“We will return to Lairig Dubh in two days,” he explained. “We’ll take the easier road back, but it’s time to return.”
No one said a word through the rest of the meal. Jamie’s strength gave out just after eating, so he went to his pallet. Though Dougal made them keep the door open when she was in the chamber with him, her brother did not restrict their movements otherwise. Just as she was leaving to seek her bed, he touched her leg, sending chills up through her.
If they married...
With a soft laugh, she shook herself from that path of thought. His injuries would prevent many things for a number of days.
“Tomorrow. It must be tomorrow,” he whispered.
How would they escape when he could barely move? But, from his expression she knew he would do whatever needed be done to get away.
How could she help? She nodded and began to leave, but not before spying the two bottles that Old Muireall left for her use. She did not say anything to Jamie because she was not certain what she could do. Elizabeth spent most of the night trying to come up with a plan and by morning she realized that her reputation for bad cooking would come in handy.
Chapter Twelve
The first sign that something was wrong was the loud, gurgling noises that echoed through the main room. Everyone ignored them at first, but soon all three of the men who’d eaten the stew Elizabeth had made for their midday meal were affected in the same way.
James had eaten only a thick porridge made from oats, since Elizabeth recommended it to him to regain his strength. He’d almost ignored her advice until she glared at him from behind Dougal’s back. Now, as the clear signs of impending distress grew stronger, he was glad he had.
Elizabeth, who had been cleaning the bedchamber and gathering her clothes while her brother and the others ate, entered the room then. She nodded with her head toward his chambers and he followed that advice, too. When she joined him on the pretense of helping him pack for the trip planned on the morrow, she wore a nefarious expression on her face.
“What did you do? Serve them spoiled meat?” he asked in a whisper.
“Spoiled meat? Nay,” she said, gathering the bags she’d already packed and bringing them to the door. “I used Old Muireall’s sleeping potion.” She pointed to the bottle still on the table there. Her eyes grew wide and she shook her head, looking horrified.
“A sleeping potion? That was a great idea,” he admitted. Easier to sneak away than to try to fight off the three warriors. If they slept or were at least groggy, they had a chance of escaping. “But the noises? Their stomachs?”
She faced him now and he knew something had gone wrong.
“I gave them her purgative by mistake, Jamie.”
From the sounds in the other room now, she’d given them a large dose of a powerful purgative. Dougal began to wail. Soon, all three men were in the throes of the effects of the medicine. James grimaced at the sounds until he heard the door crash open and all three ran out.
“Well, you cannot change it now. They will be unable to follow us? For some time?” he asked her.
“For hours and hours,” she said. “I never meant...”
“They’ve been in their cups before. It will not be much different from that. It gives us time to escape.” He bent to grab the bags from the floor but could lift only one. “And we will need an excess of time, it seems.”
“This will be more than that, Jamie. That medicine works in many ways.” His own stomach clenched then as he realized her meaning.
“They will live?”
She nodded, then continued to gather the important things that he could not lift and followed his slow pace out into the main room. Still deserted, they walked through and out. The horses had been hobbled in a small area behind the cottage, but they had to pass by Dougal, Niall and Shaw, who now writhed on the ground, to reach them.
“You did this on purpose, did you not, Elizabeth?” Dougal asked between retching.
“Dougal, I used the wrong potion. I am sorry,” she said as they walked by. “It will pass.” He could feel the pain and guilt in her voice. “Just do not drink anything but water until it does.”
“I was not taking you back to Connor, Elizabeth,” her brother moaned to them. “We were returning alone.” Any other questions were put aside as another wave of illness struck him.
James made his way to the horses and managed to get two of them saddled, but he was weak and sweating by the time he finished. To make it worse, the sounds from the three men were hard to ignore and soon he thought he would lose his meager meal, too. Elizabeth did not remain with her brother, instead she followed him back and helped him ready the horses.
It must have been an hour before he was able to mount the horse. First, they thought of riding together so she could support him. Then they discussed taking two horses to make better time once they left the area. In the end, they took two and they began with a very slow walk. Each step the horse took made his ribs feel like they were breaking again. Only the very tight bindings Elizabeth had placed this morn kept him upright.
When he felt like falling off and lying in the road, he thought of her. Concentrating on riding through the village, he ignored everything and everyone else they passed. James managed to get into the horse’s rhythm and moved with it, so that each pace was not as jarring. Soon, they reached the place in the road where Dougal and the others had caught them.
He listened every moment for the sound of horses behind them and only when the priest’s dwelling and small forest chapel came into view did he allow himself to think this might work. He heard Elizabeth at his side and continued until they reached the front of the cottage. James wanted to help Elizabeth down from her horse, but that was the last thought he remembered until he woke and found her and an old man staring down at him.
