"They were no competition," Garia snapped with disgust, pausing at the bedside. "Saidh is so rough ye'd be forgiven for thinking her a man, and Edith likes to think she's smart, but she's dull as dirty water. As for Murine, she could no' keep from fainting long enough to hold a conversation with the man. And they were the best o' the bunch!" She shook her head. "Nay. If no' fer you, he'd probably have proposed to me already and then I could have laughed in me mother's face. She did no' think I could win him," she added bitterly. "Well, I shall show her when ye're dead and we're wed."
"Did you push Finola down the stairs?" Joan asked, trying to change the subject to something less volatile and buy more time.
"Aye. The cow threw herself at Cam. There ye were, lying in yer sickbed and she was throwing herself at him like some tavern wench," she said with outrage. "She had to be punished." Pausing, she frowned and asked, "How did ye ken she was pushed and did no' fall?"
"You took her candleholder," Joan said quietly, easing a little more to the side away from her.
"Oh. Aye. 'Tis in me room. I shall have to put it back in hers after this," Garia decided.
"Is that when you took the hatpin from her?" Joan asked, glancing swiftly to the side and wondering if her goblet was sturdy enough to do any damage if she hit her with it.
"Aye. 'Tis a shame, that. I really liked the hatpin, but it seemed better if the pin used was someone else's, and using hers would reassure anyone who might be getting suspicious that the danger had passed. Which is what I thought happened," she added and then frowned. "I hadn't thought of the candleholder." Shrugging, she turned her full attention to Joan again. "Ye do realize ye're no' going to be able to get out o' the bed ere I stab ye?"
"Mayhap," Joan allowed. "But I can try."
Garia smiled faintly. "I really do like yer spirit, Joan. 'Tis just a shame ye never learned yer place and that ye should stay in it."
The words were barely out of her mouth before she suddenly stabbed out at her with the shears.
Rather than try to flee the bed and be stabbed in the back, Joan grabbed the bolster she'd been leaning against and brought it up to block the shears. Much to her relief, it worked and while the feather bolster suffered a messy death with feathers flying everywhere, she was unscathed.
Joan made an attempt to flee the bed then, only to have Garia grab her by the hair and drag her back. She landed on her back in the bed, saw Garia shake the bolster off the end of the shears and plunge them toward her again, and quickly grabbed her wrist with both hands. She also began to scream her head off. A sound that ended in a grunt when Garia suddenly climbed onto the bed and knelt on her chest, forcing the air out of her lungs in one painful gush.
"Ye're just making this harder on yerself, Joan," Garia ground out, trying to force the shears down toward her chest.
Joan would have told her to go to hell, but didn't have the air in her lungs to say it. Besides, all her strength was presently being sapped by trying to keep the shears out of her chest. She was failing miserably at the effort, the lack of air weakening her, and Joan was sure she was about to die when Garia suddenly collapsed onto her with a startled grunt.
Eyes wide, Joan retrieved the shears from Garia's now lax hands and then pushed her head out of the way to look past her.
"Murine," she said with surprise when she saw the woman standing there with a log from the fireplace in her hands. Jinny had prepared for a fire in case the ladies wanted one, but it was warm enough they hadn't bothered. Still, the logs had come in handy, Joan thought vaguely.
"I'm sorry," Murine said quietly, drawing her gaze again.
Joan glanced to her with surprise. "For what? You saved my life."
"Aye, but it took me so long," she said unhappily and explained, "I woke from me faint a while ago. I didn't drink the mead she dosed. I was too busy trying to cut a straight line. And then when I woke up, it took me a minute to orient meself and try to move, and before I could, I heard what she was saying, what both o' ye were saying and I was so scared. I was trying to look around fer a weapon without drawing her attention to the fact that I was awake, and--"
"Murine," Joan interrupted gently, brushing Garia's hair impatiently out of her face. "You did good. You saved me. You saved Saidh too. Garia was going to kill her as well and claim Saidh had killed me. So you saved us both."
"Oh," Murine said with surprise. "I did, didn't I?"
