“Geordie!”

Blinking away the raindrops clinging to her eyelashes, Edith glanced to her husband on the horse ahead of hers at his shout and then looked past him to the man riding at the front of their group. Alick rode behind her, but Geordie was leading the way, riding ahead to watch for trouble. He slowed now and then turned to ride back at that call from his brother.

Bringing her horse to a halt behind her husband’s mount when he stopped, Edith waited patiently as the two men began to converse. She couldn’t hear what they were saying over the storm thundering around them, but hoped it had something to do with stopping to wait out the downpour. It had started around noon, two hours after they’d left Drummond. It had just been a light drizzle at first, but Niels had immediately dug a plaid out of his bag and dropped back next to her to suggest she wrap the water-repelling cloth around herself. She hadn’t really thought it necessary at first, but had accepted the offering and drawn it around herself, appreciating the gesture.

The drizzle had continued off and on through most of the afternoon as they’d ridden, but half an hour ago it had suddenly turned into a downpour. It was growing harder and windier with every passing moment and Edith was now cocooned in the plaid, with just her eyes peeking out for all the good that did. It was now almost as dark as night, though she knew it could only be late afternoon, but between that and the wind blowing the rain into her eyes it was getting hard to see.

Dashing the water out of her eyes, Edith sat up a little straighter in the saddle and watched when Niels suddenly turned his horse and sidled up next to her so that their horses each faced opposite directions.

“We’re thinking we should stop and wait out the storm,” he announced, leaning out of his saddle and leaning close to be sure she heard.

Edith nodded with relief.

“We need to find high ground though, or someplace that’ll offer a bit o’ protection. Ye ken this area better than us, lass. Do ye know a likely spot?”

Biting her lip, Edith glanced around, searching for anything that might look familiar. The truth was while this was Drummond land, she didn’t often stray far from the castle. The loch and the meadow were as far as she usually went unless traveling to visit Saidh or Jo or something of that ilk, and she could count on one hand how many times she’d done that.

Unless she included childhood trips, Edith thought suddenly as her gaze landed on a tree ahead and to her right.

“The lodge!” she blurted with excitement.

“The lodge?” Niels asked.

Edith nodded with the first smile she’d managed since it had started to rain. “Ye see that tree there? The big one with carving on the trunk.”

Niels turned to look where she was pointing and then nodded. “Aye.”

“Me da did that years ago when we were children. He used to bring me, my mother and brothers out to the lodge a couple times a year when we were young,” she explained, shouting to be heard over the rain. “We were supposed to be hunting, but mostly we played games and had picnics and swam and such. He carved that on one o’ the trips. It means we’re close to the lodge.”

“Can ye find it?” Niels asked at once.

Edith peered at the tree for a moment and then nodded, “Aye, I think so.”

“Then lead the way and we can get in out o’ the rain,” Niels said with a smile.

“Aye.” Edith nodded, and then urged her horse forward, searching the ground for the path she recalled. It had been years since her father had brought them all out here, not since her mother died, and at first she worried the path might be completely gone by now. But after a surprisingly short search, a crow of triumph slid from her lips and she turned her mare onto the path. Someone had obviously been using the lodge for the path to still be there, Edith thought as she led the men into the trees. Probably one of her brothers. Both Roderick and Hamish had liked to hunt.

It took twenty minutes or so to reach the lodge. Edith didn’t remember it taking that long, so was starting to worry she’d followed the wrong path or something when the trees suddenly gave way to the clearing where the small stone building and stables were. Relief coursing through her, Edith steered her mare straight for the small stable, slowed her as they approached the closed door and then quickly slid off and rushed forward to open it herself rather than wait for one of the men to do it for her. She was so eager to get out of the cold damp rain, that even the stables looked attractive to her at that point.

She eagerly pulled the door open, and then staggered back, bumping into someone as the stench of rotting meat rolled out over her.

“Edith, what—?” She heard Niels say as hands clasped her shoulders, and then he must have caught the scent that now had her covering her mouth with her hand and heaving. Cursing, her husband urged her away from the stable and toward the lodge, only to stop and lead her to a tree that would offer cover instead.

“’Tis okay. Ye can take yer hand away now. ’Tis better here,” Niels said.

Edith lowered her hand to take a cautious sniff and then sighed with relief and took several deep breaths to clear her nose and lungs, and soothe her stomach. Once she was sure she wasn’t going to be sick, she glanced toward the stables and was just in time to see Geordie and Alick come out. Both had the cloth of their tartans over their faces, but their eyes were grim as they collected the reins of the horses and led them to the tree.

