“I feel sorry for the boy.”
“As do I.”Fergus sighed and shed his boots.“She gave no consideration to the fact that he stood there, that he could hear her words.When they arrived, she did not spare a thought to his discomfort or his hunger.”He shook his head.“Her disinterest in the welfare of her own son is most troubling.”He unbuckled his belt and unwound his plaid, granting her a smile that warmed her to her toes.“I am sorry for her words this day, Leila, but she will be gone in the morning at least.”
“I doubt her claim will be dismissed that easily,” Leila could not help but say.Fergus granted her an enquiring glance.“I wonder what she said to Stewart when she left.Will he welcome her back to Dunnisbrae?”
“If he does not, it has been her own doing.”He shed his chemise and came to take her in his arms.His caress was welcome and his touch warm.He touched his lips to her temple in that gentle way that awakened the heat within Leila, and drew her against himself.He speared his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back, smiling down at her.“Matters could have gone much further awry this night,” he murmured.“Yet we defeated her scheme for we worked together.”
“Do you ask if I mean to welcome you abed this night, my lord?”Leila asked with a smile.
“I do, my lady.”
“You are always welcome in my bed, Fergus.”
“And you, Leila, are always welcome in mine.”Fergus bent to capture her lips with his own and Leila stretched to her toes to welcome him.Just before their lips touched, someone hammered on the solar door.
“My lord!”Murdoch said in his familiar growl.“My lord, you must come.It is Lady Isobel!”
“I will not tolerate any interruption from her,” Fergus said firmly and did not relinquish his grip upon Leila.
“But, sir, she sent the boy to say that she was ill.He seems most upset.”
“God in Heaven,” Fergus whispered.“Is there no limit to her disregard for the child?”
They both seized their cloaks and boots.Fergus raced down the stairs, calling for aid, and Leila followed as quickly as she could, wondering what Isobel had done.
Perhaps the portent of Fergus’ nightmare had not been dispelled, after all.
Isobel was not ill: she was dead.
Fergus and Leila entered the hut, Murdoch and the Templars close behind.Gavin was kept at the portal by the knights, but Fergus knew he had already seen the worst.Fergus crouched beside Isobel’s body, noting her grimace and the contortion of her posture.He wondered that she had made a choice that led to a death of such pain.
Leila was at the far wall, surveying the midwife’s herbs.Fergus did not recall that they had been in such disarray when he had been in the hut earlier.
There was something clasped in Isobel’s hand.He uncurled her fingers to reveal the root there.Clearly, she had bitten part of it.Leila bent to sniff it, then looked at Fergus.
“Do you know what it is?”he asked.
“The scent is familiar, I think.”She gestured and Fergus sniffed the root himself, then sat back on his heels again.
“Monkshood?”he guessed.
Leila nodded.“I believe so.”
“How strange that she and Kerr would be felled by the same toxin.”
“Not so strange as that, for it is a poison of high repute and grows in most climes.”Leila glanced around the hut.“I would wager that every healer across the breadth of Christendom and all the way to China has monkshood amongst his or her collection.”
“Why would Isobel kill herself?And why in such a painful manner?”Fergus shook his head.“I cannot understand it.She did not seem so troubled when I left her.”
“What was her mood?”
“She was angry because I denied her desire to remain in the hall, and because I refused to acknowledge Gavin as my son.Her will had been denied.”He raised his gaze to that of his wife.“I would have expected her to do injury to me, or even to you, but not to herself.”
Leila bit her lip as she thought.“Was she learned in the use of herbs?”
“Not when I left these parts but it has been four years.She would not be the first woman to find an interest in the healing arts after bearing a child.”
“Nay, she would not.”Leila looked skeptical, and Fergus thought it unlikely that Isobel would have shown the patience to study any art.He could not think of a way to say as much without speaking ill of the dead, but he had always found her attention to be short-lived.
