The Highlander Takes a Bride (24 page)

“I suppose,” Fenella murmured, and peered around the room. “This is quite a nice room, do ye no’ think?”

“Aye. ’Tis,” Saidh agreed slowly, suspecting she knew what was coming.

“Much nicer than me own,” Fenella pointed out. “Mine is ridiculous small, and the bed lumpy, and—”

“Ye can move here if ye like, Fenella,” Saidh said dryly.

“Truly?” she asked, a smile starting to pull at her lips.

“O’ course,” Saidh said patiently.

“Oh, thank ye,” Fenella gushed, hugging her quickly and then pulling back. “I do no’ sleep well in the room I’m in jest now. ’Tis no just that ’tis small either. I keep hearing sounds in the wall. I’m sure there are rats in there or something. Large ones too from the sound o’ it and I jest lay there worrying they’ll chew their way through to me room and—”

“Ye must be tired then,” Saidh said on inspiration and stood abruptly. “Why do ye no’ lie down and ha’e a little nap?”

“Here?” Fenella asked.

“Aye. ’Tis probably best Aulay and me husband do no’ find ye until I can talk to them. They still think ye’re behind the two attacks,” she pointed out.

“Oh, aye. ’Tis probably best I stay here then,” Fenella agreed, swinging her legs onto the bed and lying down. “I really am quite weary.”

“Then a nap is jest what ye need,” Saidh said firmly, pulling up the furs to cover her.

“Thank ye,” Fenella murmured as Saidh tucked the furs around her.

“Yer welcome,” Saidh said quietly and turned to head for the door, relieved to be able to escape.

“Yer supposed to be resting,” Dougall growled as she slid out of the bedchamber and pulled the door closed.

“Well I’m no’, am I?” she pointed out with irritation. “I need to talk to me husband.”

“He’s down below talking to Aulay and the rest o’ the boys,” Geordie informed her. “Fenella is missing and they are trying to sort out where she might—”

His voice died abruptly when Saidh turned away and headed for the stairs without waiting to hear the rest. She wasn’t at all surprised to hear the clump of both men’s feet on the stairs behind her as she descended. They were her guards after all, and she supposed she would have to get used to it, at least until this situation was cleared up. Saidh wouldn’t be trying to slip her guard again. She wouldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt on her account.

That didn’t mean she was happy about having a guard though. The very idea of it chafed at her nerves, actually having her brothers trailing her about like puppies was going to drive her mad, she was sure.

“Wife,” Greer said with surprise, getting to his feet when Saidh reached the trestle tables. “I’m sorry I did no’ return. But Fenella was no’ in her room when we went to speak to her. Her maid said she’d left the room intending to come below, but no one has seen—”

“I ken where Fenella is,” Saidh announced.

The men at the table all rose at this news, looking to her as if they would charge off and tackle the woman the moment they knew where to find her. Saidh scowled at them for it and sat down at the table.

“Where is she?” Greer asked, remaining standing.

Apparently he was as eager to hunt Fenella down as the others, Saidh thought wearily, but merely said, “I do no’ think she is behind the attacks on me.”

“She may no’ be,” Greer allowed. “But we need to speak to her to be sure.”

“I already spoke to her,” Saidh admitted.

“How the de’il did ye manage that?” Dougall asked. “Ye were in yer bedchamber the whole time and we were guarding the door. She did no’ pass us.”

“The passage,” Greer said grimly when Saidh hesitated. He then explained to her brothers, “There is a secret passage that leads to the bedchamber. O’ course, as Allen’s wife, she would ken about it and how to open it. She must ha’e used it to visit Saidh and then to leave.”

Saidh didn’t correct him, she simply said, “It does no’ matter how she got in. The fact is we talked and I ha’e me doubts that she had anything to do with what’s happened. But we both ken ’tis impossible to prove, so she’s agreed to a guard to stay with her day and night so that when the next attack happens, we’ll ken ’tis no’ her.”

Greer dropped onto the bench seat beside her, his expression troubled. “The next attack?”

