Page 88 of Highland Renegade
“Where is Emily?” he asked as soon as they reached him.
“We doona ken,” Fiona said, a little breathless like she’d been running. “I thought she was still at the distillery—”
“But her horse just came back,” Juliana cut in. “Without her.”
“What?” Ian didn’t wait for an answer and raced down the length of the hall, leaving his men to stare at him, some of them with tankards half raised. He paid no heed to their calls. Carr could handle it.
He nearly collided with Devon coming up the stairs to the front door. In his arms, Emily hung limply.
“I found her on the road to the distillery,” he said, handing her over.
Ian cradled her, making sure her head didn’t loll. Thank God she was breathing. He had a horrible feeling of déjà vu.“Fetch the physician and Gwendolyn,” he ordered as he strode swiftly to her chamber, her sisters and Fiona on his heels.
He kicked open the door and went to lay Emily on her bed—just like last time. Maggie bustled in behind him and he found himself shoved out the door—just like the last time—while the women took over.
Only this time, as he waited, something was different. This time he realized that Emily was the most important thing in his life. More important than reclaiming Strae Castle—or even their land—if she weren’t here to share it. Without her, what else mattered?
He needed to find out who was trying to kill her before they succeeded.
He stared at the door, then at the empty hallway, cursing the time it took to wait before he could see her. When Devon returned, he’d find out what had happened. It seemed for once Devon had turned up at a convenient time.
Ian paused. Or had he? Why had he been on that road?
Ian closed the door to the library several hours later and sighed. It seemed he was spending more time in this room than in his own bedchamber lately. Which might be just as well—if it weren’t for thereasonhe was in here—because he was harboring more and more lustful thoughts about Emily joining him in his bed, along with all the things they could do besides sleep.
He looked at his assembled brothers, sister, and uncles. Their expressions, with the exception of Fiona, were resigned. They all knew why they had been summoned to this room. Again.
“The physician did say she was going to be all right,” Carr said.
“And Old Gwendolyn is staying with her this time,” Fiona added.
“I ken that.” He studied each of the men. “But these attacks need to stop.”
“We doona ken this…accident…was an attack,” Broderick said. “Jamie said the girth strap was frayed and caused the saddle to slip.”
Ian grimaced. Once Emily regained consciousness, she’d told them she felt it loosen before she fell. He’d gone straight to the stables to look at the saddle himself. The leather strap that pulled the cinch tight was intact, but the cloth part that went under the filly’s belly had torn apart. It didn’t look like it had been cut because, as his uncle said, the threads were frayed and the girth looked like it had worn through. He asked Jamie why he hadn’t inspected Muirne’s saddle first and found out he’d been out rounding up the mares that had gotten loose. A stable lad had actually saddled the horse. When he’d turned his questions on him, the lad trembled so much Ian feared he’d soak his breeches.
“I’ve nae proof, but it seems too much of a coincidence.” He held up his hand and began ticking each finger. “First, there was a loose board on the steps that caused her to fall and could have killed her—”
“Didna ye say she got the sheets tangled?” Donovan asked. “The board could have come loose when she pulled at the sheets.”
“I didna find any nails on the floor.”
“They could have gotten caught in the sheets.”
“They were nae found.” He continued. “Second, alcohol was put in the tea and made her fall asleep when she should have been kept awake—”
“Which is why Gwendolyn is with her now,” Carr said.
“Aye.” Ian was taking no chances this time.
“And whoever put it in there might have meant well.” Rory glanced around. “Have we nae all added a dram to tea now and then?”
“Mayhap, but what about the wine? Someone put hemlock in it.”
There was silence after that remark.
“Poison is a woman’s weapon. Glenda might have done it.” Broderick shrugged when everyone looked at him. “We all ken she has taken a liking to Ian.”
