Page 26 of The Highlander’s Auctioned Bride
CHAPTER 26
Maisie woke to the pattering of rain.
She deduced, from the weak sunshine out of her window, that it must be early morning. She pulled herself to a sitting position, realizing she had slept through the night.
She put a hand over her stomach, feeling the slimy texture of the gauze. She pulled it away from her, grimacing at the stains across the fabric. Her stomach smelled pleasantly of honey, but she was desperate for a bath.
As though hearing her thoughts, the door opened, and Jean was admitted by Harris, who was on guard duty again.
“Have ye had any sleep?” Maisie asked Harris as he bowed to her. Jean looked back at him with the same concern in her gaze.
“I will sleep when the laird sleeps, me lady.” Harris said and she had never heard his voice so stern. He closed the door behind him as Jean hurried to the bed. She placed a cool hand on Maisie’s forehead and poured some more water for her.
“How are ye feelin’, m’lady?”
“Better,” she muttered as she pulled herself to her feet. “I need a wash. I am covered in some kind of liniment that is very sticky.”
Jean nodded, and tears were in her eyes as she went about her business. A knock on the door admitted a servant with a jug of steaming water, and Jean set about helping Maisie cleanse her skin.
Maisie huffed a gentle laugh at Jean’s face. “Jean, I am all right. Truly.”
Jean wiped at her eyes. “When he told me what had happened, I couldnae believe it. Someone in the castle ? I willnae feel safe until he is caught, m’lady, that’s the truth of the matter. I cannae believe ye were poisoned. It makes me sick to think of it.”
Maisie stroked her arm and Jean impulsively put her arms around Maisie’s shoulders and hugged her before stepping back.
“Sorry, m’lady, but ye have been so kind to me, and I dinnae want anythin’ to happen to ye.”
“Nothin’ will happen to me, we will find the person responsible.”
Jean returned to her task and Maisie tried her best to make her voice sound casual as she gave her next request.
“I should like to go and visit Miss Lillian this morning if that can be arranged. I wasnae allowed to eat anything all night, but I think we could probably have some tea together at least. I would like to see her. She is a good friend.”
The lie tripped off her tongue easily, and Jean seemed surprised to hear it, but she nodded.
“Are ye sure ye’re strong enough, m’lady?”
“I suppose I could ask Harris to carry me,” she mused. She couldn’t help but chuckle at Jean’s immediate frown. “I take it he hasnae made his intentions to ye clear yet?”
Jean sighed. “I stayed up all night when ye were injured and brought him tea and I thought he might after that. But nae. Nothin’,”.
Maisie made a vow to herself that once all the madness was over, she would get these two sweet people together if it was her last act.
“I should dress,” she said quickly and pushed herself to her feet. She felt a wave of dizziness, but her stomach was quiet and settled. She was glad now that her abstinence from wine her entire life had saved her life. She would never drink another drop as long as she lived.
Harris was adamant that he should accompany Maisie to Lillian’s chambers, but Maisie was able to persuade him that if Jean came with her, she would be safe enough within the castle walls. She knew that Harris’s presence would only alarm Lillian, and that was the last thing she wished to do.
Jean left Maisie at the end of the corridor leading to the Guthrie’s suite of rooms. They had been residents in the castle for many years, and Maisie knew that Lillian was a frequent visitor. Marcus Guthrie had practically raised her, as her father was out on business so much of the year.
In another life I believe we could have been good friends, she thought sadly.
She knocked on the door, and after a short pause, it was opened by none other than Lillian. Maisie hadn’t been sure whether Mrs. Guthrie would be attending her, but she was alone.
Maisie entered the rooms, looking about her with interest. It was a strange combination of the Guthrie’s taste and the MacLennan clan colors.
It was a cheerful space, and Maisie took it all in before focusing on Lilian. She was alarmed to see that the girl’s eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot again.
“I heard about what happened to ye, m’lady,” Lillian said, and Maisie noted she did not call her by her first name today.
Lillian did not offer her condolences or apology. She looked as though she were standing in the path of a cannonball, waiting for it to hit.
“Is everythin’ all right, Lillian? Ye seem upset.”
“Och,” Lillian said. “I am just so devastated at what might have befallen ye,” she said, her eyes flitting rapidly about the room.
Daenae charge this girl with keepin’ a secret, Maisie mused. She’d spill it the instant she took a breath. She was not a good liar.