“There has to be a way to find the culprit without waiting fer another attack,” Aulay said with a frown. “ ’Sides, what makes ye think ’tis no’ Fenella?”

“I asked her and she said she is no’,” Saidh said calmly, then grimaced and added, “o’ course, she could be lying, but . . .”

“But?” Greer prompted.

“I believe her,” she said helplessly.

“Ye can no’ ken this yet, Greer,” Aulay said quietly, “but Saidh generally has good instincts when it comes to judging people.”

Her husband let his breath out on a sigh. “If she is no’ our culprit, then we are back to sorting out who is.”

“M’laird, ha’e ye found her yet?”

Saidh glanced around to see Fenella’s lady’s maid standing behind them. Seeing the worry on her face, she said, “She is in the room next to the master bedchamber.”

“Oh.” The maid nodded and turned to hurry quickly up the stairs.

Saidh watched until she disappeared into the bedchamber, then turned back to the table as Greer said, “She may ha’e already used the passage to return to her own room.”

“Nay, I suggested it might be good fer me to talk to ye and Aulay ere ye encountered her. She’s taking a nap while she waits.”

Greer nodded, and then turned to the men at the table. “So . . . if it turns out Fenella is no’ the culprit, who else could it be?”

Dougall rumbled, “It would help if we had some idea o’ what Saidh may ha’e done o’ late to annoy someone.”

Saidh clucked with disgust. “Are we back to that then? I ha’e somehow annoyed someone so much they would kill me?”

“Aye,” Dougall said simply.

Saidh was scowling at him when a woman’s scream sounded from abovestairs. Recognizing the voice as Fenella’s maid, Saidh jumped up and charged for the stairs. She heard Greer shout her name over the thunder of himself and her brothers charging after her, but didn’t slow. Honestly, it sounded like a herd of stallions were chasing her up the steps, which just made her run faster.

She was nearly at the top of the stairs when the master bedchamber door crashed open and Rory rushed out. He reached her bedchamber first and rushed in just as Greer caught up to Saidh and tugged her behind him, entering the room first. Saidh only caught a glimpse of what waited in the room, before Greer turned and bundled her toward Dougall and Geordie, saying, “Take her to the master chamber and stay inside with her and Alpin.”

Saidh didn’t protest. She had seen enough.

Chapter 17

G
reer watched Dougall and Geordie lead Saidh to the master bedchamber next door and urge her inside. He waited until the door closed behind the trio before turning back into the room where Aulay and the remaining brothers stood by the bed. All but Alick, he saw. The youngest Buchanan had urged Fenella’s maid to a chair by the fire and was trying to soothe her.

Moving to join the men by the bed, Greer stared down at Fenella. Someone, the maid probably, had pulled back the furs and Fenella lay curled up on her side as if in sleep. But she wasn’t sleeping. Her face was as white as a spring bloom and the pale yellow gown she wore was blood soaked.

“Someone stabbed her in the neck,” Rory announced, straightening from examining Fenella.

“Well, I guess that means Saidh was right and we can discount Fenella as the culprit,” Aulay said dryly.

“Damn,” Niels breathed. “First they’re trying to kill Saidh and now they kill Fenella? Who is next?”

“That’s assuming they meant to kill Fenella,” Greer said grimly.

“What?” Niels asked with surprise.

“Her face is half buried in the pillow,” he pointed out.

“Aye,” Aulay agreed, and apparently seeing what Greer did, added, “And she has the Buchanan nose and hair.”

“Yer thinking she was mistaken fer Saidh,” Con-ran said slowly.

“Nay,” Niels protested. “Fenella’s a slip o’ a thing and Saidh is more muscular and sturdy. They would ha’e kenned it was no’ Saidh.”

Greer shook his head. “Not with the furs covering her.”

Aulay nodded, his expression solemn. “Under the furs, with just her hair and part o’ her face showing, she could easily be mistaken for Saidh.”

“Damn,” Niels said unhappily.