“What’d ye find?” Niels asked solemnly as he helped them tie the horses to a low branch in the tree they stood under.

“Dead horses,” Geordie said grimly. “Starved to death would be my guess. It looks like they tried to eat their stalls, or perhaps they were just trying to get out to find food.”

“How many?” Niels asked when Geordie paused.

“Seven in all.”

Edith stiffened and eyed him sharply. “Seven?”

“Aye.” Geordie nodded.

“Husband,” she said anxiously, grasping Niels’s arm. “Brodie took six men when he and Victoria left, and Lonnie was killed in the woods, his horse presumably stolen. Ye do no’ think . . . ?”

Mouth flattening, Niels urged her toward Alick. “Stay here with me brother, I’ll be right back.”

He turned to head for the lodge with Geordie on his heels. Edith bit her lip as she watched. She felt like she should be going with him too, but simply couldn’t bring herself to do it. Her mind was painting an image of what they would find inside and it wasn’t a pretty one. No man would willingly leave horses to starve to death, they depended on them too much. The owners certainly must be dead too, and had been for longer than the horses who had starved to death. If it was Brodie, Victoria and their escort . . .

Swallowing, Edith watched Niels open the door to the lodge. The way both men immediately jerked back and then drew a bit of tartan up to cover their noses and mouths before entering, told her there was definitely something dead inside.

Apparently, Alick thought so too, because he suddenly placed a supportive arm around her shoulders, and said, “It may no’ be yer brother and his wife.”

She knew he was trying to reassure her, but even he didn’t sound like he believed it, and Edith found herself unable to see through the sudden well of tears in her eyes. Dashing them away, she bit her lip and simply waited. It seemed a long time before the two men came back out. Geordie immediately walked off into the woods and she could hear his heaving even over the rain.

While Niels was as gray-faced as his brother, he went in the opposite direction. He walked straight to the well. He didn’t even have to draw water, the rainstorm had apparently left the bucket that sat on the well wall full of water. Niels dipped his hands in and appeared to be cleaning them. When he finished, he dumped the water on the ground and then walked over to the tree to join them.

“Is it them?” Edith asked quietly, already knowing the answer.

Niels opened his mouth, closed it and then sighed and admitted, “’Tis hard to tell. They’ve been dead awhile, but ’tis six men and a woman. The woman is wearing a gold gown.”

Edith frowned. “Victoria was wearing a gold gown when they left.”

Niels merely nodded, not seeming surprised, and then he held up his hand and said, “And the man beside her was wearing this.”

Edith glanced down at his hand when he held it out. For a moment she just stared at the gold ring resting on his palm. It was a man’s ring, gold with the Drummond family crest on it. It was the signet ring her father had worn up until the day he’d died. He’d pressed it into the wax on any messages he sent as proof they were from him. When he had died, Tormod had removed it and taken it to Roderick, and then he’d taken it to Hamish when Roderick died. The last she’d seen it Brodie had been wearing it as he left Drummond. He’d been wearing that ring, and Victoria had been riding beside him, her gold gown glowing in the sunlight.

It was them. The woman was Victoria, and the six dead men were Brodie and the five remaining men from his escort. She had now lost every last member of her family. She was alone, Edith realized dully and wondered where that high keening sound was coming from. She realized it was coming from her just before darkness closed in around her and she began to fall.

Cursing, Niels caught Edith before she could land in the mud, and then simply stood there, holding her and staring at her pale face, wondering what to do. They couldn’t stay here. Even did they drag the dead out of the lodge and put them in the stables until they could arrange to return them to Drummond, the smell in the lodge would be unbearable. Besides, he didn’t want Edith waking in the place where she knew her brother had taken his last breath.

“Do we ride on?” Alick asked hopefully as Geordie returned from the woods.

“Nay,” Niels said grimly, and then sighed miserably and turned to carry Edith to his mount.

“I’ll hold her while ye mount,” Geordie said quietly.

Nodding, Niels handed her over and put a foot in the stirrup.

“But where are we going?” Alick asked with a frown. “We can no’ take her back to Drummond. She’s no’ safe there.”

“Nay, she’s no’,” Geordie agreed solemnly, and then pointed out, “But she is the last o’ the old laird’s children. She’s now clan leader. She’d no’ thank us did she wake up to find we’d made her as much a coward as Brodie by taking her to safety at Buchanan and leaving her people unprotected.”

