Saidh accepted the goblet and took a swallow, her eyes widening and mouth puckering with distaste. "Ew, nay, this is more bitter than I like. It tastes like . . ." She shook her head. " 'Tis off or something."
"Do no' be a ninny, Saidh," Edith said with a faint smile. "It came from the same pitcher as the rest o' ours did and mine was fine. It can no' be so bad."
"Nay? Then try it," Saidh challenged, holding out the goblet.
Shrugging, Edith took it and swallowed some, wincing as she lowered the goblet. "My apologies. 'Tis bad."
"Oh, heaven's, let me see," Garia said, sitting back on her heels and reaching for the drink. When Edith handed it over, she too took a drink, her face immediately twisting with displeasure. "Oh, aye, 'tis bad. But my drink did no' taste like this." She glanced toward the pitcher and shook her head, before handing back the goblet to Edith. Turning back to continue her work, she suggested, "Mayhap there was something in the bottom of the goblet ere we poured the cider in."
"Mayhap," Saidh agreed and then tilted her head and asked, "Are ye feeling fine Joan?"
"Hmm?" Joan glanced to her, slow to comprehend what she was asking.
"Are ye feeling okay?" she asked. "Ye're rubbin' yer stomach."
"Am I?" she asked faintly, peering down to see she was indeed rubbing her stomach. Why was she doing that? Joan wondered, and then realized that it was aching. No, not aching exactly, she decided. That was the wrong word. It was . . . she felt like she was going to heave up everything she'd consumed. What had she consumed? Oh, aye, she'd only had a bit of cider--
"Joan, if ye want a straight hemline, ye must stop moving and--" Garia paused as she glanced up at her. Concern crowding her expression, she straightened slowly. "Joan?"
Joan opened her mouth to assure her that she was fine, but before she could get the words out, darkness seemed to fall over her.
Chapter 13
"WHAT?" CAM ASKED WITH DISBELIEF, but didn't wait for the answer. Instead, he pushed past his brother to hurry up the keep steps, desperate to get inside and see Joan. "Where is she?"
"Yer room," Aiden said, following hard on his heels. " 'Tis all right, Cam. Lady Annabel said she'll be fine. They all will."
"They all?" Cam echoed with confusion as he threw open the keep doors and rushed inside. "Who all?"
"Several o' the ladies fell ill at the same time," Aiden explained, moving up to his side as they hurried across the great hall. " 'Twas no' just Joan, Ladies Carmichael, MacCormick--"
"I do no' ken who is who, Aiden," Cam interrupted with a frown. He hadn't bothered to get to know the prospective brides his mother had collected. He had a wife. Not that he would have been interested anyway. "How many o' them are ill?"
"Three I think," Aiden answered, then frowned and said, "Nay, four." He seemed to count them out on his fingers as they started upstairs, and then nodded. "Aye, four. And Joan makes five, o' course."
Joan was the only one that mattered as far as Cam was concerned. He was sorry the others were ill, of course. But they were nothing to him. Joan was his main priority. She was his wife and he had already begun planning a long future with her. It was what he'd been doing with his father all day. They'd ridden out to Inverderry, a castle along the coast and the smallest of the three castles belonging to the Sinclairs. A chatelaine had been running it for years now, but when his father had taken him there today, Cam had expected to be told that he and Joan were to move there and take it over. Instead, his father had announced that he was ready to slow down and carry less responsibility, and so was Cam's mother. His parents planned to move to Inverderry castle and leave him the responsibility of the main castle, while Douglas would tend to Dunlorna, the second largest of the three castles. Aiden would eventually get Inverderry, while their sister Aileen would inherit the Lansend House as her dower, though she would continue to live with their parents until she married.
All the way back from Inverderry, Cam's mind had raced with plans for himself and Joan as Laird and Lady of Sinclair Castle. So it had come as something of a shock to arrive to learn Joan had been struck down by illness. She'd seemed healthy and well the last time he'd seen her, and had certainly sounded hale enough while caterwauling away at her lessons.
"What made them ill?" Cam asked with a scowl as they stepped off the stairs and started along the landing.
"I'm no' sure," Aiden admitted apologetically. "They just started dropping. Lady Annabel is tending them."
Nodding, Cam pushed through the door to his chamber and came to a halt. Joan lay asleep on the furs on the bed, her face appearing almost colorless above the deep red gown she wore. Annella sat on the side of the bed with her and glanced to him when he entered.
"Oh, Cam!" Annella stood, and offered an anxious smile. "Thank goodness ye're here."
"How is she?" Cam asked, moving to the bedside.
"Mother says she will be all right, but she has no' woken yet and three o' the other girls ha'e," Annella said worriedly.
"Four of the other girls," Annabel said quietly as she entered the room. "Joan is the only one who is still asleep."
"But she will wake, will she no'?" Cam said with a frown, settling on the side of the bed to peer at her pale face.
"I believe so. But I think she drank more than the others," Annabel said with a frown. "Not enough to seriously harm her, though, I think."
"Drank what?" Cam asked, turning to peer questioningly at the woman.
"Cider," Annabel answered, moving up to the bed to peer over his shoulder at Joan. "They were hemming the gown she is wearing. I had a servant take up some pastries and cider and Joan complained hers tasted bitter. The other girls who fell ill tried it too. Joan may have had more than the others though. Murine thought she saw her drink from it twice, while the other girls only had one drink each."
"Do ye ken what was in the cider?" Cam asked.
"Her goblet was knocked over when the girls all began to faint and the other girls sent for a servant to clean it up. There was nothing left by the time I realized it was the only thing they'd all had and went looking for it," Annabel said on a sigh and shook her head. "But I think she will be fine too."
"But ye do no' ken for sure?" Cam asked.
"Nay," Annabel admitted unhappily, concern creasing her face as her gaze shifted to Joan. "I wish I knew what was in her cider."
"It was only in her goblet?" Cam asked with a frown.
"Apparently," Lady MacKay said with a shrug. "At least hers was the only one that tasted bitter according to the girls. But they all drank from the same pitcher."
"So it was no' in the pitcher, but her goblet specifically?" Cam murmured, turning his gaze back to Joan.
"Aye," Annabel said heavily. "I had come to that conclusion myself."
Cam's mouth tightened and then he asked, "How many girls left today?"
"As your mother hoped, the Sutherlands, MacLeods and Frasers received her messages yesterday and came for their daughters today. They stayed for the nooning meal and then all left early this afternoon."
"Lady Sinclair was going to give us each one o' their rooms, but Mother said nay," Annella told him, bringing Cam's head around with alarm.
"I thought it was only fair that your brothers get their rooms back, so I had her put my daughters and I together in one chamber until another is available for the girls to share," Lady MacKay said soothingly. "Our things have already been moved to the room Lady Fraser was using and yours have been returned up here. So at least you can stay here with Joan now."
"Thank ye," Cam said on a relieved sigh and turned to peer at his wife, thinking that his brothers would be glad to get out of the barracks as well. He was certainly happy to know he would be able to stay here with Joan. At least he would be, were he certain she would recover from whatever it was she and the other girls had drank.
"Mother?"
Cam glanced past the woman to the door she'd left open. Kenna stood there, uncertainty and worry on her face as she peered at Joan.