“Now that that is settled, I’d be most interested in how it was done.” Aulay turned to Greer. “My position at the trestle table in the great hall left me facing the stairs and upper landing. I had a clear view o’ the door to this room. No one entered or left after Saidh came out. In fact, there was no one up here at all except fer Fenella’s maid and she went nowhere near the door until Saidh told her this is where Fenella was.”

“Ye’re no’ thinking Saidh killed her?” Niels asked with dismay.

Aulay reached out and smacked the man in the back of the head.

“That would be a nay,” Rory said dryly.

“Aye, I gathered that,” Niels muttered, rubbing the back of his head.

Ignoring the pair of them, Aulay turned to Greer with one eyebrow raised. “Who kens about the passage in the wall besides ye and Saidh?”

Greer considered the matter. “I told Alpin about it, and Aunt Tilda probably kens, and then there is—”

“Probably?” Aulay interrupted. “Aunt Tilda
probably
kens? Is she no’ the one who showed ye the passage when ye got here to take yer place as laird? Or was that Fenella?”

“Nay.” Greer shook his head. “Aunt Tilda and Fenella were both too distraught to be o’ much use when I arrived. Bowie was the one who greeted me and gave me a tour o’ the castle. He showed it to me.”

“Bowie?” Aulay frowned. “Yer first?”

“Aye. He was Allen’s first ere he died, and is now mine,” Greer acknowledged.

“Why would a first ken about the secret passage?” Rory asked.

Greer glanced to the man with surprise. “Is that unusual?”

“Only family members ken how to find the passages at Buchanan,” Aulay informed him quietly.

Greer’s eyebrows rose at this news. He hadn’t known it was unusual. He’d just assumed that as the laird’s first and most trusted soldier he too would know about such things.

There was a brief silence and then Aulay asked, “How well do ye ken Bowie?”

“I only met him when I arrived at MacDonnell after Allen’s death,” he admitted, but then added, “Howbeit, he’s a hard worker and seems reliable. And I really see no reason fer him to wish Saidh ill. As far as I ken, they’ve ne’er e’en spoken to each other.”

“Hmm,” Aulay murmured thoughtfully, and then sighed and said, “Then mayhap this time Fenella was the target after all.”

“Now ye’re thinking we ha’e two killers?” Greer asked with disbelief. “One after Saidh and one after Fenella?”

“It makes as much sense as anything else,” Aulay pointed out with frustration. “Alpin was injured in one of the attempts on Saidh and could no’ ha’e killed Fenella. He was next door with Rory. Was he no’?” He turned to his brother as he asked question, and Rory nodded.

Aulay turned back to Greer and shrugged. “That leaves Lady MacDonnell and Bowie.”

“Aunt Tilda would no’ hurt Saidh,” Greer said firmly. “Why she has treated her like a daughter since the wedding, letting her wear her dress while we were wed, sitting up with her all night when she was injured.” He shook his head, unwilling to even consider that the sweet woman who had been so kind to Saidh might do something so horrible.

“Aye, but she thinks Fenella had something to do with her son’s death,” Aulay pointed out quietly. “She may ha’e kenned it was Fenella in the bed and killed her fer retribution hoping it would be blamed on whoever has been attacking Saidh.”

Greer ran a frustrated hand through his hair at the logic behind those words. He didn’t want to believe his aunt could be guilty of murder. But he was of the belief that anyone could take a life in the right circumstances, and Aunt Tilda did believe Fenella was behind the death of her only son.

“Bring her here,” Aulay suggested. “None but the maid, Saidh and the lads ken what’s happened, so no one could ha’e told her. Bring her here and see what her reaction is when she sees Fenella. She will probably give herself away if she did it.”

Greer eyed Aulay, wanting to refuse the suggestion and insist on leaving Aunt Tilda out of this. But, frankly, he was frustrated and exhausted from the constant worry over Saidh’s well-being, and who might wish to do her harm, and he was tired of the thoughts rabbiting around in his head as his mind tried to work out who could be behind the attacks. He was desperate to have this matter resolved.

