Page 70 of Highland Renegade
“I suppose she would ken, since she probably has some medical use for it,” Donovan said.
“Oh, she does!” Glenda burst out. All eyes turned to her and she flushed.
“What would that be?” Fiona asked.
The girl’s face reddened further. “I’ve heard some of the maids say they ask her for a potion to…” She hesitated, the color growing to the shade of a beet. “To stave off men’s attentions… So they would not get with child.” When everyone stared at her, she stammered on. “Sometimes the maids pick it themselves and take it to Old Gwendolyn to fix.”
Ian’s face looked like a thundercloud. “And how many maids ken where to find it?”
Glenda looked at him wide-eyed. “I doona ken, but it grows in the fields. ’Tis nae hard to find.”
Emily tried to keep her expression impassive. If the plant was that common, it meant nearly anyone could have picked it and made a tincture to put drops in the wine. She looked directly at Glenda. The girl wouldn’t meet her gaze.Had she done it?
If Ian suspected as much, Emily couldn’t tell. His face had become a rigid mask, hiding whatever he was feeling. “I will look into that. Meanwhile…” He looked around the table. “Until I can get to the bottom of this, we will all be eating from the same platters and drinking from the same bottles.”
Broderick’s brow rose again. “Do ye suspect one of us?”
“I accuse nae one.” Ian glanced at Devon. “Nae one. And, for now, I want to keep this attempt within these walls. But we also have to make a point. We will be taking our meals in the Great Hall after tonight. If we are seen taking food from the same platters, whoever is responsible for this will have to think twice.”
Carr nodded slowly. “’Tis a good idea. I canna think of a single MacGregor who would want to kill one of their own.”
As opposed to killing a Sassenach,Emily thought.
Ian’s mouth tightened, but he nodded. “To make sure that doesna happen, either Maggie and Cook will supervise the food preparation and Hamish will keep an eye out for whoever enters the kitchen.” A muscle twitched in his jaw. “I will not have another murder take place at Strae Castle.”
Emily felt a chill slide down her spine. He meanthermurder. Bless him, he was doing everything he could to protect her. She prayed that it would be enough.
…
Ian wished he hadn’t been so blunt, since no one seemed to have an appetite now. He hoped it was because of his harsh words and not because they feared the food in front of them was tainted.
“We will nae insult Cook by leaving the food untouched.” He ladled soup into a bowl for Emily and placed it in front of her before handing off the huge spoon to Fiona. Then he broke one of the loaves of bread Maggie had carried in and handed half to Emily, keeping the other half for himself. Tomorrow night he planned to do the same thing in the Great Hall to show one and all that Emily was under his personal protection.
He was aware of Glenda watching his solicitous movements from beneath her lashes, mouth drawn down. Her expression gave him cause to reflect on his earlier conversation with Fiona. Poison was a female’s preferred weapon, since most didn’t know how to handle a knife or shoot a musket. It would have been easy enough to put whisky into the tea after Emily fell and hit her head, but would a slight girl, barely four and ten, have had the strength to loosen a board on the steps?
Ian knew his ward was somewhat infatuated with him, that she saw him as a hero when he’d done only what any other man would have done, given the same circumstances. She was at a vulnerable age, just coming into womanhood, so he’d walked a fine line between not completely squelching her awkward flirtations and keeping a distance. Mayhap he should have been firmer, but even if Glenda were jealous, would she actually try to murder Emily? The idea seemed as preposterous as Devon trying to kill her.
And yet, someone at Strae Castle had tried.
“Do ye nae agree?”
Ian blinked, suddenly aware that Donovan had asked him a question and that everyone, especially the ladies, was watching him. “I doona ken—”
“Ye have nae heard a word I said, have ye?”
“Sorry. I was pondering.”
“Understandable,” Carr said, “but I think we should consider changing our plans.”
“No!”
The plaintive wail came from Lorelei, Fiona, and Glenda at the same time. Ian blinked again. “Plans?”
Donovan sighed. “I suggested that we doona take the women with us to Campbell’s ball.”
Ian frowned. “We already discussed this.”
“Aye, but that was before the…incident…happened,” his uncle answered. “Ye canna oversee the serving of food or drink at Kilchurn Castle. Whoever put the tincture into the wine may have more left. If that person were to put a few drops into the wrong drink at the ball and someone took ill, the result might very well be clan war. We doona need to be at odds with the Campbells this close to Parliament starting up and Lord Mount Stuart’s petition considered.”
