Child of the Mist (32 page)

When her bath was done, she dressed in a simple gown of deep blue wool, then hurried to the chest where she kept her herbal medicines. Not bothering to hide her actions from Agnes, she began to carry the jars to the privy, where she dumped their contents down the long chute. Her task, painful as it was, was carried out with a resolute determination. Only when Anne reached the last of the jars did her resolve waver.

The container of dried foxglove caught her gaze. She had gathered the potent leaves under Ena's watchful eye. Under that same thorough tutelage, Anne had learned of the plant's curative, if sometimes deadly, powers. Holding the jar up now for a final, regretful appraisal, her heart skipped a beat.

She'd put the container away full and had never had the opportunity to use any of the plant, since she'd soon thereafter given her word to Niall not to perform her healing. But the jar was now half empty. There was enough foxglove missing to kill twenty men.

Anne's throat went dry. She rose on unsteady legs. The jar clasped in her hand, she went to seek Agnes.

The old maidservant was next door in Niall's bed-chamber, sprinkling sweet woodruff on the freshly laid rushes. Anne crossed the room to shut the door, then returned to Agnes's side. She held up the jar of foxglove.

"Have you taken any o' this plant for some ailment, whether yours or some other's?" Anne demanded, her heart now pounding in her chest. "If so, tell me true, Agnes. There will be no punishment."

Agnes's eyes widened. She vehemently shook her head. "Nay, m'lady. I've never been in that chest. I know naught o' the healing art and would never presume to treat anyone from it."

"This jar is half empty. The last time I looked in my chest, 'twas full."

"Truly, m'lady. I havena knowledge o' such things."

Anne sighed. She trusted the old woman, yet someone had taken the leaves. But who? And why?

"Have you seen any looking in my chest, Agnes?"

"Nay, m'lady."

"Then who has access to this room? Who could come in here and not be found suspicious? I
must
discover who took these leaves."

Agnes pondered that for a moment. "Almost any o' the female household staff. And even, on occasion, some of the male staff, as well. Like just now, when they removed the old rushes and brought in fresh ones. We rarely lock the chambers in Kilchurn."

"Aye, that I know," Anne muttered, remembering Caitlin's unexpected, and most unappreciated, arrival in Niall's bedchamber yesterday morning.

Uneasiness crept through her as she headed to the privy with the jar. Mayhap it was just a well-intentioned servant bent on curing some relative of the dropsy. There were others who knew the healing art besides her and Ena. Mayhap the servant had come upon her chest of herbs one day by accident and had merely helped herself to some of the drugs there. Until she'd reached the foxglove, Anne really hadn't paid much attention to the exact amounts left in the jars. Mayhap that servant had taken samples of most of the chest's contents.

But what if there were nothing missing but the foxglove? And what if the leaves had been stolen for more sinister purposes? There was no known antidote to the plant's heart slowing and eventual heart-stopping effects. Only time and the body's own abilities to rid itself eventually of the drug could save a victim of overdose. And only if that overdose were discovered and halted in time.

A shiver of fear rippled through Anne.
Och, Blessed Mary, don't let my herbs be an instrument o' someone's death!
she prayed.
Not now, not when my position in
Clan Campbell is yet so precarious
. It would be the end o' everything. Everything.

Anne quickly finished disposing of the remaining herbs. Then grabbing up a trowel that she slipped into a fold of her skirt, she made her way back to Niall's room. Agnes glanced up from her sprinkling of the last of the sweet woodruff.

"Where are ye going, m'lady?"

Though she didn't wish to alarm the old woman, Anne knew it would be wise to let someone know where she was headed. "I go to my herb garden in the forest. I won't be there long."

Agnes frowned. "Ye shouldna go alone. Let me accompany ye."

"Nay." Anne firmly shook her head. "I'll be careful. If I'm not back within the hour, you can tell Niall."

"An hour is time enough for harm to befall ye," the maidservant muttered. "At least take Angus, the stable man. He willna talk about what he sees. He and Maudie are too grateful for what ye did for their wee Davie."

Anne sighed and nodded her acquiescence. "As you wish. I'll fetch him on my way out o' the castle."