“Fine. Bring her,” he said finally. “If nothing else, ’twill cross her off the list of suspects.”

Aulay merely glanced to Conran, who nodded and slid quickly from the room. The moment he was gone, Aulay ushered Rory, Niels and Alick to the bedside so that Fenella would not be immediately visible to anyone entering. Then Aulay joined Greer at the foot of the bed when he moved there. It was the best position to be out of the way and be able to see Lady MacDonnell’s face when the younger Buchanan brothers moved aside to reveal Fenella’s body.

They did not have long to wait before Conran ushered in Aunt Tilda.

“Ye wanted to see me, Gr—” she began, but her words died in her throat and she came to a staggering halt as Rory, Niels and Alick stepped away to reveal Fenella. For one moment, she stood frozen, confusion and then shock flickering across her face, and then all the blood seemed to leach from her complexion and she reached out toward Fenella as if to touch her though she was too far away to do so. In the next moment, she pulled that hand back and pressed it to her chest, choking out something incomprehensible before she simply slid to the floor in a dead faint.

At least Greer hoped it was a faint. It was quite possible, however, that they’d given the poor woman a heart attack, he thought with dismay as he stared blankly at her snow-white face.

“What the devil ha’e ye done!”

Greer snapped out of his shock to peer at Saidh as she rushed into the room with Dougall and Geordie on her heels. He was not the only one to begin to move again then. Rory now hurried toward Lady MacDonnell too.

“Ye’ve killed Aunt Tilda!” his wife accused, dropping to her knees beside the woman to pat her cheek gently. Even as she did, Rory knelt on the woman’s other side to examine her.

Greer scowled at the men, who were supposed to have kept Saidh safely in the master bedchamber, and received apologetic looks in response as Dougall and Geordie paused behind his wife. It seemed that, even awake, her brothers could not keep Saidh where she did not want to be.

“She’s alive,” Rory said soothingly to Saidh. “She just fainted.”

“Are ye sure?” Saidh asked anxiously. “I saw her fall, she was grabbing at her heart.”

Rory lowered his head to Aunt Tilda’s chest and listened briefly. He straightened a moment later, looking less certain. “We’d best get her to her bed.”

“She’ll want her maid, Helen,” Saidh said fretfully, getting up as Rory scooped up Aunt Tilda and stood. “She’s trained in healing too. She tends to Aunt Tilda’s ailments.”

“Alick?” Rory said over his shoulder as he headed for the door with Saidh trailing him and Dougall and Geordie following her.

“I’ll fetch her,” Alick assured him.

Greer watched silently as the small troupe left, hoping that Saidh would glance back or say something to him. She didn’t, however, and he was left standing there feeling like an utter horse’s arse for having put Aunt Tilda through that. If the woman died, he would never forgive himself, but worse than that, he suspected Saidh wouldn’t either. She might not even forgive him if Aunt Tilda lived.

“Lady MacDonnell was no’ faking her shock,” Aulay sounded disappointed as he pointed out the obvious.

“Nay,” Greer agreed dryly.

“Hmmm.” Aulay sighed. “I guess we should talk to Bowie now then.”

“Really, I’m fine, dear. I was just a little overset by seeing Fenella like that,” Aunt Tilda murmured, hands fluttering weakly as Saidh finished fussing with the furs she’d pulled over her.

Greer’s aunt had woken up as Rory carried her into her bedchamber. She’d at first been confused as to why she was being carried about, and then quiet, but now seemed embarrassed by all the fuss.

Sitting on the edge of the bed next to her, Saidh took her hand and peered at her worriedly. Lady MacDonnell had regained a little color, but was still quite pale and her hand was trembling a bit in hers.

“Are ye sure ye feel all right?” Saidh asked, squeezing her hand gently. “Ye grabbed yer chest when ye fell. How is it now?”

