Plot Thwarted
Fynn drew his dagger and moved quickly to the open door.
David pulled Moira away to the window.
Ewan was only vaguely aware of these movements, his attention centered squarely on Jeannie who sat on the edge of the laird’s bed, spoon in hand.
“Stop,” he shouted, lunging to swat the bowl with the back of his hand. Broth spattered over the furs covering a gaping Kendric. Fynn hurried to save Jeannie from slipping to the floor in shock. The bowl flew across the chamber and came to rest at David’s feet.
Shona strode to her uncle’s bedside. “Poisoned,” she explained. “Did ye eat any?”
Wide-eyed, he shook his head.
“Nay,” Jeannie said, clinging to Fynn. “I was just about to give him the first taste. Thank goodness I let it cool first. God forgive me if I’d poisoned my own brother.”
“But I brought the broth from the servery,” the distraught maidservant interjected. “How could it have been tainted?”
“Ailig stole the vial of laudanum. We believe he somehow got into the kitchens,” Ewan explained.
Moira gasped.
The color drained from Jeannie’s face. “Ailig is here? In Creag? I have to sit down.”
Ewan exchanged a glance with Fynn as he guided Jeannie to a chair by the hearth. The glint of steel in his kinsman’s eyes reassured him the man would fight to the death to protect Lady Lazy-Eye.
“I’m relieved to see ye safely returned, lass,” Kendric rasped to Shona. “We feared the worst when Moira and David told us of yer abduction.”
“’Tis an enormous relief to see they both survived the ordeal and I’m pleased to see ye looking better, Uncle,” she replied, pulling away the broth-spattered covering. “Yon Mackinloch rescued me, believe it or nay.”
“I had help from Walter Gilbertson, and Ruadh,” Ewan pointed out.
Kendric narrowed his eyes. “Ye’re too modest, laddie.” He grimaced, shifting his weight in an apparent attempt to get more comfortable. “On another subject, Jeannie informed me o’ the shenanigans ye young folk got up to.” He wagged an accusing finger. “Pretending to be somebody else in order to avoid the marriage.”
Shona paled, twirling a finger in the coverlet. “Aye, ’twas foolish.”
Ewan agreed the deception was foolish, but knew his own father would be furious if he got wind of the escapade. His words were for The Camron but he looked into Shona’s eyes as he spoke. “’Twas the act of a coward, my laird, and I’m nay a cowardly man. I’m ashamed of my behavior and regret it deeply.”
“So now ye want to marry my niece?” Kendric asked.
He made no mention of the fact Shona had spent days and nights as Mungo’s prisoner. Ewan decided he’d face that foe if and when it raised its ugly head. “More than anything. If she’ll have me.”
He’d never exposed so much of his heart to anyone, let alone a woman. He feared his lungs might burst as he held his breath, waiting…
Shona raked her gaze over him, from head to toe, as if considering the matter. Then she blushed beautifully, smiled broadly, and replied, “Aye. Ye’ll do.”
Ewan exhaled, took her hand firmly in his and brushed a kiss on her knuckles. When he raised his head, their gazes met. He narrowed his eyes in an effort to impart the silent message that she wouldn’t always be allowed to tease him so brazenly, though he doubted that would prove to be true.
“Hurr…hurr…hurrah,” David exclaimed, causing everyone in the room to cheer as well, though Kendric’s cheer turned into a cough that became a groan.
“In that case,” Shona’s uncle declared when the pain seemed to ease, “I hereby appoint Ewan Mackinloch as interim laird while I convalesce. We’re under threat and I can do naught to protect us if I’m lying here.”
It wasn’t the clan Ewan had hoped to lead one day, but the pride in his betrothed’s green eyes confirmed it was the right one.
“I accept the honor,” he replied, shaking Kendric’s hand. “Ye can rely on me to rid MacCarron lands o’ the threat in its midst.”
*
A maelstrom of emotions swirled in Shona’s heart. The plot against her uncle’s life had been thwarted. For now he was safe, though no one in Creag Castle would be completely free from danger until Mungo and Ailig were brought to justice.
She grieved for Jeannie in particular, threatened again by Ailig’s reappearance in their lives. Her pale features betrayed a deep fear, despite Fynn’s obvious determination to protect her. He wore his feelings for her aunt on his sleeve. The notion love had smitten Jeannie was akin to a miracle. Fynn was fortunate to have found a woman with such a generous spirit.
Heartening as well was the bond forming between David and Moira. The maid clearly wasn’t bothered by the lad’s speech problems, any more than Fynn and Jeannie cared about lazy eyes and missing hands.
She only hoped Ewan would be as tolerant of what had befallen her during the abduction. She had worried he wouldn’t want her after the ruse and the kidnapping, yet he’d offered for her hand. Mayhap guilt had more to do with his reasoning, or, worse still, a desire to take over the lairdship.
She shoved aside her doubts, hoping what she’d glimpsed in Ewan’s eyes was indeed genuine regard. The time would come when she’d have to confess what had happened, and trust he would believe Mungo hadn’t raped her. Men were prideful creatures who were often quick to jump to mistaken conclusions. However, he was the chief her clan desperately needed.
And there was one more unthinkable horror that had to be addressed. She took hold of Kendric’s warm hand. “I believe Ailig had something to do with yer accident, Uncle.”
He nodded. “I’ve been trying to fathom how it came about. Jock is a good horse, steady and reliable. Something spooked him.”
His suspicions gave her the courage to voice her deepest concern. “The Morleys were involved in my father’s death too. I’m certain of it.”
*
Ewan had paid scant attention to the news that the laird of Clan MacCarron had died a few months ago. After the signing of the Clunes agreement to end the feud, there seemed little reason to worry about such matters.
Now he cared a great deal about Shona’s allegations. If the Morleys had indeed murdered her father he would move heaven and earth to avenge his death. “Ye must have reasons for yer suspicions,” he said softly.
“’Twasna so much the remark Ailig made about my father’s death. ’Twas the way he said it. He was taunting me, making me feel he knew something I didna.”
“He’s capable of it,” Jeannie murmured, staring into the empty hearth. “I dinna ken why I didna suspect something afore this. Beathan’s death was so sudden.”
“It took us all off guard,” Shona whispered.
Anger seethed in Ewan’s gut. He hadn’t always seen eye to eye with his own domineering father, but the notion of someone murdering him couldn’t be tolerated. His heart broke for his golden-haired beauty. If the Morleys had killed her only surviving parent, he’d make sure they suffered the consequences. “Tell me the circumstances,” he said.