Niels’s mouth tightened as his brother put words to his own thoughts. Much as he’d like it otherwise, they would have to return to Drummond. And then they’d have to keep Edith safe while he smoked out the killer. He just hoped to God he could do it before the killer could finish what he’d started and kill the last of the Drummond clan, his wife.

“They’re lifting the gate.”

Niels tore his gaze from Edith’s pale, sleeping face in the moonlight and glanced toward the keep to see that the gate was indeed rising. Now that the storm had finally ended, the night sky was as clear as could be with a large full moon and countless stars making visibility pretty good now that they were out from under the cover of the trees.

Sighing, Niels urged his horse forward to cross the open area between the castle and the forest that surrounded it. He set the pace at a slow walk to avoid jolting Edith.

Niels had sent Geordie ahead to warn the men on the wall that they were returning and to get them to open the gate. While he did that, Niels and Alick had waited at the base of the hill, just outside the trees. He’d wanted to avoid getting too close and risking Edith being woken up by the shouting back and forth. She’d woken up several times on the return journey, and each time had cried herself back to sleep. The only reason he knew that was because, hidden under the tartan he’d wrapped around them both, she’d soaked his shirt with warm tears each and every time she’d woken.

Niels knew all Edith’s tears weren’t solely for Brodie and Victoria. Edith was finally mourning the passing of her entire family. She’d let a little out when Cawley had died, but that had merely been a drop in the bucket of the sorrow she must feel. He couldn’t even imagine how he’d feel were he to lose all of his brothers as well as his sister in a few short weeks. But he did know it would be devastating. Niels wanted to spare her from that as much as possible for now. He knew that he was just delaying the inevitable. Edith needed to let her pain out and cry, and if she didn’t do it now, she would just do it later. But between getting little more than an hour’s nap last night after her poisoning, and their very long, very useless journey today, Niels was too exhausted to be able to offer her the comfort he felt she would need. He was hoping he could get her inside and to bed without waking her. Once he’d had a nap, even a short one, he could hold and comfort her as she spent her tears.

Geordie was dismounted and waiting at the gate with Tormod, Rory and several soldiers as Niels reached it. When Geordie moved out into his path, he stopped his horse and raised an eyebrow in question.

Whether he could see that or not, Geordie explained, “The men are waiting to shield her from arrows,” Geordie said solemnly as the group of men rushed forward with various items Niels didn’t understand until they put them together next to his horse. A barrel, a crate and a bucket one next to the other made up a set of makeshift stairs for him to dismount without jolting Edith.

“Thank ye,” Niels almost whispered the words. Bracing his left foot on the barrel, he lifted and shifted his right leg over his mount’s head and stood up with Edith in his arms. He then walked down the crate and bucket as if they were stairs to reach the ground.

As Alick dismounted and their horses were led away, Tormod said, “This way,” and stepped aside so that Niels got his first look at what they’d arranged. The sight made him stop in surprise.

With the raging storm slowing them at first, the return journey had taken longer than the journey out had. It was late now, closer to dawn than the dusk that had just past. Everyone but the men on the wall should have been inside sleeping, and they probably had been before Geordie’s arrival. But now it looked like every last man and woman at Drummond, from the soldiers down to the kitchen maids, were lined up two by two from the gate to the keep doors, each of them holding a shield high in the air so that they formed a tunnel Niels could safely carry Edith through without the fear of arrows from overhead.

Swallowing, Niels turned to Geordie and murmured, “Thank ye.”

“It was no’ me idea,” he said with a crooked smile. “The word that we found Laird Brodie dead and Lady Edith was returning spread while we waited fer ye to cross from the woods to the gate and the men just started lining up with the shields. Before I knew it servants were pouring out o’ the castle to help protect their lady. Her people think a lot o’ yer wife.”

Niels stared at him blankly for a minute, and then simply nodded and started into the tunnel Edith’s people had made to offer her safe passage. But he was touched beyond words at this show of caring and concern for his wife. To him it indicated that they cared for her as much as she cared for them. He was quite positive they would not have done this for her brother.

Niels walked quickly, but kept his head up and tried to make eye contact with every person he passed to let them know that their actions were noted and appreciated. Many nodded as if understanding, others simply straightened a bit with pride, but some did not notice because their sorrowful eyes were on their sleeping lady.

