“Small sips,” he advised. “Yer stomach is empty. Ye will feel weak, and probably queasy. We daenae want ye vomitin’ again.”
“I ken, I ken. I’m a healer, remember?” she shot back a little snippily.
He sat down again, grinning, unperturbed by her sharpness. “Aye, but healin’ others is very different from healin’ oneself. It’s easy to brush away somebody else’s pain and discomfort.”
“Ineverbrush away somebody’s pain.”
He considered her for a long moment.
“Nay,” he said at last. “I daenae imagine that ye do. Go on, then. Ye were goin’ to tell me the last thing ye remember.”
She let out a shaky breath. The few sips of water tasted delicious, cool and fresh on her tongue, bringing a rush of strength.
“I went down to the kitchen to fetch Laurie’s shortbread. She wanted to eat some before bed.”
His gaze sharpened. “And then what?”
“I ate one meself. They looked so delicious. But the taste was bad, it was off, somehow. I remember thinkin’ that perhaps they were stale, or perhaps the cook had forgotten the sugar. Anyway, I decided that Laurie shouldnae eat them, and I threw them away. That’s the last thing I remember. After that…” She frowned, narrowing her eyes. “I think I remember feelin’ ill, then nothin’.”
He gave a curt nod, as if she’d said exactly what he expected. “That makes sense. As I said, ye had vomited and collapsed.”
She picked at the edges of a rich blanket, pleating the valuable material into countless little folds. “So I ate bad shortbread?”
“That’s one possibility. Another possibility is that ye were poisoned.”
She sucked in a breath. “Ah.”
“Ye daenae seem surprised.”
She shrugged. “Eatin’ somethin’ harmful can cause symptoms similar to those of poisonin’. Folks have died from eating bad meat.”
“So they have. But then they only have themselves to blame, themselves and bad luck,” he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “We are afraid that this poisonin’ was deliberate. I’ve never ken anybody get so ill from bad shortbread.”
“Nor have I,” she admitted. “If it were a deliberate poisonin’, what would be the reason for it? I daenae understand.”
He shrugged broad shoulders. “Either somebody wanted to kill me sister, or somebody wanted to kill ye. Which, of course, would only lead to their death. Whoever poisoned ye will be treadin’ very carefully right about now. They will nae wish to be discovered.”
A shudder rolled through Nora’s body. Goosebumps rose up on her arms, revealed by the nightgown sleeves, which only came to her elbows. “The shortbread was made for Laurie. Surely ye daenae think thatIcould have been the target?”
Creighton weighed this thought for a moment before answering.
“That is true, but it all seemed very purposeful. Laurie’s nurse was struck with a sudden bad stomach and was unable to get the shortbread herself. She had eaten sparingly at the eveningmeal with the other servants, and nothing seemed to have gone bad. Nobody else had a bad stomach, and if it was indeed bad food, we’d have seen more illness. I cannae decide who the target truly was here. Perhaps both of ye. I cannae afford to rule out anythin’.”
Swallowing, Nora tucked her cold arms under the blankets. “Have ye investigated? Does anybody ken anythin’?”
He shook his head. “All of the maids were questioned. Apparently, Laurie’s shortbread was made with the rest of the food and sent up to the feastin’ table by mistake. It was still there. Where the poisoned shortbread came from is anybody’s guess. Nobody saw anythin’. Did ye see anyone in the kitchen?”
“There was a wee boy sleepin’ by the fire, but he was sound asleep.”
Creighton nodded. “I ken the lad. He sleeps like the dead, and it would have been easy enough for somebody to creep around without wakin’ him. He was spoken to with the rest, and said that ye came in for the shortbread. He left before ye ate.”
“Aye, I remember.” Nora fell back against the pillows. Her heart was thumping powerfully at the simple movement. Why did she feel sodrained?
Will I be poisoned again?
The thought made her chest constrict, and a shudder rolled through her.
As if sensing her fear, Creighton got up from the chair, taking a few steps closer until he loomed over her bedside. Staring down at her, his face remained impassive, but his eyes were tight and almost angry.
