"I'll just set this over the chair and fetch yer basin o' water. I left it in the hall," the maid said happily, moving to the chairs by the fire to lay the gown over one. Hurrying toward the door then, she added, "I ha'e much to tell ye while ye tend yer ablutions. So much has happened."
Joan's mouth tightened. She already knew one of those happenings. Did the whole castle know that her husband had already tired of her and moved on to Finola?
"Lady Finola is dead," Jinny announced as she returned with the water.
Joan stiffened and then turned slowly. "What?"
"Aye," Jinny said almost breathlessly as she set the basin on the table by the fire. "She was found at the bottom o' the stairs this morning. She tumbled down them and broke her neck. And the nasty cow did it in yer dress!" Jinny announced with outrage. "Can ye imagine? Lady Annabel said she and yer husband removed the dress from ye because Kenna came asking fer it. One o' the ladies approached her saying the others were going to hem it fer ye ere ye woke. It turns out, Lady Finola was the one who told Lady Kenna that tale. The other ladies said there was no such plan. That they were all too worried about ye and the other lasses to think o' hemming anything. Well, since Lady Finola was wearing it when she died, 'tis obvious she lied so she could steal the gown right off yer back!"
Jinny scowled ferociously at the cheek of the woman, and then said, "Now I'm thinking her falling down the stairs was God striking her down fer stealing it. Aye." She nodded firmly. "God smote her for her sins."
"When did Lady Finola fall?" Joan asked, her mind churning up all sorts of nonsense.
Jinny shrugged. "She was cold as stone and stiff when they found her this morning, so some time in the night."
"And no one witnessed it?" Joan asked reluctantly.
"Nay. At least no one's come forward to say so," Jinny said with unconcern, moving up beside her to hold out soap and a scrap of linen to her.
"Thank you," Joan whispered and moved to the basin of water to begin to wash.
"M'lady?"
"Hmm?" Joan asked absently, dipping the linen in the water.
"Should I no' take the bed linen?" Jinny asked. "It might get wet do ye no' take it off."
"Oh, aye." Joan unwrapped the linen she'd worn since waking and handed it over to the maid, then turned back to frown into the water as she began to lather the soap. The scent of lime and herbs drifted up to her as she worked. It was a scent she loved, but she hardly noticed. Lady Finola had fallen down the stairs? And no one had witnessed it? The last time she'd seen Lady Finola the woman had been kissing her husband . . . by the stairs, that she'd then apparently fallen down . . . without anyone, not even he, witnessing it.
She shook her head slowly. Something was terribly wrong. More than one thing actually, Joan thought as she recalled all Jinny had said. The woman had blurted it out so quickly and then she'd been more interested in the news about Finola, but now . . .
Turning to where Jinny was making the bed, she asked, "You said the women were too worried about myself and the other ladies to think of hemming my gown?"
"Aye," Jinny said absently and then glanced up to peer at her wide eyed. "Oh, o' course, ye do no' ken about the other ladies. Ye were the first to take ill, and had already fainted ere the other women did."
"Fainted?" Joan asked with a frown. She had no idea what the woman was talking about. She recalled going in to try on the gown, and she remembered them asking her to remain in it so they could pin. Cider and pastries were fetched, she had some cider and then . . . well, actually her memory got a bit fuzzy after that.
"Aye. Ye had a bad batch o' cider and it made five o' ye ill," Jinny explained, concern on her expression. "Do ye no' recall?"
"Nay," Joan admitted on a sigh, but that explained the headache she'd woken up with. Fortunately, it had dissipated on its own in the time since she'd woken up.
Jinny frowned at this news, then glanced to the door when a knock sounded. Straightening from the bed, she moved over to open it and then curtsied and stepped quickly to the side to allow Lady Annabel to enter.
"Oh, you are awake," her aunt looked amazed, and then glanced to the empty bed and scowled with displeasure. "Where is Cam? Why did he not let me know when you woke up? He promised he would. In fact, when I came up here I assumed he was still here watching over you. Where is he?"
"I don't know," Joan admitted quietly, turning back to the basin of water to quickly finish her ablutions so she could dress. Her aunt had seen her naked several times now, but that didn't mean she was comfortable with it.
"You do not know?" Annabel asked with surprise and then frowned. "Was he not here when you woke up?"
Joan shook her head, but didn't say that her husband had been away for the last half of the night.
"That is odd. He was most concerned about you. He and I sat with you for hours and then he
sent me away. He did not even eat the evening meal."
Joan didn't comment, but this news simply added to her confusion. He'd been concerned? Sat with her for hours and then gone out and kissed Finola? Well, to be fair, she supposed Finola had kissed him, but . . . now Finola was dead and he had never returned to their room. Where the devil was he? And had he had anything to do with Finola's fall down the stairs?
She rolled her eyes at her own thoughts. First, she spent hours thinking he was off philandering with Finola, and then she worried that he killed the woman. Joan was so confused.
"I told her about the bad batch o' cider, but she does no' recall getting ill herself," Jinny said suddenly, concern obvious in her voice.
"Do you not?" Lady Annabel asked, and while she didn't exactly sound concerned, Joan could hear a frown in her voice.
"Nay," Joan admitted and dropped the linen in the bowl, then turned to pick up her dress. Jinny immediately rushed to her side to help her don it.
"If ye'll sit in the chair, m'lady, I'll fix yer hair," Jinny said, moving to get the brush once she'd finished tying her stays for her.
"I shall do it, Jinny. I would like to talk to Joan anyway," Lady Annabel said quietly and suggested, "Why do you not go break your fast?"
Jinny hesitated, her gaze sliding to Joan.
" 'Tis all right. Go ahead," Joan said with a nod.
Jinny handed the brush to Lady Annabel and slipped from the room.
"Sit," Lady Annabel said lightly, gesturing to the chairs by the fire.
Joan settled in one of the chairs and stared at the long cold ashes in the hearth.
"It was not a bad batch of cider," Annabel announced as she began to run the brush through Joan's hair. "The servants were just told that to prevent gossip."
Joan raised her eyebrows. "What was it then?"
"I'm not sure, but it was something in your goblet alone," her aunt admitted.
"Mine?" Joan asked with surprise. "Then how did the other girls . . ." She let the question die as she recalled offering the goblet to Murine.