Anne firmly tucked the comforter around Niall. “There,” she scolded, “now stay abed! Though yer wound looks well, something has weakened ye.”
He captured her hand before she could move away. “Why not climb in here with me? It’d do much to keep me abed.”
She shook her head at the suggestive gleam in his eyes. “Och, and aren’t ye the one who insisted on my never being alone with ye?”
“I’ve had a change of heart.”
“Well, I haven’t, Niall Campbell.”
“Ye’re a hard-hearted lass, Anne MacGregor.” Niall laughed.
“I’ll be happy to be well again, so we’ll have no further need of a chaperone.”
“Rather, I think the need for a chaperone increases with each passing day, my love.” She leaned over to give him a tender kiss.
A hot light flared in Niall’s eyes. “Mayhap ye’re right. One way or another, though, ye’re in no danger from me at present. It’s a hard thing when yer gut feels sick like mine does. I fear I’ve no appetite for aught, food or otherwise.”
Anne touched his forehead with the back of her hand. She frowned. “Strange, but ye have no fever.”
“It’s spoiled food, as I said before. There isn’t always fever with that.”
“Mayhap.”
Niall smiled at the doubt in Anne’s voice. “There’s naught to be done but endure. And I’d prefer to endure it in silence, rather than tell the physician. Murdoch would only make things worse.”
Anne grinned. “Aye, that he would.” Her expression grew solemn. “There’s something we never finished in the garden.”
“Caitlin?”
She nodded. “Would ye accept my assistance? This might be better dealt with woman to woman.”
“Yer help would be greatly appreciated, lass. I can’t seem to influence my sister anymore. She used to hang on my every word, scurry to do my every bidding. But no more.” He shook his head, confusion in his eyes. “Truly, I don’t know what to think or how to approach her.”
“She’s a young woman now. Though she loves ye still, other men will soon claim the special place that before she filled with a sisterly love. And she’s proud, as proud as ye. Ye must begin to treat her as the woman she is.”
“But Caitlin’s barely fourteen!”
“Och, Niall,” Anne chided gently. “And how many lasses are wed by that age? She’s all but grown up.”
“Mayhap,” he admitted, his gaze lowering in frowning consideration, “but I can’t say I like it. She was less a problem as a child.”
“Grown women tend to be more of a challenge—to grown men.”
He glanced up, subjecting her to an amused scrutiny. “Och, and well I know that, lass. Ye’ve been a handful since the first moment I saw ye.”
“As well I will be to our dying days, m’lord.”
A low chuckle rumbled in Niall’s chest. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
Their eyes met, and something hot and sweet flowed between them. Anne felt vibrantly alive. Niall’s gaze, as it slid down her body, ignited a melting warmth that set her afire. She swallowed hard, knowing she must get away from him before she was overcome with desire.
“By yer leave,” she murmured, freeing her hand from his firm clasp, “I’d like to visit yer sister. She must be worried.”
Niall’s expression darkened. “She needs to stew a bit. The lass defied me, not to mention risked a scandal because of her behavior. I meant what I said before. She won’t marry Rory MacArthur. I don’t like the lad.”
“Well, ye all but banished him from Kilchurn. There should be little problem where he’s concerned for a time. Ye must speak with her when ye’re feeling better—as one adult to another. Ye might be surprised to find she’ll then respond to ye as an adult.”
“Mayhap. But I’ve still a mind to send her to Edinburgh. I threaten her with it constantly of late, then back down. She’s most likely laughing at me for my weakness in that.”
“Ye must do what’s fair, no matter the opinions of others. Yer compassion for yer sister shouldn’t be viewed as a weakness. She’s confused and lost right now, bewildered by her budding emotions and physical needs, hurting still from the loss of her father. Ye’ve been more than patient with me, who’s defied ye far more than Caitlin has ever done. Can’t ye spare the same patience for her?”
Niall sighed. “Go to her, Anne. Talk with her. I’ll defer to yer judgment in her punishment, but punishment of some kind she must have. Agreed?”
“Agreed.”
