Devil shot her a sideways glance, one she didn't see. Noting her closed eyes, he let his lips curve, then he looked out of the window-and let the question in her words pass unanswered.
Chapter 2O
Together, Catriona and Richard reentered the front hall.
"Excuse me, sir." Henderson came up. "Corby was wondering if he could have a word before he goes back to Lower Farm."
"Of course." Releasing Catriona, Richard beckoned to Corby, who'd hung back by the wall.
By Richard's side, Catriona hesitated, then quietly glided away. Leaving Richard conferring about the orchard fence, she silently made her way upstairs.
She had unfinished business to attend to.
It had been easy to set aside the question of Richard's poisoner while his family-their family-had been here. In truth, it would have been difficult to deal with the matter appropriately while they'd been about.
But they were gone now.
There wasn't a single person in the vale who did not know who had poisoned Richard. But all her people would, with their usual unwavering confidence, leave the matter in her hands-to be settled as The Lady willed.
Which was as it should be, but she wasn't looking forward to it-to what might have to be.
Reaching the top of the stairs, Catriona looked back, down into the hall to where Richard's dark head was bent as he spoke to Corby. She looked for one long moment, then drew in a deep breath, straightened her spine, straightened her shoulders, and turning, headed for their chamber.
Richard knew the instant she left his side. From the corner of his eye, he saw her climb the stairs, her steps slow and measured, saw her reach the top, hesitate as she looked back at him, then quietly walk away.
The instant he finished with Corby, he followed her.
He opened the door to their room and immediately saw her, standing at the end of the bed, pushing a thick shawl into a saddle bag.
She looked up and saw him, then continued with her packing.
He shut the door and advanced on the bed, on her. "Where is she?"
Catriona looked up as he halted beside her; she met his gaze, then raised a questioning brow.
Richard's lips thinned. "Algaria. It's obvious it was she who poisoned me."
Catriona hesitated, then grimaced. "We can't say that for certain."
"It hasn't escaped my notice that, other than you, only she knows enough of those elixirs and potions you store in the stillroom to mix whatever it was in that coffee."
"Wolfsbane. Plus a little henbane. But that doesn't convict her."
"No, but it makes her the obvious suspect." He hesitated, then asked, rather more quietly, "Besides, if it wasn't she, where are you going?"
Her gaze on her saddle bag, Catriona grimaced again.
She heard Richard sigh, then felt him shift. He reached past her, bracing one arm on the bedpost; sliding the other around her, he turned her, trapped her-lifting her hands to his chest, she looked up.
He trapped her gaze. "Don't you trust me yet?"
She looked into his eyes and saw nothing but devotion-selfless, committed, and unshakable; with a sigh, she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead on his chest. "You know I do."
"Then I'll come with you. No-" He held up a hand when she looked up, her mouth opened to argue. "Consider me your protector, your champion-your consort. I'll hold myself at your command." He studied her eyes. "In this matter, I won't act without it."
Determination and commitment were etched in his face, enshrined in his blue, blue eyes. Catriona studied them, then drew a deep breath and nodded. "We'll be gone for two days."
Mounted-she on her mare, he on Thunderer-they reached the mouth of the vale just after midday. Richard followed as Catriona turned the mare's head north; he waited until they were trotting steadily before asking: "Where exactly are we going?"