Page 3 of Forbidden Kilted Highlander

Agnes followed without thinking. The wind cut across her face, but she barely felt it. Her mind moved in tight, frantic circles. What had happened? What had Brodie meant when he said, Dinnae go? What had he seen?

The healer’s cottage smelled of dried herbs and old smoke. Tav laid Brodie on the cot while the healer moved with ruthless efficiency, checking his breath, peeling back an eyelid.

The sharp scent of herbs clung to Agnes’s hands as she leaned over Brodie’s cot, watching the tremor in his jaw settle into stillness. The healer, Mistress Gowan, pressed a cool cloth to the warrior’s brow with swift, practiced movements. Her mouth was a thin, pale line. Agnes mirrored her rhythm at his wrists, checking for the flutter of pulse beneath his damp skin, her fingers trembling.

“He’s been poisoned,” she said after a moment. “Nae fatal, but it’s nay ordinary illness. Something was slipped intae his food or drink. Maybe earlier this morning, maybe before that. There’s nay fever, nay sign of infection.”

Agnes’s stomach lurched. “Poisoned?”

Mistress Gowan gave her a brief, sharp nod. “Aye. And if one’s been poisoned, I’ll wager he’s nae the only one.”

Her voice rang with certainty, but the horror of it moved slowly through Agnes, as if her mind refused to accept it.

“Check the others,” the healer told Tav. “The ones who were tae escort the lady. If any others show signs, we need tae treat them now.”

Tav was already moving, shouting orders before he was even out the door.

Agnes stayed.

She pressed the cool cloth to Brodie’s forehead, ignoring the trembling in her fingers. Her body worked on instinct, as her thoughts circled back to the courtyard, to the moment his body had crumpled like an empty sack.

Why now?

Why him?

She had known Brodie for a long time and now he lay pale and still while the fire crackled low beside them.

The healer moved between them, murmuring something Agnes didn’t catch. A second later, the door slammed open.

Tav returned with two more guards in tow. One of them was already vomiting into the dirt just beyond the threshold, the other pale and sweating.

“Bloody hell,” the healer muttered. “Bring them in. Now.”

Agnes backed away, heart pounding, her breath catching as the second and third guards were laid on mats. The healer set to work immediately, directing the apprentices and mixing tinctures, her brow furrowed with urgency.

Agnes turned and stepped outside. The cold wind hit her like a slap, but it helped. She had to think.

She found her father near the stables, his face tight with fury and worry. He turned the second he saw her.

“Three guards down,” he said, voice low. “Poison.”

She nodded mutely.

“We’ll find out who did this,” he said. “Whoever snuck intae me keep and fed me men poison will answer fer it.”

His voice was steel, but his eyes flicked over her too quickly. He was worried for her.

“I can stay,” she offered quietly. “Delay the journey. Just a day or two. Until they recover. Until we find out if the danger’s passed.”

“Nay.”

The word landed like a blade.

She blinked. “But⁠—”

“It has tae be today, Agnes.”

She studied his face, and for the first time, something didn’t quite fit. His voice was too clipped, too rehearsed.