Page 34 of The Highlander's Captured Bride
While Ethan was securing the saddle, she asked, “Where are ye riding off to?”
“Dupplin Castle,” he uttered a disparaging sigh. “The Laird there has sent word, asking me to come and assess some of his newest imports from the far east and judge if they are original of nae.”
“Ye’ve traveled to those places?” Violet was amazed.
He smiled. “It’s quite easy to travel from Africa to the east,” Mister MacFerson said. “Ye just need a camel caravan and a good guide. They have forged trade routes all over the land for centuries and the people are very friendly, as well.” His eyes flicked to Ethan, who was slipping the reins over the horse’s head. “Ah, ye’re finished. I’d better be off, thank ye, nephew, and take care of Miss O’Cain on your jaunt.”
Waving the man off, Violet smiled. “What I’d give to see the things he has seen in his life.”
“He’s been traveling for a while,” Ethan said, standing near her. “From me earliest memories, he’s been in and out of Scotland. Hardly going to the same place twice.”
A shared calmness settled between them until she turned. “So…” she aimed her smile at him. “Ye were saying something about sweets?”
* * *
Holding the sack of black buns and plum cake as if it were the wealth of Solomon’s riches and gold, Violet was floating on a cloud riding unhurriedly back to the MacFerson’s castle in the growing evening. Ethan had taken her to the sweet shop, a rustic little cottage offering concoctions of cream, roasted nuts, and fruit coated in caramelized sugar.
After tasting their, well,herfill, as Ethan was not fond of sweets— which she pledged to tease him about it whenever she could—they had spent some time back on the banks of the loch, trading stories of their childhood while she nibbled from her stash.
They were in the backlands of the castle and checked at the stables only to see the newest filly on her legs and suckling from her mother. It was a delightful scene and Ethan pitched more hay into her trough before they headed off to the castle.
Bumping her shoulder with his, she smiled. “Are ye sure yer going to allow me to eat all this by meself?”
He eyed her slyly. “I dinnae ken; it’s too much of a sacrifice.”
They entered the castle and were heading to the main stairs, when the horrendous sounds of a crash and a woman’s shout had them stop in their tracks. Ethan’s head jerked to a direction above. His face went pale and his hand grabbed at the banister. “That came from the infirmary, and something's wrong.”
With him hurrying up the stairs, Violet was a step behind, thankful that he had not barred her from coming with him. She had never been to that part of the castle, and she was fearful that perhaps her father was inside. Ethan shouldered the door and held it open for her without a word.
She, however, had to step aside and find herself space in a corner with the crush of people inside the room. It was pell-mell inside and healers were running, shouting and talking over each other.
Violet spotted her father over the side of the room, squirmed and shouldered herself through the press to his side. He spotted her and his face went grave. Clutching the bag to her chest, she asked, “What is happening?”
He wrapped his arm around her and nodded to a bed, “We found Miss O’Bachnon.”
Twisting, she looked and lying there, pallid, was a woman with thick brown hair, and a faded scar in her forehead. Miss O’Bachnon was shivering, shaking and twisting on her bed. A healer was trying to have her drink something from a tankard before she uttered a low, heartbreaking keen that had other healers crowding around to her. Dramatically, her hand flopped to the bedside, eyes fluttering and then, in the tense moment where Violet held in her breath…she was dead.
Her bag of sweets dropped to the floor.
14
Staring across the table at his father’s grim face, Ethan gritted his jaw. The one lead they had on the murderer was now dead as well. With nothing else, no other witnesses, no other clues, they were thrown back to the beginning.
“The soldiers found her in the woods of Ackwell, asleep, and took her in. I was told that while on the way she became pale and feverish. They kent she had drunk some poisonous infusion or eaten something harmful and rushed her here,” he said.
Frowning, Ethan asked, “Why? Clan Hofte was nearby, they could have carried her there.”
The laird rubbed his haggard face, “They were more than halfway to here. It wouldnae make sense for them to turn back.”
“And now, how can we find out the truth?” Ethan said bitterly. “She was the only person who kent the truth. I hardly ken she wrote out the name of her accomplice if she had one.”
“We’ll have to find another way,” his father said grimly. “That’s the only thing we can dae now.”
“But…” his breath shook and his heart felt knotted up with anger and frustration somewhere in his throat, and when he uttered his last word, his tone broke, “How?”
“I ken that is something yer faither and I should discuss,” Mister O’Cain’s calm voice interrupted them from the doorway. He came further in and said, “I ken it's frustrating but I’m sure there is somethin’ more behind this.”
“Like what?” Ethan's words were dark. “She killed herself from guilt for what she did to me brother?”
