Page 12 of Highland Guard

Joan cursed and took a deep drink of cider. “Who?”

“I dinnae ken.” Annys sighed. “I still struggle to understand it e’en though I believe that is what happened. What Sir Callum said held the ring of truth and I ken that he has a verra sharp wit, yet I cannae think of any of our people who would e’er help Adam. And most certainly nary a one who would help him kill David.”

“Nor can I.” Joan muttered a curse. “If I find one helping that bastard, ye willnae have to fret o’er them betraying us again. I promise ye that.”

“So bloodthirsty,” Annys murmured, a little amused by Joan’s ferocity.

“I feel so when I think on it. The laird was taken from us much too soon. If one of our own sent him off to an early grave then I will be verra pleased to see to it that they rot in hell.”

This time Annys was stunned by the fury in Joan’s voice. The woman actually trembled from the strength of it. She knew all of the people of Glencullaich had cared for their laird but she now had to wonder if her maid, her dearest friend, had cared far more than most, more than as a sister cares for her sibling.

“Joan? Did ye love David?” she asked, keeping her tone of voice as soft and gentle as she could.

“Of course I did. He was my laird.” She looked at Annys and briefly laughed. “Och, nay as ye are now thinking. Nay, there was no lust in my love for David, no fire in the blood. I thought ye kenned my love was that of a friend, e’en of a sister.”

“I did but, for just a moment, I thought I may have been wrong.”

“Nay. I have a few years on ye, m’lady, and ken weel what a gift Sir David was, what a good mon and good laird. A rare thing, and trust me to ken the truth of that. If some fool nudged that good, kind mon into an early grave to please that bastard Sir Adam or gain a few coins for their purse, they didnae just betray the laird. Or ye. They betrayed every mon, woman, and child in Glencullaich.”

Annys nodded slowly as she considered those words. “Aye, that is exactly what they did.” She sighed. “Weel, unless someone wishes to come forth and confess all, we shall ne’er ken the truth. Aye, poisoning makes sense to me, explains so much about David’s illness that I just couldnae understand, but proving it now that David is dead and buried is impossible. Och, we could only have proven it when he was alive by the way he would have been cured or by catching the one who did it slipping the poison into his food or drink.”

“I will still watch closely for the one who may have done it. If that one could kill a good mon for that wretched Sir Adam, who kens what else the bastard is capable of?”

“True. I will watch as weel although I think ye will have better luck because ye are nay the laird’s wife. I but appear and whoe’er did this will be fully on his guard.”

“I am nay so far from being treated the same, but I ken better who to trust amongst the ones who would have had the chance to do it. I ken better who to watch as weel.”

“Do ye have some suspicions, Joan?”

“I cannae think of one amongst the men but there is a lass or two I will be watching. I think that is where the danger is. Some fool lass who believes herself in love or enough so that she heeds every lie told her by Sir Adam or one of his men.”

Annys was choked by sadness for a moment. It was not just because David had been murdered by one of his own people, people he had treated well, but it could have been the result of some foolish young woman’s seduction. How anyone at Glencullaich could ever believe that David deserved the painful, lingering death he had suffered, no matter what some handsome man promised, she did not know. Nor could she think of any woman at the keep who could be so easily swayed by some man’s lies.

“It is too sad to think on,” she murmured. “Poor David ne’er did anything that would make anyone here think him so bad that he deserved that death.”

“Some lasses can believe anything if the mon they desire tells them it. But, aye, it is unbearably sad that our laird would die because one lass is too witless to ken what are lies and what is truth. Whene’er I think on it, I want to beat the guilty one until they are naught but a pile of shattered bone.”

“Find her, Joan. Or him, although I believe ye are right in what ye think concerning the killer.”

“I will and I swear I will nay kill her but bring her to face justice.”

“Good. I truly need to hear the why nay matter how witless it may prove to be.

“There are times when I dearly wish Nigel didnae die o’er there in France, and nay just because he was also too young to die. But I would have wed with him as I was supposed to, David would still live, and”—she lowered her voice—“I wouldnae be part of a plan to deny a verra good mon his son.”

“True enough but ye wouldnae have Benet now, either, would ye?”

Annys softly cursed. “Nay, I wouldnae and I would ne’er wish him gone. Weel, with that thought in my head, I will now go and clean up. Mayhap see what is being done with our defenses,” she said as she stood up and brushed off her skirts.

“The men are verra pleased with all the training they are getting for all they like to groan and complain about the work and the bruises. We have been blessed in how peaceful we have had it here but this trouble has let us see that we have let that blessing make us soft. We willnae be any longer.”

“That is a comfort. One has to wonder what sorts of life Sir Harcourt and the others have led, however, that has made them so knowledgeable about good fighting and good defenses.”

“Just one that was lived in a place which isnae so cleverly out of sight as we are. Go on, I will direct the lasses in finishing the work.”

Annys left Joan to order the younger women around, something she knew her maid got a great deal of pleasure out of doing. Although everyone called Annys my lady, she was not so vain as to think that meant that she actually held all the power at Glencullaich. Joan held a lot of it in her work-worn hands as well.

Ordering some heated water on her way up to her bedchamber, Annys began to wonder if Joan would be able to find the one who killed David. She was not even certain how one could winnow the guilty out of the herd. The killer had escaped any justice for months, escaped even being caught as she killed her laird. That amount of cleverness did not match with the image of some silly love-stricken lass doing anything her lover asked.