Despite the tunnel of shields, Niels was relieved to get Edith inside the keep. After the hours spent cold and damp, the heat in the great hall was welcome.

“I sent Moibeal up to build a fire in m’lady’s room,” Tormod announced as they followed him inside.

“Thank ye. Grab a cask o’ ale and some goblets and come up,” he added as he headed for the stairs.

“Who?” Geordie asked uncertainly.

“All o’ ye,” Niels said grimly. He wanted Tormod and his brothers all there. He needed to talk to them, but was unwilling to leave Edith alone. They’d have to talk quietly around the table by the fire . . . which only had two chairs he recalled, and as he started up the stairs, Niels added, “Ye may want to grab some chairs from the other rooms. There are only two.”

“Are ye sure we’ll all fit?” Rory asked, and something about the amusement in his voice made Niels pause and half turn to look back. His eyes widened incredulously when he saw that every last man and woman who had lined up to ensure Edith’s safe passage, had followed them inside and across the great hall, and were either on the stairs behind him, or waiting patiently for their turn to follow them up the stairs. It seemed his “all o’ ye” had been heard and taken literally when he’d meant only his brothers and Tormod. Niels almost explained that he hadn’t really meant everyone in the castle, but then changed his mind and simply said, “We’ll talk down here.”

As soon as everyone started backtracking down the stairs, Niels glanced to Alick and asked, “Would ye fetch some furs from the bed to lay Edith on by the fire?”

“O’ course.” Alick slipped past him and hurried upstairs as Niels followed everyone else back down. It was slow enough going with so many before him that Alick was back just as he stepped off the stairs and started toward the fire. It looked like his brother had grabbed every last fur off the bed, and a few from another room, he noted with a weary smile as the younger man ran ahead to lay out and stack the furs to make a comfy bed. He then laid the last couple over Edith once Niels had set her gently down on the others.

The moment they stepped back, Laddie appeared and curled up in front of his mistress. Edith stirred then, and Niels held his breath, afraid she’d wake up, but she merely curled her arm around the dog and buried her face in his fur.

“Laddie and me’ll keep her safe, m’laird,” Ronson said solemnly beside him.

Niels glanced down into his serious little face and nodded. “Thank ye, lad.”

Ronson nodded in response and then sat down on the edge of the furs to stare at his lady with eyes too old for his years.

Sighing, Niels turned and headed to where the men were silently setting up the trestle tables again. They were disassembled each night to make room for sleeping, and then reassembled every morning, but morning was coming early this day. Or perhaps night had been extended, Niels thought, since he planned to retire as soon as he’d finished talking to their people.

“So ye found Brodie?” Tormod said finally, once Niels was seated with ale in hand.

“Aye,” he said grimly. “At the family’s hunting lodge. Brodie, his wife and the five remaining men in his escort were all there and dead. And their horses were all in the stables still and also dead.”

“Starved to death,” Geordie put in.

“Could ye tell how Brodie and the others died?” Rory asked. “Were there wounds or—?”

“I think it was poison,” Niels interrupted. “They were all at table with bowls o’ what looked like dried-up stew in front o’ them and half-drunk goblets o’ ale. The ale cask had a hint o’ that smell from the poisoned mead, so I’m guessing they were poisoned, but that this time enough was put in that it was fast-acting. Unlike Laird Drummond and his sons, they did no’ even finish their meals or get up from their seats ere they died. And they had been dead quite a while, long enough they were unrecognizable.”

“The maid,” Tormod muttered.

Niels glanced to the warrior uncertainly. “Moibeal?”

“Nay, Lady Victoria’s maid, Nessa. Ye said there was one woman and six men, but Lady Victoria took her young maid and left Effie here. There should have been two women and six men.”

“Oh, aye,” Niels said with a frown. “I recall Edith mentioning that, or mayhap it was you, but I only saw the one woman.” He turned to Geordie in question, but his brother shook his head.

“I did no’ see another woman either. Just the one,” he said quietly.

“Mayhap it was no’ them then,” Tormod said. “Ye said they were unrecognizable.”

“Aye. That’s why I took this off the finger of the one next to the woman.” Niels slid the ring out of his pocket and held it out for Tormod to see.

The old man’s mouth tightened and he nodded. “Aye. Brodie had that when they left. It’s the laird’s ring.” He ran a weary hand through his grizzled hair and said, “I’ll take some men and go fer the bodies at first light. We’ll check the area for the maid too. Mayhap she didn’t have as much as the others and managed to drag herself outside to die.”

