"Thank ye," Edith breathed, swallowing when he brushed her hair away from her neck. When he then bent to nuzzle her there, she bit her lip to stifle a soft gasp, and found herself leaning back into him. Niels let his arms drift around her then, to cross under her breasts, and Edith clasped them lightly, her head tilting as he nibbled at her ear. When he lifted one hand to catch her chin and turn her face up and back to his, Edith went willingly, even eagerly, and closed her eyes as his lips covered hers. His tongue slid out to nudge its way between her lips, and she opened with surprise and then stilled as his tongue swept in. Edith met the invasion with a moan as a cacophony of sensation burst to life inside her. She was vaguely aware of his hand drifting down her throat and then her chest, but didn't really pay attention until it stopped to cover one breast and squeezed lightly.
Edith gasped into his mouth as her body responded, her back arching instinctively to push her breast more fully into the caress as his other hand suddenly rose to claim the other one. She had no idea she was pushing back into him with her bottom until she felt the hardness that met her, and then one of his hands slid inside the neckline of her gown to touch her without the cloth between them and Edith cried out into his mouth as he began to pluck at the already hard nipple.
Edith was so distracted by that she definitely didn't notice his other hand leaving her breast to drift downward until he cupped her between the legs through the cloth and almost lifted her off her feet. This was nothing like it had been when she'd been poking at herself earlier out of curiosity. Even with the cloth between them, this aroused an unbearable excitement in her that she'd never dreamed possible. And it made her want more. The problem was, she wasn't quite sure what more she wanted. But her body seemed to have ideas of its own and was shifting against his hands, writhing into first one caress and then the other in search of something she didn't quite understand, and then a high-pitched scream made them both freeze.
In the next moment, Niels was breaking their kiss to mutter, "Ronson," and then his lovely hands were leaving her and he was gone. For one moment, Edith simply stood there, her brain slow to put everything together, and then she turned and peered around the empty clearing. Even Niels was gone.
Confused, Edith took one staggering step away from Niels's horse, and then steadied herself before continuing in the general direction she'd thought Ronson's scream had come from. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she pushed her way into the underbrush in search of both males. The scream they'd heard had been panicked, even terrified, she thought as her brain began to function again and one urgency was traded for another as she began to worry about the boy.
"Are ye all right, lad? What--? Dear God."
Edith heard Niels's words just as she pushed through more bushes and nearly trampled both Niels and Ronson before catching herself. Ronson stood frozen with Laddie at his side, while Niels knelt examining something on the ground in front of the boy.
"It's Lonnie," Ronson said, sounding scared, and Edith glanced over his shoulder to see a man lying facedown in the dirt, an arrow protruding from his back.
"Who's Lonnie?" Niels asked, glancing back at Ronson and pausing briefly when he spotted Edith.
"One o' the soldiers at Drummond," Edith answered for the boy. "He usually stands guard on the wall."
"Aye, he does. But he left with the laird when he and Lady Victoria left the castle," Ronson told them.
"Did he?" Edith asked with a frown, peering down at the man. Lonnie's face was turned their way, his mouth open, his eyes too, and she had to look away. The man had obviously been dead awhile. He was unrecognizable to her.
"Aye. He does no' look like Lonnie, but I saw Magda give him that kerchief when he left. She said 'twas to remember her by," Ronson said.
Edith glanced back to see the bit of cloth the boy spoke of tied around Lonnie's arm.
"Come." Niels stood abruptly and began to usher them back through the woods to the clearing. "I'll return ye both to the castle and then bring back men and a wagon to get Lonnie."
"We can no' just leave him here. Maybe we should take him with us," Edith said with concern.
"Lass, we've only the one horse. Besides, he's been out here for a good week at least. A few more minutes will no' make much difference," Niels said grimly.
"Aye," Edith murmured as they reached the clearing and crossed to the horse. This time, Niels mounted, lifted her into his lap and then lifted Ronson into hers. She was sure it made it harder for him to handle the reins, but Niels didn't complain, and she was glad she could hold the boy. He was shivering slightly after his discovery. She closed her arms around him and leaned silently against Niels's chest for the return journey to the keep.
"Well?"
