the mistake of boasting he could swim the loch nearby only to nearly drown himself, she understood.
“The winters arenae as cold in the borderlands,” Laird Robasdan said while swirling his wine. “But the lochs get flooded and takes a while to cross.”
Mary looked around at the table, two seats were vacant, those of Aaron, Leith’s father, who had gone to the village early that morning, and Nicolas Cooper who had voluntarily retired from the clan’s daily running. Gone too was Fiona, the woman who had put dung on her bed and had written the threatening note, all under the influence of the misguided Cooper.
“So…” Tarrant’s voice dragged her attention back to them. “I was right all along, wasnae I?” Using his finger, he pointed to her and Leith. “Young Lenichton, I kent ye were taken with the lass the moment ye brought her to me doorstep, and now I see ye truly are. When are ye getting married, ye ken before yer first bairn comes?”
Mary felt heat race up her cheeks and knew her face was flaming red. Leith broke it by laughing. “Thank ye for making mo leannán, fixing to run for the hills, Robasdan, I kent I could always count on yer brashness.”
A little mollified, Mary, reached for her goblet, “I suspect we’ll need to have the banns published and all. My dowry, however, is left back in England.”
“Psh,” Laird Denwen snorted over his wine, “Ye dinnae need a dowry. Young Lenichton is rich enough for ye thrice over with all that gold in his coffers and his lands. Ye dinnae have to worry about that. And a priest can come in and waive the need for the banns if ye had a proper cause.”
“And what proper cause would that be?” Mary asked.
Before Leith could answer, the doors were pushed open, and Laird Lenichton strode into the room, brushing snow from his hair and shoulder and tugging his coat off. The older man had become dear to Mary, knowing what his duplicitous wife had done to her.
“Yer nay eating at me table without me, are ye?” Aaron’s voice boomed light with humor.
Leith stood and watched as his father took the two steps to the table. Aaron was getting better every day and that warmed his heart. He took his seat and surveyed the table with an all-seeing sweep. “Lairds Denwen and Robasdan, welcome, ye too, Lady Robasdan. Leith, MacCulloch sends word he won’t be here tonight but will be here in the next few days. What have I missed?”
“Young Lenichton’s marriage,” Tarrant said mischievously, “or the delay of it, rather.”
“I dinnae need a ring to mark me love as mine,” Leith put in with a liberal roll of his eyes.
“Why nae?” Lady Robasdan asked. “Ye men dinnae count the things that are precious to a woman. Have ye even asked her?”
“Well…nay in so many words,” Leith said. He looked around as Mary did and as she could see expectancy on their faces; she knew Leith saw it too. “What? Ye want me to do it now?”
“Wouldnae hurt,” Tarrant grinned.
Shaking his head. Leith turned to her and said, “Before the Almighty—”
“Lenichton,” Tarrant admonished. “Ye ken better than that.”
Huffing a curse, Leith slid out of his chair and went on one knee. He took Mary’s hand, “Before the Almighty and these troublesome, aggravating witnesses, I ask ye, Miss Mary Thompson, will ye have me for yer husband?”
Mary’s lips were tight as she held in her laughter, “Nothing in the world would make me happier,” she answered with a smile.
“Wonderful,” Leith stood and took his seat, “We’ll be wed tomorrow.”
A cry of outrage rose from those at the table but it was chased by laughter. “When we’re gone?” Tarrant scowled, “Shame on ye!”
Leith shrugged, “We can do it this evening.”
Now, Mary was the one aghast, “Leith!”
He reached over and held her hand. “Are ye worried about yer dress? Love, ye could wear rags and I’d still marry ye.”
A muffled snort had her looking at Tarrant and then to Theodor, both of the older men had bemused looks on their faces and even Leith’s father, Aaron, was shaking his head in dismay.
“Wonderful thing to say on yer wife’s wedding day,” Tarrant snorted. “Ye really are young.”
“And a fool,” Theodor added lightheartedly.
“All right, all right,” Leith said. “It’ll be the first day of Spring. Enough time to get all the particulars and transform this white barren land into somethin’ more fitting to a warm happy marriage. Agreed?”
Mary took his hand and traced her thumb of his knuckles, “Agreed.”
Spring had come quickly. The third day in the second week of April when the heather was blooming, the mild weather was balmy, and the countryside was a patchwork of blossoming wildflowers had come. The verdant fields were clothed with vivid reds, oranges, and golden yellows, all colors were as bright as Mary was…it was her wedding day.
Mary had sent the letter off to her parents the very next day after that dinner with Leith’s friends and that had been in late November. Five months later she had not heard from them. It pained her dearly, but she had to accept that they had deemed her as dead to them.
Lady Robasdan had volunteered to have the dress made and a month ago, she had sent up a beautiful green and ivory dress with silk slippers and a silken headdress. At first, Mary had been hesitant to even touch it as it felt too luxurious for her. Now, however, on the day of her nuptials, Rinalda was helping her in the dress when someone knocked at her door.
While she was tugging at her sleeves Rinalda went to answer it. Mary was fixing the neckline of her tight bodice and asked, “Rinalda, who is there?”
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