Niels turned to him with surprise. "I thought we'd decided the first dose must ha'e been in the wine because Edith did no' drink it."
"Aye, but surely Brodie and Victoria would ha'e had the wine that night," he pointed out, and then turned to Tormod and Edith and asked, "Did they not?"
"I'm no' sure," Tormod said with a frown. "That was weeks ago now and so much has happened." He now looked to Edith. "Do ye recall?"
Biting her lip, she sat back in her seat, trying to remember the night in question. As he'd said, it had been three and a half weeks ago now. And she'd been sick for much of that time. Finally, she said, "I think that might ha'e been the night they fought over Victoria's dower."
"Her dower?" Niels asked curiously.
Sighing, Edith nodded. "Apparently, Brodie assumed that once he'd married her, Victoria's father would hand over her dower."
"But he did no'?" Rory asked.
Edith shook her head. "Nay. He sent her maids and some dresses to Drummond, but the dower had to be given up to the man she'd been contracted to marry. It was in the contract. If she refused to marry him for any reason, he got the dower anyway." She grimaced. "The maids arrived that morning with the message and Brodie and Victoria were arguing about it all day."
"Aye. That's right," Tormod said dryly. "He ripped up the message and threw it at her, accusing her o' tricking him into marrying her with promises o' her huge dower, and she--" He paused and grinned. "I thought she'd brain him with a pitcher o' ale she was so furious at that accusation. 'I tricked you?' says she with disbelief. 'I was the one who was tricked, my laird.'" He shook his head. "She was fair furious. They both were. So much so they did no' care who heard them. They started here in the great hall, and then he followed her to the kitchen when she tried to escape him there, and then up to their room." He shook his head. "The maids were so busy listening ye could no' get a lick o' work out o' them that day."
"Nay," Edith agreed wryly. "Anyway, they ended up in their room, hollering half the night until I sent a maid to tell them to shut up, that Father was deathly ill." She sighed. "I did no' ken that our brothers were too yet. They had retired early, probably because they were feeling unwell, but I did no' ken they were sick too until the morning when I went to tell them each that Father had passed."
"So Victoria and Brodie did no' drink the wine at table that night," Rory said thoughtfully.
"And they were in the kitchens at some point," Niels pointed out.
"But they were no' here when I fell ill the second time and that was from the stew no' the wine," Edith reminded them firmly.
"But they left that day," Niels pointed out. "They must ha'e somehow poisoned the stew ere leaving. Brodie is the only one who benefited from the deaths of yer father and brothers."
"They left that morning," Edith said patiently. "Moibeal felt ill in the night, but no one kenned until I woke up and found her on her mat in my room, clutching her stomach and delirious. Brodie feared an outbreak, panicked and packed up Victoria and left right away. They could no' have poisoned my serving o' stew later that day at sup. They were long gone. And the stew itself was no' poisoned else everyone in the castle would be dead," she said with exasperation.
"Mayhap Victoria had Effie put some o' the tonic in yer stew that night ere it was brought up to ye, and the poison was in the tonic," Rory suggested.
"Effie would hardly then take the poison herself," Edith pointed out.
"Nay, but mayhap Effie did no' ken 'twas poison," Rory said reasonably. "Yer brother may no' even ken what his wife was up to. It may ha'e been Victoria alone. Perhaps she was determined to be the Lady o' Drummond as yer brother had promised and was willing to murder to achieve it."
Edith nodded slowly. That actually seemed possible. She certainly liked it better than the suggestion that Brodie might be behind the deaths. Which meant they had a problem. "Then there is nothing we can do," she pointed out. "There is no way to prove Victoria poisoned the wine or the stew . . . unless ye can say unequivocally that the tonic had poison in it," she said and raised an eyebrow in question.
Rory shook his head regretfully. "Nay. There are so many herbs in the tonic, it would be impossible to sort out what poison had been used, or if it was in it."