“I am fine,” Aunt Tilda assured her on a little sigh. “More embarrassed at fainting as I did than anything, to tell the truth.” Grimacing, she added, “Ye’d think I’d ha’e been happy to see Fenella that way after everything that’s happened. ’Twas just the shock. I just . . .” She shook her head wearily.

“Greer should no’ ha’e surprised ye like that,” Saidh said grimly, squeezing her hand again.

“I’m sure he thought Conran would tell me what had happened when he came to find me,” Aunt Tilda said quietly, defending the man. She then defended Conran as well, saying, “And Conran probably thought it was no’ his place. ’Twas jest an unfortunate set o’ circumstances.”

Saidh didn’t comment to that. She suspected Greer had known exactly what he was doing bringing Aunt Tilda in to see Fenella without warning her first, although she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he’d felt he had to do it. Or perhaps she could, Saidh acknowledged. She was sure there were few people who knew about the secret passages. It was probably only supposed to be family as it was at Buchanan. Obviously that wasn’t the case, though. Someone outside the family had to know, because she hadn’t killed Fenella, and neither could Greer and Alpin have done it. That had left only Aunt Tilda for Greer to consider. Saidh hoped this episode had cleared the woman of suspicion in his mind.

“Oh, Helen,” Aunt Tilda breathed in relief as the woman rushed into the room.

“M’lady,” the maid said with dismay, hurrying to her side. “What happened? Are ye all right?”

“She had a shock and fainted,” Rory explained quietly.

“Aye, but I’m fine now,” Aunt Tilda said firmly, struggling to sit up. “And I should get up. We need to tend to Fenella.”

Helen straightened with surprise, eyes wide. “Lady Fenella? Is she ill?”

“She’s dead,” Aunt Tilda announced bluntly as she heaved herself upright. “And we’ll need to see to her body.”

“Ye’re in no shape to tend to anything jest now,” Saidh said firmly, urging her to lie back down. “Ye should rest. I shall worry about Fenella.”

“But—” Aunt Tilda began, only to heave a sigh and settle back against her pillows. “Aye. Mayhap I should. I
am
weary.” Distress crossing her features, she added fretfully, “Though I do no’ ken how I’ll sleep after seeing Fenella like that.”

“I’ll fix ye a tincture to help ye sleep,” Helen said at once and bustled over to a chest that sat on a table against the wall. Opening it, she began to retrieve various weeds and medicinals.

“Oh dear,” Aunt Tilda breathed, drawing Saidh’s attention back in time to see the woman grimace with distaste and mutter, “A tincture . . . vile things.”

Saidh smiled sympathetically at her expression. “If it helps ye sleep, ’twill be worth the unpleasant taste.”

“I suppose.” Aunt Tilda sighed, and then patted her fingers. “Helen has me in hand. There is no need fer ye to stay with me.” She frowned and added, “Yer looking a bit peaked yerself, dear. Mayhap Helen should make a tincture fer you, as well. I really do no’ think ye should be up running about like this. Ye’re still recovering from that arrow.”

“I am fine,” Saidh assured her, but it was a lie. She felt as if she’d run halfway across Scotland. In truth, she didn’t know how she’d run up the stairs when Fenella’s maid had screamed. Just going down them had wearied her. She supposed that scream and then seeing Fenella’s body had raised her blood, giving her a temporary boost. But that boost was fading now, leaving her feeling weak and a little shaky.

“She’s right. Ye’ve lost all yer color,” Rory said quietly, concern on his face. “Ye should be abed too. Besides, I’m sure Lady MacDonnell can no’ like her bedchamber being invaded by so many men.”

“Oh, aye,” Saidh said with realization. She was used to having her brothers around, but supposed it would be unsettling for the poor woman to have the men in her bedchamber. Forcing a smile for Aunt Tilda, Saidh got shakily to her feet saying, “I’ll take me brothers away and leave ye to rest.”

“Verra well then,” Aunt Tilda murmured, then glanced to the men and said, “Make sure she rests. She does no’ look well at all.”