Edith glanced up from the food she was mostly pushing around her trencher at that question from Niels, and saw Rory joining them at the table.
"Well," Rory said, "it looks like he died from the arrow wound."
"And the other injuries?"
Edith's eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn't noticed any other injuries, but then she'd only got two quick looks at the man and had focused mainly on his face the first time and the kerchief the second.
"Animals," Rory said quietly. "After he died."
Edith grimaced and set down the silver goblet of mead she'd been about to drink from.
"Can ye tell how long he's been dead?" Niels asked after a pause.
Rory shook his head. "A week at least, but it could be more. I can no' tell."
"Poor bastard," Tormod said grimly. "His horse, weapons and boots were gone, so I'm guessing it was bandits. Must ha'e caught him on his way back to the keep. We've had trouble with them in the area before."
"Aye," Edith agreed, and then frowned. "But Ronson said Lonnie left with Brodie and Victoria. Why was he returning alone?"
Tormod's mouth tightened with anger. "Yer brother probably sent him back to see if it was safe to return. Or mayhap, after setting out it occurred to him that he should have someone who could ride out and let him ken it was safe to return so sent the lad back to be his eyes and ears here."
It seemed the most likely answer so Edith merely nodded unhappily and absently turned the silver goblet of mead in a circle, her gaze on the liquid inside as she wondered what they should do now. They had no way to let Brodie know what had happened to Lonnie. They didn't even know where he had taken Victoria. It could be court, or the castle of one of his friends. While Brodie was spoiled and selfish, he could also be extremely charming when he chose and had made many friends among the younger lairds. Before marrying Victoria he'd often spent his time visiting one after the other, hunting here, hawking there and just drinking, gambling or wenching at another. They could be anywhere.
Sighing, she sat up straight and glanced to the three men at the table with her. "We have to devise a plan to sort out who the poisoner was so that Brodie can return and I can leave."
"Leave?" Tormod asked with a frown.
Edith eyed him solemnly. "He'll send me away to the Abbey the minute he gets back, Tormod. I know that and so do you."
"Aye," Tormod growled unhappily. Bowing his head he added in a mutter, "I just did no' think ye'd give in and go to the Abbey so easily."
"I do no' plan to," she assured him and managed a smile when his head came back up and he eyed her questioningly. "I can no' make him let me stay here," she said gently and saw the disappointment in his face. "But I may be able to avoid spending the rest o' me days in the Abbey. I may even manage to marry some kindly old laird who would be willing to take in anyone Victoria convinces Brodie to be rid of."
"That'd be something at least," Tormod said with a frown.
"Aye. But I'd have to leave before Brodie returns to avoid the Abbey. I'll stay as long as I can, but when we ken he's returning, I'll have to go to MacDonnell."
"MacDonnell?" Rory asked with interest.
"I asked Saidh if I might visit. That was in the letter yer brothers took with them. My hope is that Saidh an
d perhaps Murine and Jo can meet up with me there and help me sort out what to do. One o' them may ken a kindly old laird looking fer a wife. I have a healthy dower, so 'tis no' as if I'm penniless."
"I see," Rory murmured and glanced to Niels, but then asked, "So ye're determined to marry a laird?"
Edith smiled faintly. "Nay. I'd be happy with a cottage and half a dozen bairns. But time is me enemy. If I marry, me full dower goes with me. If Brodie sends me to the Abbey, he could probably get away with giving them half my dower or less. Finding an old laird, or even a young one in need o' coin seems more likely than anyone falling in love with me in the time I have," Edith said quietly, avoiding looking at Niels. She could still taste his kiss, and feel his hands on her body, but she wasn't foolish enough to think that meant he would suddenly offer her marriage and save her from her fate.
She wished it did. Edith would like to experience more of those kisses and caresses, and she doubted very much if she'd be lucky enough that she was attracted to whatever desperate laird she could get to marry her. But Edith had always been pragmatic about such things.
"So . . ." Tormod glanced at each of them in turn. "How do we sort out who the poisoner is?"
Silence reigned for a moment and then Rory said, "I'm no' sure. We are no' even sure how the old laird and his two older sons were fed the poison."