“Shall we sit?” Lillian asked, and Maisie took up position opposite her on a rather bulky settee that bunched under her thigh in just the wrong place, causing the cut to throb.
Lillian did not offer her any refreshments. The girl was beyond agitated, tapping her foot. When she stopped tapping, a moment later she began to drum her fingers.
Maisie waited. She knew she had the right person in her sights, she just had to give Lillian enough time to reveal herself.
They sat for less than a minute before Lillian rose, wringing her hands in front of her and tears gushing from her eyes.
“I told him nae to dae this!” she wailed. “I told him it was folly, but he wouldnae listen. I dinnae want James that way. I told him that he had picked ye and that if he doesnae want me I dinnae wish to force him, but he wouldnae listen!”
Maisie watched her cry. It was such neat, pretty crying. Lillian’s perfect skin was unblemished, sparking tears falling over her cheeks and from her eyes like crystal droplets.
“Who, Lillian?” Maisie asked, knowing full well who she referred to.
Lillian deflated. “Me uncle.”
Maisie felt a thrill of triumph. She had known Marcus was somehow involved, but she was amazed he would have been so bold and so cruel so soon.
“I begged him to stop this,” Lillian sniffed, sitting back down, her hands coiling and uncoiling in her lap. “I told him that it wouldnae make any difference. I would ne’er have wanted ye to be hurt, me lady.”
She sniffed, wiping at her eyes.
“Me uncle has always wished for our family to be better connected. Me faither is nae always reliable with his fortunes and we have fallen on hard times. He always felt that if I could marry Ja—Laird MacLennan, we would be set for life. Nae more worries and an irrefutable status when our bairns were born.”
Maisie watched her fingers linking and unlinking in her lap, but a tendril of doubt was unfurling in her mind.
Why is she tellin’ me all this so easily? Surely, she kens James will kill her uncle for exposing him.
“He was mad, I think. I believe he has lost his senses and is doin’ all he can to get ye out of the way so that I can take yer place.”
She looked up at Maisie, those wide and beautiful eyes baleful and sad.
“I need to show ye somethin’,” Lillian whispered, and she rose, smoothing down her dress and waiting for Maisie to struggle to her feet.
Once again, Maisie felt like a visitor in her own castle looking at the lady of the house. Maisie would never have Lillian’s grace and poise.
She dutifully followed Lillian out of the room and down the corridor a little way. The rain was falling heavily outside, and the smell of cut grass wafted through the window behind them as they made their way to her uncles’ rooms.
Lillian looked up the corridor, as though to check that no one observed them. It was almost as if she knew there would be no one there. Maisie stiffened as she watched her open the door, wondering if this might be a trap. The door swung open, but on the other side was merely a small but neatly appointed bedchamber.
Marcus was clearly meticulous with his rooms. There was not a hair out of place. Dark emerald woolen blankets lay over the bed emblazoned with a leaping stag.
Lillian walked into the room, waiting for Maisie to cross the threshold before closing the door behind them.
As the door closed, Lillian crossed the room to the bedside table and opened the top drawer. It revealed some papers and a small bible that Marcus kept beside the bed.
Lillian dug about in the back of the drawer and drew forth a small vial of liquid.
Maisie frowned at it as Lillian held it up.
“I found it this morning. With everything that has been happening recently, I had suspected that me uncle might be to blame.”
Are those her words? She sounds like she is quoting from a script.
“I decided that it would be prudent to look through his things, and this is what I found.”
She gave a half smile. It was the strangest expression Maisie had ever seen. She was exposing her uncle, a man who had raised her—effectively sentencing him to death—and yet she seemed almost relieved. She looked like a child who’d recited her verses just right in the kirk, and was waiting for her reward.
Maisie kept her frown in place and approached her, examining the vial, which Lillian handed to her without delay.
“I am sorry, Lillian,” Maisie said gently. “That must have been a terrible shock.”
“It’s the poison that was in yer wine. It must be. Why else would it be here?”
Maisie decided her best course of action would be to play along until she could confide in James.
“Aye, ye have done well,” the girl preened as though she had solved a difficult mathematics problem with a tutor. “I shall go to the laird immediately. Wait for my word.”
Lillian breathed out heavily. It was a sigh of relief. The tendril of doubt in Maisie’s mind bloomed into full uncertainty.
Maisie left her, limping along the corridor with the vial pressed in her palm.
I have to find James, immediately!