"Then unless Effie wakes up to say she put it in me stew, and drank or ate it herself that last day, Victoria will get away with murder," she pointed out wearily.
"How is Effie doing?" Tormod asked abruptly.
"No change," Rory said, and then frowned and added, "No change at all in fact, and I would expect there to be. But she seems exactly as she was when we first got here. No stronger but no weaker."
"Aye, well, ye're dribbling broth down her throat all the time," Niels pointed out. "No doubt that's helping prevent her weakening further."
"Hmm," Rory muttered and then merely shook his head and stood. "Speaking o' which, I suppose 'tis time I went up to do that again."
"Now?" Tormod asked with surprise. "But what about our coming up with a plan to catch the poisoner?"
"Have ye got a plan?" Rory asked with interest, and when Tormod grimaced, he said, "I'm afraid Edith is right. There's really no way to prove Victoria did it. At least nothing any of us has come up with yet. I suggest we all think about it tonight and then meet again tomorrow morn and see if anyone has ideas."
"Agreed," Edith said.
When Tormod grunted unhappy agreement, Rory nodded and turned to leave the table.
Edith glanced to Niels then, but found him looking toward the fire. Following his gaze she saw Ronson curled up with Laddie next to his grandmother's feet, sleeping. The trio was surrounded by several women all busily making mats with the last of the rushes that had been collected that day. They were almost done. There weren't many rushes left now.
Her gaze slid over the fair-haired boy curled up against the large dog and she sighed to herself. Ronson had rushed to his grandmother the moment they'd returned, seeking comfort from his only remaining family member after the trauma of seeing Lonnie dead. Edith hadn't been surprised. He'd been awfully quiet on the return journey to the keep, merely clutching her tight and shivering. Edith supposed it was the first dead body he'd seen. It surely wouldn't be his last, although hopefully not under the same circumstances. Tripping over a dead man in the woods had to have been disconcerting for the boy. Besides, he'd known Lonnie a little. The young man was one of the few soldiers who had troubled himself to be nice to the new lad after he and his grandmother had arrived.
"Ye should lay down and rest awhile ere the sup."
Edith met Niels's gaze briefly and then glanced shyly away and back to the women by the fire. Ther
e was no sense in her bothering to walk over to help them. Judging from experience, it looked to her like they barely had enough rushes to finish the mats they were presently working on.
"Aye, I think I will rest before dinner," she decided, standing up. Ronson hadn't been the only one shaken up by the discovery that day and she'd actually like a chance to push it from her thoughts.
"I'll see ye up and keep an eye out fer trouble," Niels murmured, taking her arm.
Edith stilled briefly, but continued forward, her heart thudding now in response to the innocent touch. It made her think of his touching her elsewhere, and his kisses as he'd done so, and she wondered if he'd kiss her again once they were in her room. Would he kiss her? Caress her? Would he do other things?
He shouldn't, her sensible side said staunchly, and Edith knew that side was right, but she wanted him to--she just wasn't sure what it was she wanted him to do. She'd like more kissing and caressing certainly. Her breasts were already tingling at the thought of his hands on them, his fingers plucking at her tender nipples. And heat was again building between her legs at the thought of him pressing there as he had in the clearing.
Edith could hardly believe they'd behaved that way with Ronson there. Although, he'd fortunately been off running through the woods with Laddie and missed their indiscretion. Still, if he'd returned and caught them--
"Here ye go."
Edith pulled herself from her thoughts and glanced around with surprise to see that while she'd been distracted, they'd ascended the stairs and arrived at her room.
"Thank ye," Edith murmured and led the way inside.
When he closed the door softly, she turned to offer him a nervous smile that turned into an O of surprise. She was alone. It seemed there would be no more kisses after all.
Chapter 6
Niels rolled on his side, grimaced as his forehead banged into the wall and then abruptly opened his eyes and sat upright. He'd fallen asleep on the job. He was supposed to be guarding Edith, but had dozed off at some point during the night and had apparently ended up lying down and sprawling on the floor without waking.