Reluctantly, she rose from the bed and left the room. As Anne walked through the long stone corridor to Caitlin’s room, she considered and discarded several ways to approach the girl. A niggling worry ate at the confidence she had shown Niall just minutes before.
What if Caitlin refused to talk with her or, worse yet, ridiculed the guidance she’d try to offer? Niall’s anger, when he learned of it, would be more terrible than before.
Well, Anne thought as she raised her fist to knock upon Caitlin’s door, there’s naught to be done for it. All she could do was try. In the end, it was all for Niall.
A young serving maid answered the door.
“Jane, isn’t it?” Anne asked. “Is yer mistress in?”
Jane bobbed a little curtsey. “Aye, ma’am. But she says she isn’t receiving—”
“Who is it, Jane?” a tear-choked voice came from behind her.
The maid swung back the door to reveal Anne. Caitlin stared at her, a myriad of emotions playing across her expressive face. Then she sighed. “Bid her come in. And ye may leave, Jane.”
“Aye, mistress.” The girl slipped past Anne and closed the door behind her.
Squaring her shoulders, Anne walked to where Caitlin sat on a padded bench by the window. She gestured toward the seat. “May I sit with ye?”
The girl’s glance moved to gaze out the stone-cut window. “Aye,” she murmured dejectedly. “Do what ye wish.”
Anne settled herself beside Niall’s sister. For several minutes neither spoke, Caitlin staring out the window, Anne studying her. Finally, the girl wiped her tears away. Turquoise eyes proudly met Anne’s.
“I thank ye for yer efforts on my behalf in the garden. At first, I was confused as to what was happening between ye and my brother. But later, when I’d a time to ponder it all, I realized ye deliberately picked a fight with him to divert his anger from me. That was a kind thing to do.”
Anne remained silent.
“Thinking back,” the girl continued, “ye’ve never once been less than kind, turning aside all my rudeness with gentle words and offers of friendship. I’ve been a stupid, selfish child.”
“From the beginning, there was something gnawing at ye,” Anne said. “Something that affected yer acceptance of me. What was it, Caitlin?”
Niall’s sister’s eyes widened in surprise. “It was so evident, was it? Well, it was but a foolish dream, but I’ll tell ye nonetheless. Rory’s older sister, Sybil, was greatly desirous of a marriage to Niall. Rory promised it’d assure our eventual marriage, if our two clans joined in such a manner. I had hopes Niall might well consider Sybil, once his time of mourning was done. Then ye came to Kilchurn.”
“It’s only a handfasting, Caitlin. A trial marriage that could well end in a year.”
Niall’s sister smiled. “I saw how my brother looked at ye, even from the start. I knew there was no hope for Sybil after that. And even ye must now realize he loves ye.”
Anne flushed. “I know he cares for me, but he’s made no offers of marriage. Truly, I don’t know how this handfasting will end.”
“Well, I do,” Caitlin said. “And I think I’ll like having ye as a sister.”
A lump rose in Anne’s throat. “Will ye now? Then we can be friends?”
The girl took Anne’s hand and gave it an affectionate squeeze. “Aye, if ye’ll still have me.” She paused to give a small, self-mocking laugh. “And if my brother doesn’t yet banish me to Aunt Mathilda.”
Anne smiled. “I think he can be made to see reason. He loves ye, Caitlin. He’s just sore beset of late. Be patient with him.”
“I-I’ll try.” The girl’s eyes filled anew with tears. “But I love Rory, and now Niall has sent him away, mayhap forever. Och, Anne, what shall I do?”
“Be patient with Niall and with yerself. If it’s true love between ye and Rory, it won’t die. Even Niall will come to see that. He finds Rory too young to be a fit husband. But time may well alter that impression as well.”
“But I’ll wither on the vine, waiting that long!” Caitlin wailed.
“It seems so, when ye’re but fourteen, but a woman must learn patience. It’s a trait sorely in need when dealing with men, even the man ye love. Yer time of waiting won’t be squandered if ye spend it learning patience. And the eventual reward will be all the sweeter because of it.”
