“He would have felt tired, slightly unwell, perhaps dizzy. But he would have thought it fatigue, or perhaps stress…”
Baird closed his eyes for a brief moment. He remembered Malcolm’s pallor the last week and some complaints about waking with a tightness in his chest. Baird had told him he needed sleep.
Sleep.
He opened his eyes again, feeling steel in his bones. “Have ye told anyone else these findings?”
“Nay,” the healer divulged. “Only Captain Kenny. And now ye, me laird.”
“Good.” Baird’s voice was controlled and deadly calm. “Keep it that way.”
Kenny straightened, understanding the shift in the air. “What’s yer plan, me laird?”
He didn’t answer immediately. He stepped to the narrow window, staring into the dark courtyard below. Someone in his walls had murdered Malcolm, someone who believed they could strike the Kincaids from within, someone who might be watching still and listening.
He turned back to them, with an expression that seemed carved in stone.
“Finding the traitor becomes our first priority,” he ordered. “Nay one breathes a word of this beyond this room. If the scum thinks we’re blind, they may slip.”
Kenny nodded. “I’ll tighten the guard rotations, quietly.”
“Dae it.” Baird adjusted the dagger at his belt. “And keep eyes on the Council, every one of them.”
Kenny hesitated. “Ye think it’s one of them?”
Baird’s jaw flexed. “I think the poisoner needed freedom tae move. Freedom usually comes with authority, and that would provide them with access tae me braither’s meals. Malcolm wasnae careless. Someone made him vulnerable.”
The healer bowed again. “I’ll continue me tests, me laird.”
“Good. Report tae me alone.” Baird dismissed him with a nod.
When the healer left, Kenny stepped closer. “Me laird… this is heavy news.”
“Aye,” Baird said, feeling as if an invisible hand was stabbing him in the gut over and over again, without any intention of stopping. “He was murdered under me roof, while I was looking straight past him.”
“It’s nae yer fault,” Kenny insisted.
But Baird’s eyes darkened. “Then whose is it? Malcolm trusted me. He trusted this house, which turned out tae be his grave.”
“Aye,” Kenny agreed, “someone poisoned him. A coward with access and intent. But that’s the bastard’s sin, nae yers.”
Baird didn’t speak. Inside of him, anger, grief and shame tortured him with their daggers.
Kenny went on. “Ye’re the laird, aye. But ye’re nae God. Ye cannae be everywhere at once. Ye cannae see every dark thought hiding in a man’s skull.”
“I should’ve seensomething,” Baird snapped, lifting his head sharply. “I should’ve kept him safer. Should’ve—” His voice cracked. “I was meant tae protect him.”
“And ye did,” Kenny said firmly. “All his life, ye did. Malcolm wasnae a bairn, me laird. He was a grown man. He made his own choices. Nay one expects ye tae have eyes in the back of yer skull.”
Baird stared at the lantern flame, with its thin, trembling light reflecting in his eyes. It flickered too much like Malcolm’s life.
Kenny stepped closer. “Listen tae me. Ye’re carrying guilt fer something that was never yers tae bear.”
Baird clenched his hand in his lap. “It feels like mine.”
“I ken, but feelings are nae truth.” He then clapped a hand to Baird’s shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, me laird. One step at a time. But dinnae ye dare think Malcolm would want ye miserable fer the rest of yer days. Stop punishing yerself fer things beyond yer control.”
Baird looked away. “I’ll try.”
