“You do, Laurie. You just don’t want to say it.” Brodie sank back onto the window seat, and just as she had in her old chamber, she wrapped her arms around Brodie as he leaned his head against her middle. They remained silent, each lost in thought, but comforted by the other’s presence. When Brodie could no longer keep his thoughts to himself without going mad, he asked Laurel, “Do I tell Dominic?”
“Not yet, Brodie. He loves her. He won’t believe you.” Laurel ran her hand over Brodie’s back. “Would you believe him if he accused me of such things?”
“No,” Brodie admitted. “Do you think he’s aware?”
“I don’t know. He hasn’t been warm to me, but I don’t get the impression that he’d hurt his own mother.”
“Nay. He wouldn’t. We were both close to Mother, especially once Father died. We adored her. Her death devastated him.”
“And Colina was right there to comfort him.”
“Aye. We thought she shared our grief. I admit I was even jealous that Dom had someone to turn to, and I didn’t.”
“Then, you can’t say aught until it’s irrefutable.”
A thought struck Laurel as she considered why she’d sought Brodie out. “Has Colina taken an interest in aught at all aboot the running the keep?”
“Only the wine. She’s very particular aboot it. Dom calls it that, anyway. I call it pretentious.”
“Is she just interested, or is she involved with the wine?”
“She selects what’s served, but I don’t think she speaks to Cal aboot it.”
“Fuck.”
“Laurel,” Brodie gasped.
“You’re not the only one who kens the word,” Laurel said with a shrug. “I was coming up here to tell you, Aggie and I found tampered with wine. At least three casks. When I was looking around the other day, I noticed a funny smell from a few. Aggie told me they were newer vintages, so there wasn’t a reason for them to be putrid already. I poured one out, and Declan smashed it open for me. There was tar at the bottom of the barrel. The casks we found them in were small. The kind that fit on a shelf and would last a night or two. Awkward, but Aggie carried one, and I carried two. Colina could have managed at least one. Brodie, if she mixed the poisoned wine with pure wine, it would mask the taste enough for people to drink it. It wouldn’t taste right, but no one would complain at the table. A couple nights of that, and we’d all be dead.”
“Dominic doesn’t drink wine. Ever.” Brodie shook his head. “We drank ourselves sick when we were younger. Ever since then, Dominic heaves at even the taste of it.”
“So Colina wouldn’t have to worry aboot explaining to Dominic why he shouldn’t drink the wine.”
“Where are the casks now?
“In the undercroft’s grain storeroom. I had Declan place them on the top shelf. Just aboot any mon could reach them, but no woman could. I couldn’t, and I’m taller than most.”
“Do you think there are others?” Brodie was growing more and more concerned by what he heard.
“Possibly. But three of those would be enough to poison everyone at the high table over the course of a few days.”
“Show me.”
Laurel led Brodie to the undercroft, showing him the hidden casks first before taking him to the buttery. They inspected each barrel and cask, but found nothing obviously tampered with. But Brodie voiced Laurel’s concern. They might need to dump all their wine in case Colina had sabotaged more, and they just couldn’t smell it. They walked into the Great Hall together, both somber and deep in thought. Laurel shook herself from her stupor, knowing it was Monty and Donnan’s last night at Kilchurn. They’d stayed on to ensure Laurel was safe, and Brodie gratefully added the partners to Laurel’s guard rotation. Now Laurel realized how much she would miss her brother and her friend. She could only truly trust Brodie, and she’d made no friends yet. The days grew infinitely longer.