Admiration flared in Caitlin’s eyes. “Och, ye’re so wise. Would that I be, in the few years left until I reach yer age.”
Anne laughed, warmed by the girl’s compliment. “Ye’ll be wiser by far, and no mistake.”
“Aye, if ye teach me some of yer healing skills, that I will. As lady of Rory’s house, I’ll need to know how to aid his people.”
Anne’s expression grew serious. “Mayhap in time, but not now. It’d be too dangerous.”
Understanding lit in Caitlin’s eyes. “Aye, that I know. But in time . . .”
“Aye.” Anne smiled. “In time.”
Niall felt no better upon Anne’s return, but listening to her account of her visit with Caitlin filled him with pleasure. He clasped her hand, raising it to his lips to kiss it tenderly.
“Ye see, lass?” he said in a husky voice. “We will prevail. Even now, ye’ve yet another ally in Kilchurn. One by one we’ll wear them all down, show them the error of their ways.”
“Aye, my love. That we will,” she whispered, and watched as he lay back upon his pillow and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
Niall refused the evening meal, stating he had no appetite. Only with Anne’s persistent coaxing did he finally take some stew. Then, despite her protestations that it wasn’t proper, he insisted she stay near him.
“I don’t care how it looks to Agnes,” he growled in irritation. “I don’t feel well, and yer presence gives me comfort.”
There was nothing she could do or say after that, for Anne would never deny Niall in his time of need. She pulled up a chair beside his bed, took a seat, and began to play her harp for him. After a while, he dozed off once again.
Late in the night, Niall’s agitated movements woke Anne. He mumbled in his sleep, tossing and turning until Anne was forced to take him into her arms to calm him. Concern for Niall’s strange illness grew with each passing minute. Gradually, she became aware of his heart, thudding beneath her hand. It seemed slow, unnaturally so.
She lowered her ear to his chest. The heartbeat was indeed slower than usual.
The first tendril of real fear coiled in her stomach. This was no food poisoning or silent infection. Niall was drugged—and it was most likely the work of her stolen foxglove. She slipped away from him, gently pulling the comforter up to cover him. With pounding heart, she sat on the edge of the bed and struggled to think clearly, to devise a plan. Niall had become sick in the past three days, since he was wounded and brought to his bedchamber. He could’ve ingested the potent leaves in either food or drink—or in medicine!
Could the castle’s physician be poisoning Niall? Anne leaped to her feet to pace the room. She knew the little man had made Niall drink a tonic every day, supposedly to strengthen him and aid in his healing. Could that have contained the foxglove? But if so, why? What would’ve been the man’s motives? Surely he wasn’t the traitor.
Nay, he couldn’t be the traitor, Anne told herself, but he might well be working for the traitor. But how was she to fight him, forbidden as she was to interfere with the man’s treatment of Niall? Well, she couldn’t . . . but Ena could.
Anne slipped from Niall’s bedchamber and into her own. From there she left. The keep was silent and deserted. None saw her sneak down to the storerooms, where she easily found the hidden tunnel leading to the secret passage from the castle.
A half hour later, she was beating on Ena’s door. Finally, the old woman peered out. “What is it?” she croaked, her voice thick with sleep. “Is it a birthing, or someone—” She stopped, recognizing Anne. “Lass, what are ye about? It’s the middle of the night!”
“Let me in, Ena.”
The old healer quickly complied. “Well, lassie,” she said once the door was shut behind them, “what is it? Is aught wrong with the young lord?”
“Aye, Ena. I fear ye left too soon. Niall’s deathly ill.”
“The wound festers?”
“Nay, it’s more serious than that. Someone has fed him my foxglove.”
“It’s worse than I feared,” Ena muttered. “The young lord . . .”
“Help me, I beg of ye!” Desperation threaded Anne’s voice. “His heart has slowed. He’s sick, has no appetite, and is terribly weak. He may die!”
Ena took Anne’s hand. “Aye, that he well may if the source of the drug isn’t halted. If he takes even one more dose . . .”