"Aye," Joan assured her and when the other woman let her arms drop and let the log slip to the floor, said worriedly, "Please don't faint. 'Tis hard to breathe with Garia on me and I think I need help removing her."
"Oh," Murine rushed forward at that, reaching for Garia's arm, but froze and glanced over her shoulder as the door burst open.
" 'Twas not Murine," Joan shouted quickly when Cam charged toward them with his father and her uncle on his heels.
"We ken," her father-in-law assured her as Cam hurried past Murine. The man then frowned and rushed to his wife to check on her, even as her uncle moved to Annabel.
"How did you know Garia was the one?" Joan asked with a frown as her husband dragged the woman off of her.
"She was seen picking apple cores out o' the garden and she walked the stable boy to the keep," Cam said grimly, letting Garia drop to the floor so that he could look Joan over. "Are ye hurt? Did she hurt ye?"
"Nay," Joan assured him, and then smiling, added, "Murine saved me."
He glanced around with surprise at Murine and Joan smiled at the woman, then said solemnly, "Thank you Murine."
"Oh . . ." She flushed and waved her thanks away, then promptly fainted.
"There's something wrong with the lass," Cam said with a frown.
"Aye," Joan agreed, slipping off the bed to check on her. "But I think between Aunt Annabel and myself we can sort it out and help her."
She stilled as Garia moaned behind her, and then turned to peer warily at the woman. When she remained unconscious, Joan scowled and told him, "She admitted to killing Finola and putting the hatpin in the saddle."
"Did she say what she gave the women?" her uncle asked grimly, drawing her gaze to where he still stood bent over Aunt Annabel, trying to rouse her.
"A sleeping draft," Joan said quietly. "They will sleep for a while, but should be okay."
"Thank God," Artair Sinclair muttered, straightening from Cam's mother. Scowling at Garia, he asked, "Did she say what she did to the stable boy?"
"The stable boy?" Joan asked with confusion.
"He's missing," Cam explained quietly. "He was last seen walking our horses to the keep steps. Garia was with him."
"Oh dear," Joan said on a sigh and shook her head. "Nay, she said naught about a stable boy."
"We'll find out when she wakes up," Ross said grimly and then glanced around the room at the unconscious women. "We'd best put everyone in their rooms until the effects of whatever she gave them pass."
"What'll we do with the MacCormick lass?" Laird Sinclair asked.
"I'll take her below and put a guard on her," Cam decided, bending to pick up the woman now. "I'll find some men to come help with the other ladies too," he added, heading for the door. He paused there though, and glanced back to Joan to say, "I'll be right back."
Joan nodded solemnly and watched him go. Her uncle and father-in-law were right behind him, their wives in their arms and Joan suspected she wouldn't see them again until the women woke up. They both looked terribly worried and distressed that their wives had been drugged. It did her heart good to see that. She hoped Cam loved her well enough that twenty years from now he would still care that much about her.
"Joan."
She glanced around at that whisper, and stood quickly to move to Saidh. The woman was still slumped in her chair, her eyes only half open, but she hadn't completely lost consciousness.
Joan dropped to her haunches beside her and took her hand as she offered her a smile. " 'Tis all right. 'Tis just a sleeping tincture. You'll sleep for a bit, but that's all."
"Sorry," Saidh whispered and Joan shook her head with confusion.
"For what?"
"Could no' help ye," Saidh muttered wearily.
"Oh," Joan patted her hand. " 'Tis all right. Murine saved the day for both of us."
"Aye." She could not tell if the expression that flickered across Saidh's face then was more surprise or respect for the other woman.
"Rest," Joan suggested. "We'll talk when you wake up."
Saidh's eyes drooped the rest of the way closed and Joan straightened with a sigh, then glanced to the door as Cam returned with several men behind him. He moved directly to her, collecting a fur from the bed on the way to wrap around her, and then held it there as the men silently moved to the sleeping women.
"Garia woke as I carried her below," Cam announced suddenly as they watched the men pick up the women.
Joan glanced to him in question. "Did she say anything about the missing stable boy?"
"Aye. She told us where to find the body," he said grimly.
Joan sighed at this news and shook her head. "Did she say anything else?"