Niels grunted at the suggestion, but then cleared his throat and said, “Just so ye’re prepared, they’re a terrible mess. Bloated and their skin slipping. I had to cut off Brodie’s finger and remove it so I could take the ring to Edith for identification.”

“Then they’ve been dead quite a while,” Rory said quietly.

“My guess would be probably since the night they arrived at the hunting lodge,” Niels said solemnly. “The horses would have taken three or four days, perhaps a week at most to die without food and water, and they were far from freshly dead too.”

“What now?” Tormod asked quietly.

“Now I keep Edith safe and find the culprit behind the deaths o’ her whole family,” Niels said grimly, rubbing the back of his neck. He was so damned tired, but said, “We’re going to have to find a way to keep the food and drink from being poisoned.”

“I can restrict access to the kitchens to just meself and me three most trusted workers.”

Niels glanced around until he spotted the speaker, and recognized the Drummond cook, Jaimie, among the crowd of people who had been standing and sitting nearby listening. The man stepped forward and continued, “We can set up tables outside the kitchen. The three lasses I choose can deliver the food out onto that table as ’tis ready, for the other servants to carry to the trestle tables. But I shall personally bring Lady Edith her food to ensure no one gets near it.”

“We’ll move several casks o’ ale and cider out o’ the buttery and store them here in the great hall until this is resolved. That way we can keep whatever Lady Edith wishes to drink locked up in the buttery,” Tormod added. “I am the only one with a key. I shall personally fetch her drinks when she wants one.”

“That covers poisoning,” Rory said quietly. “But it means ye’ll have to watch fer attack.”

“Aye,” Niels nodded. “She’ll need a guard with her at all times, at least two men. And she can no’ go in the bailey unless she has shields around her and over her head to guard against arrows.”

“I’ll arrange her guards in shifts before I leave,” Tormod said quietly. “I’m sure we’ll have no shortage o’ volunteers.”

A murmur of agreement went around the crowd at that, and Niels nodded wearily, but then stood. “Thank ye. I’m to bed.”

“I’ll see ye and Edith up. I’m ready fer bed meself,” Geordie said, rising as well.

“Aye,” Alick got up. “’Tis been a long day.”

Niels started to turn away and then paused and swung back. “Tormod, if ye’re riding to the lodge, ye will no’ be here to tend to Edith’s drink. Mayhap ye should give me the key until ye return.”

“Oh, aye.” Tormod searched through a ring of keys for the right one. Removing it, he held it up but then said, “There are things I’ll need to talk to ye and Lady Edith about when I get back. Things ye should ken now Brodie is dead.”

Nodding, Niels took the key. “We’ll talk when ye return,” he assured him and then added a solemn, “Safe journey.”

“Aye, and ye all stay safe here too, m’lord.” Tormod said grimly. “It bears considering that now that ye’ve married our lady, ye may be a target as well.”

Niels stiffened in surprise at the suggestion, but then nodded slowly and turned to walk over to collect Edith. Ronson glanced up sleepily as they approached. Seeing them coming, though, he prodded Laddie to wake him and then grabbed his collar to urge him up and off the furs and out of the way.

Edith murmured sleepily when Niels carefully picked her up, but didn’t fully wake.

“I’ll bring the furs up,” Niels heard Alick whisper behind him as he turned to head for the stairs.

Niels wasn’t surprised when all three of his brothers followed him above stairs and to Edith’s room. He laid her in the bed, covered her with the bed linens and then helped Alick arrange the furs over that before moving to the door with them.

“Tormod is right,” Rory said pausing at the door and turning back to face him worriedly. “Ye could be a target too now that ye married Edith.”

Niels shrugged. “And as we learned from Moibeal and Effie, just being here could get a person poisoned or killed.”

Geordie scowled. “We really need to come up with a better plan than just to try to keep Edith safe. We need to catch this bastard.”

“I am open to suggestions,” Niels said quietly. “But no’ until after I’ve slept. I am too tired to think straight just now.”

“Aye, get some rest,” Rory said, turning to open the door. “We’ll all talk once ye’ve had some sleep.”

Niels grunted in agreement, held the door as his brothers left and then closed it quietly and moved back to the bed. He’d intended to remove Edith’s gown after the men left so that she might sleep more comfortably, but in the end he didn’t even bother to remove his own clothes. He simply lay down on top of the furs and was asleep the moment his head hit the bed.