“I need ye to stop the physician from feeding him any more of his foul concoctions. He may be the one poisoning him.”
“Nay, it isn’t possible.” Ena firmly shook her head. “I’ve known Murdoch for years. He’d never intentionally harm a body.”
“Then who, Ena? Please come back with me. Help me discover the source. Help me stop them!”
The old woman nodded. “Aye, lass. I’ll come back. Give me but a moment to gather my herbs. Though naught but time will ease the effects of the fairy fingers, I’ve some potions that might help strengthen the young lord in his battle against it.”
“Thank ye, Ena.” Anne breathed the words in a rush of gratitude. “Thank ye with all my heart.”
Ena smiled. “We healers must help each other.”
The journey back to the castle was slower by necessity, Ena’s arthritic limbs stiff in the dampness before dawn. They took the secret tunnel into the castle and were soon back in Niall’s room. After a quick but thorough examination, Ena glanced up at Anne.
“It’s indeed the work of the fairy fingers,” she said grimly. “Bring me a cup and some water. I’ll make him a red clover tea. It’s the best of blood cleansers and an excellent tonic.”
She pulled an old pot from her bag and filled it with the water Anne provided. A short time later, the simmering water was poured over the dried clover leaves to steep.
Finally, Ena motioned toward Niall. “Rouse him as best ye can and lift him. We must try to pour as much of this as possible down his throat.”
Anne slipped behind Niall to prop him up. She gently shook him. “Niall? Niall, my love? It’s time to wake. Ena’s here. She has a tea for ye to drink.”
He groaned and mumbled something incoherent, then tried to snuggle into her and go back to sleep. Anne shook him harder, her voice rising. “Wake up, I say. It’s past time a lazy knave like ye were up and about.” She grasped his jaw with one hand and squeezed painfully.
His lids fluttered open then, a confused, startled look in his eyes. “Lazy knave ye s-say?” He glanced around, noting the still-dark windows. “Why, it isn’t even dawn. Ye’re a heartless lass, Anne MacGregor.”
Ena shoved the cup to his lips. “Here, m’lord. Drink this. It’ll strengthen ye.”
Niall drank deeply. Then, with an exhausted sigh, he fell back against Anne. The door to his bedchamber slammed open. Ena turned, the cup still in her hand.
In the doorway stood Duncan with Malcolm and several armed clansmen close behind. A scowl of rage twisted the tanist’s face. “So,” he snarled, “ye sneak back here in the dark of night to wreak yer witch’s magic on our chief.”
Duncan strode into the room, waving the others in behind him.
“Seize the old woman. Ye’re all witness to the fact she gave the Campbell some witch’s potion.”
“Nay,” Anne cried, clinging tightly to Niall. “It was only clover tea, a tonic to strengthen Niall. He’s so sick, can’t ye see? Someone has poisoned him.”
“Aye, poisoned him.” Malcolm grabbed Anne by the arm. “And mayhap ye’re as guilty as old Ena.”
“It isn’t Anne’s fault,” Ena was quick to intervene. “The Campbell instructed her to obey me in my healing of him. Ye all know that. She’s innocent of wrongdoing.”
Dark eyes, shaded by bushy brows, glared down at her. “She’s a witch as much as ye. And soon enough ye’ll both burn!”
“Enough, Malcolm!” Duncan snapped. “The truth will soon come out in Ena’s confession.” He motioned to the armed clansmen. “Take the old woman to the dungeon. We’ll see to her later.”
“Nay!” Anne screamed. She slid from beneath Niall and flung herself at the guards. Duncan pulled her away, capturing her arms to pin them at her sides.
“It isn’t wise to align yerself with Ena,” he whispered. “She’s doomed. Malcolm will soon see to that.”
“And why should ye suddenly care what happens to me?” she demanded. “Ye’ve been against me from the start. Why not throw me in the dungeon along with Ena?”
A cold smile touched his lips. “What need have I to condemn ye when others will soon do it for me? My hands will be clean no matter what happens. As well I should, I’ll remain above all the tumult.”
