Page 70 of The Highlander's Auctioned Bride
There was a low murmuring of voices all about her. She looked upward, gasping for air, and then flinched. One of the banners seemed to be moving like a snake over the walls toward her. Above her head, the boar that was mounted on the wall had come alive and was champing at her menacingly.
“Drink this,” James said, handing her a tankard of water and holding it up to her lips. She drank it quickly, her mind spinning.
Am I goin’ to die?She thought.Why is the ceiling caving in on itself?
She managed a few mouthfuls of the water, but as soon as the cool liquid hit her stomach, her body reacted on instinct.
She spun in James’s arm, trying to pull herself away so that she could be spared the indignity of a hundred eyes upon her distress. But there was no time. She was violently sick all over the flagstones.
She did not think that her stomach could possibly expel anything else, but she convulsed three or four times before she finally fell limp against the strong body behind her.
James’s hands never left her, clutching her to him, not allowing her to fall.
Her last thought before the world faded away was that she was glad he was there and that her last moments on this earth had been with him.
Maisie was met with gray, wrinkled eyes and a cold sensation on her stomach.
She groaned and tried to move it away, but firm hands pushed hers to the mattress. She could do nothing but lie there in her weakened state.
She managed to glance down at herself, watching the elderly healer covering her belly with some kind of resin that smelled sweetly of honey.
She felt very sick.
Her stomach was still rolling unpleasantly, and her throat was dry and prickling. The taste of vomit still clung to her lips. She grimaced, turning her head, only to find the tankard of water hovering beside her. James poured some gently into her mouth.
“Slowly, me laird,” the healer murmured. “Nothing but water until she has stopped the convulsions.”
James’s dark blue eyes met hers, and she had never seen him look so grim. When she had returned from the clan lands injured, he had been raging and angry, but now he looked more frightening still. It was as though he had channeled every ounce of anger into himself, and he was ready to kill anyone who came near them.
“What happened?” she croaked.
“Poison,” James stated bleakly. He was sat on the edge of the bed, his shoulders hunched forward, his gaze flitting about the room as though there might be an assassin hiding in the walls. “When I find him, he’s a dead man. Nae one will sleep until he is found; that is a solemn promise.”
“James…am I goin’ to die?” she asked, her hand reaching out to his.
“Nae, lass,” the healer said softly. “Ye will be all right. But any more of that poison and ye wouldnae be with us. It’s a good thing ye didnae have much of the wine.”
Maisie looked at James. “Is anyone else hurt? Did they target ye?”
“Nae. Ye were what they wanted. I’ll kill them. I’ll kill them!”
“James,” her voice came out harsher than she had expected. “Stop that, ye will make yerself ill.”
He scoffed and she felt her anger rise as he got up from the bed. He slammed the tankard down on the bedside table, barely looking at her.
Is he angry because they hurt me, or because they have weakened his position as laird?
“Why would they wish to hurt me?” she said, trying to fathom why anyone would be after her this way.
“I dinnae ken, but ye will eat nothin’ that I dinnae bring ye, and anything ye dae eat I shall be tryin’ first. I’ll nae risk yer life a second time. I was stupid to think that I could expose him that way, I have exposed ye instead. This is my doin’.”
“James, dinnae speak like that,” she said, but her throat was too painful to continue, and she coughed, feeling the healer’s gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Whoe’er has done this, man or woman, will be shown what happens when they threaten a MacLennan.”
Maisie froze, watching him carefully.
Do I dare speak my suspicions?
