With the exception of her interest in him.
Unless, her interest in him had been short-lived and then reborn upon his return.He frowned, not liking Isobel’s death even though he had found her irksome.It seemed to Fergus that even their dispute was no cause for her to wish to die.
“You should ask the boy what she did at the end,” Leila counseled quietly.
Fergus met her gaze.“You think you know.”
“I merely guess.”His wife straightened, her thoughts hidden from him once more.Fergus wondered in that moment what it would take for Leila to open herself to him fully.He wished he knew, for he would do it.“The boy may know more than he realizes,” she added gently.
“I will take her to Dunnisbrae at first light,” Fergus rose to his feet as he spoke to the Templars.He heard Leila swiftly inhale, but her gaze was averted.“She must be laid to rest with her kin, Leila.Surely you see as much.Dunnisbrae was her father’s holding and that of his father before him.Her brother is laid to rest there, as well.”
“Of course.You must show every consideration to Lady Isobel.”
There was a curious note in Leila’s tone.Was she jealous?Fergus hoped she was, for he would be glad to see their relationship deepen beyond affection into love.He could not see her features, for she was drawing a cloak over Isobel’s face.He wished there was time to discuss all the details with her, but that would have to wait until his return.
In this moment, there were obligations to be fulfilled.He addressed the Templars.“We depart for Dunnisbrae at first light.See that no one enters the hut until then.”
“Aye, my lord,” agreed Yvan.
“We?”repeated Enguerrand, his gaze flicking to Leila.She stood a little straighter but pretended not to have noted his comment.“I must remain at Killairic.As you can surely guess, this disruption to the routine offers opportunities.”
Fergus sighed.“Then you must remain, of course, Enguerrand.”
Leila was again inscrutable and had stepped back into the shadows to watch and listen.Fergus changed to Gaelic to address the boy, ensuring that he blocked the view of the corpse.“Gavin, can you tell me if your mother said anything after my departure?”he asked.Gavin swallowed, his gaze clinging to his mother’s body.He seemed to have been struck dumb.Fergus guided him outside of the hut and crouched down before him there, repeating his question.
“She told me to run to the keep and tell you that she was sick,” Gavin provided.“But she was not sick.I said so, and she said I was wrong.She ate it.”His face crumpled as he fought tears.“Then shewassick.”
“The root in her hand?”
The boy nodded.
Fergus recalled well enough the speed with which monkshood did its deadly business.“Where did she get it?”
“She smelled the herbs after you left and found it there.”
“Was your mother a healer?”
The boy shook his head, his eyes wide.“Nay, sir.It is Helga at Dunnisbrae who tends the sick.”
“Did your mother name the root she ate?”
The boy shook his head again.
Was it possible that Isobel had chosen a root on a whim and had the misfortune to choose the most toxic one?Or had she been intent upon destroying Fergus’ happiness, because he had denied her?He could not say, but the shadow of dream seemed very dark in this moment.He sent the boy to the kitchens with Murdoch, for he knew he would be treated with care there.Fergus stood outside the hut, considering his course, then Leila joined him.He told her what the boy had said.
Leila nodded.“Was she sufficiently angry to kill herself in order to cause you trouble?”
“Who can say?”
“I did not know her, but she did not strike me as a woman who would willingly endure such torment.There were other herbs that would have been more kind.”
“What else was there?”
“There was the milk of poppies, which surprised me.I know it well from home.It offers a gentle death.One sleeps deeply and, with sufficient dosage, never awakens.”
“She might not have known it.”Fergus nodded.“I will ask this Helga, the healer of Dunnisbrae, when I take Isobel’s body home.”
Leila frowned.“Are you certain you must take her there yourself?”