She stared up at him, struck speechless by the sheer malevolence of Duncan’s reasoning. He, above everyone else, would come out as the man of pure motives, forced by law to condemn her and see her burn. And burn she would, while Niall lay helpless and near death. Anne knew they’d eventually extract the confession they wanted from Ena. No one could withstand the tortures for long, and Ena was a weak old woman.
Anne glared defiantly up at him. “We’ll see how long ye remain above the rabble ye so slyly stir. Niall will yet recover, and when he does—”
“Och, I only pray that it’s so, lady. No one wants for our chief to live more than me.” Duncan smiled. “But if he doesn’t, I’m tanist and must rule as I see fit. And no witch responsible for his death will live.”
“Take her away,” he ordered the guards holding Ena. He released Anne only after Ena was led away. “And ye, lady, are refused further entrance to this room. I won’t have ye attempting to finish what Ena has begun.”
Anne stepped back from him. Incredulity widened her eyes.
“Ye cannot—”
Duncan arched a graying brow. “Am I not Niall’s chosen successor, named before all? And, as ye see, he’s now incapacitated. In all but name, I’m the Campbell.” He motioned over Agnes, who had heard the noise and had entered Niall’s room. “Take yer mistress to her bedchamber and keep her there. If she dares step again into this chamber, it’s the dungeon for her.”
Agnes hurried to Anne, grasping her by the hand. “Come, m’lady. Come with me.”
Tears stung Anne’s eyes as her glance moved to Niall, pale and silent in his bed. He was helpless now, at the mercy of others—and someone meant to see him dead. He needed her, and she was now denied access to him. But who’d protect him, if not her?
“Come, m’lady,” Agnes pleaded, hysteria now in her voice. “It isn’t the time to defy them. Please, please, come with me.”
She was right, Anne thought. It wasn’t the time to defy or fight them. But the time would come. She wasn’t beaten yet.
Anne exhaled an acquiescent breath. “Aye, Agnes. It’ll be as ye ask. I must obey our tanist.”
But only for a time, she silently added as she followed the old maidservant from the room. The battle isn’t over; it’s only begun. At last the enemy, whoever he be, has shown his hand.
Agnes ushered Caitlin into Anne’s bedchamber and shut the door. The girl hurried to the window seat. Anne motioned for her to sit beside her.
“We must keep our voices low,” she hastened to explain. “There may be spies. If we talk quietly, we’re far enough from my doors that none should hear. And what I speak of must be known to none or it might cost Niall his life.”
“Tell me what ye want of me,” Caitlin whispered, a determined light burning in her eyes. “I won’t let my brother die.”
Anne took the girl’s hand. “Someone poisons Niall with a drug stolen from my storage chest. There’s no antidote. Only time will clear the drug from his body. In the meanwhile, we must make sure he is given no more.”
“And how will we do that?”
“Ye must watch the preparation of his meals, bring them up yerself, and feed him. Ye mustn’t allow the physician to give him any medicines. And ye must stay with Niall as much as possible, sleep in his room. Trade off with Agnes when ye must, but don’t ever leave him alone. It’s the only way to protect him.”
Caitlin’s smooth brow wrinkled in a frown. “But who am I to watch? Who’s trying to poison my brother?”
Anne sighed. “I’m not certain. Mayhap old Murdoch, mayhap Malcolm or Duncan.”
“Nay, not Uncle Duncan!” Caitlin exclaimed in horror. “Nay, it could never be him. He loves Niall and me like a father.”
Anne shot her a wry glance and continued on. “Or mayhap a man outside the castle, manipulating someone within to do his bidding, even one of the servants, mayhap. I don’t know, Caitlin. It’s the most frightening part of all. I don’t know whom to trust, whom to suspect.” She shook her head in despair. “And I’m helpless, save to ask others to do my bidding. Niall needs me, yet I cannot go to him. Help me, Caitlin,” Anne cried, her voice breaking. “If ye don’t, I don’t know what I’ll do!”
“Fear not, sister. I won’t fail ye or my brother.”
Anne marveled at Caitlin’s sudden surge of strength and maturity. Och, but it was so good to have another to bear a bit of the burden, to help where she wasn’t allowed to go.
She lifted her head. “Ye mustn’t reveal our plan to anyone. And that includes Duncan. If the traitor guesses, he’ll find a way to stop ye. We must get Niall strong enough to know his own mind again. Then he’ll have the power to refuse to eat or drink what isn’t safe. Do ye understand?”
Caitlin nodded. “Aye, I understand.”
Anne gave the girl a gentle push. “Then go and see to yer brother. And, Caitlin,” she added, as the girl rose to leave.
“Aye?”
“When Niall rouses enough to understand, will ye tell him I’m near, that I love him?”
Caitlin smiled. “Aye, Anne. I’ll say it over and over, for it’ll give my brother the will to live.”
“My thanks.” Anne turned back to gaze out the window, her hands clenched, knuckle-white, in her lap.
“I couldn’t see her, m’lady,” Agnes admitted regretfully late the next day. “I’m sorry.”
Anne sighed. “Do ye know if they’ve yet begun the torture? Och, if only Niall recovers before they begin! Then he can save Ena.”
Agnes averted her gaze, apparently finding sudden interest in putting away some fresh linens Anne had been folding. “The guard wouldn’t say.”
“Look at me, Agnes,” her mistress commanded, knowing there was more here than her maid cared to reveal. “Tell me true. Have they tortured Ena?”
A look of misery in her eyes, the old woman nodded. “Aye, m’lady.”
“How does she fare?” Anne asked through a suddenly constricted throat.
“She hasn’t confessed, but the guard says it won’t be long now.”
“Och, no!” Anne breathed. “What am I to do? Duncan won’t allow me down there to see her and refuses to stop that madman preacher. They’ll kill her!”
“It’d be a blessing. If she died before they could extract a confession . . .”
Anne’s eyes widened in horror. “How can ye say such a thing? Ena’s but a kind old woman. She has never harmed a soul!”
“Aye, m’lady. That I well know. But if she confesses and names ye witch, Malcolm will turn on ye like a blood-crazed hound. Ye’ll be tried and burnt before the Campbell has a chance to recover.”
“He grows a little better with each passing hour. Ye and Caitlin do yer job well.”
“But he still falls in and out of a deep sleep,” Agnes stated grimly. “He’s confused and weak as a newborn kit. And it won’t be much longer before Ena breaks.”
“Then we must seek help!” With resolute strides, Anne walked to her small writing desk and pulled out parchment and quill. She scribbled a quick note then sealed it. Anne motioned her maidservant over. “Find some man whom ye can trust to deliver this. It must reach Iain Campbell at Balloch Castle, and quickly. If the man hurries, Iain can be here in two days’ time, mayhap less.”
Agnes dubiously accepted the missive. “Will he come, m’lady? There’s no love lost of late between him and the Campbell.”
“I know that, Agnes. He may not come for Niall, but he’ll come for me.”
“And isn’t that a dangerous game ye play? What if the Campbell mistakes yer motives?”
“That’s a chance I’ll take,” Anne replied. “I’m desperate and must call whatever friends I have to my aid. If Niall turns from me because of that, there’s naught I can do. He said he trusted me. The time has come to put that trust to the test.” She smiled sadly. “Now go, Agnes. Find yer man and send him on his way. In the meanwhile, I must go to Duncan and buy time for us all.”
Agnes’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What do ye mean to do?”
“I won’t let Ena suffer a moment more for me. I pulled her into this tangled web when I asked her help in healing Niall. It’s time I took responsibility for it all.”
“What are ye going to tell Duncan?”
“That I asked for Ena’s help, and she only did what I asked. It’s the only way to save her.”
“Nay, m’lady! Ye’ll condemn yerself on the spot. They’ll burn ye, and no mistake.”
Anne swallowed a panicked sob. “Aye, that I know. More reason to send for Iain forthwith. We’ve little time to spare.”