Agnes's look of relief was enough to make Anne smile. "I'm a trial to you at times, aren't I? I'd imagine the other Anne never gave you a moment's trouble."

The old woman grinned. "Well, she wasna as headstrong nor impulsive. But then she didna have yer fire or fierce spirit, either. Ye're a different woman, to be sure, but as perfect a mate for the Campbell as they come. So, dinna concern yerself with another woman's ghost. The young lord loves ye for yer own self. There's naught more that matters."

Anne sighed. "He hasn't said he loves me, Agnes. His affection for me runs no deeper than that o' the flesh. Not that I'm complaining," she hastened to add. "What he does give me is wonderful. But I don't know if he'll ever love me. I think that emotion may have died with his first wife."

"And I say ye are mistaken, lassie. What the young lord truly feels and what he recognizes can be two different things. I have known him since he was a lad, and I tell ye true. He is happier now, even in the midst o' all these troubles, than he has been since the Lady Anne died. He loves ye, and no mistake. He'll see it soon enough."

At Agnes's words, a fierce joy leaped within Anne. Her eyes glowed with a warm, sweet fire.

"I pray your words come to pass," she murmured. "But, in the meanwhile, I can't stand idly by and allow others to control our lives. I must do all within my power to help Niall. And the one thing more that needs tending to is my herb garden"

Squaring her slender shoulders, Anne headed for the door in a determined flurry of skirt and petticoats. Agnes stood there, staring after her, a fistful of sweet woodruff still clenched in her hand.

Nelly saw Anne leave. A pleased smile twisted the corners of her darkly pretty face. The MacGregor wench was naively unaware that her every movement was being watched. Watched, weighed, and reported back to Nelly's master. He'd paid her well, in and out of bed, to spy on Anne. And it had been money easily earned. As easy as was the theft of the foxglove leaves from the chest in her bedchamber.

Keeping to the shadows as best she could, Nelly followed Anne and the stable man out of the castle and into the forest, until she was certain of the other woman's eventual destination.
The fool,
Nelly thought as she slipped away as unnoticed as she'd come. The wench assumed everyone was unaware of that herb garden of hers.

Well, it had served her master's purpose to let her think so up until this moment. But when Nelly supplied him with the news Anne was there now, mayhap this time it could finally be used to her downfall. Mayhap she could at last convince her master to kill the MacGregor wench. A crossbow's quarrel straight through her heart would leave no witness or suspect.

Then Nelly could devote all her efforts to comforting the bereaved clan chief. Her smile widened. She could almost feel Niall's large, hard-muscled body shuddering atop hers, hear his cry of passion as he found his release. Nelly's pace quickened.
That
particular errand of mercy would be very, very sweet indeed!

Niall's first order of the day was to find Iain. Though he loathed attempting to apologize a second time, he had promised Anne and would see it through. Summoning up the right amount of enthusiasm would be another matter. Not that he wasn't sincerely grateful to Iain for rescuing Anne from Malcolm's foul clutches. His uncle would be seen to later and receive a stern warning, with dire consequences if it happened again.

But to feel any warmth for Iain or dare lower his guard was out of the question. Though Niall knew it was foolhardy to suspect his cousin to the exclusion of all others, it still served him better to have Iain gone from Kilchurn. If nothing else, he didn't need the added distraction of Iain panting after Anne.

Aye, it was far wiser to send him away, Niall resolved. What went against his grain was having to thank his cousin in one breath then in the next order him back to Balloch Castle. Unintended or not, of late he was beginning to feel the fool in nearly all his interactions with his family.

Frustration rolled within him as he strode across the Great Hall. A fool indeed . . . And he had the traitor to thank for that.

Iain was in the library, according to a passing servant Niall questioned. He took the steps to the first landing in several quick strides, then stalked down the hall.

The blond man glanced over his shoulder when Niall entered the room. A wary look narrowed his deep blue eyes. He replaced a leather-bound volume on the shelf, then turned to meet him.

Niall inhaled a steadying breath and approached his cousin. "My gratitude to you yestereve was lacking. I truly thank you for helping Anne."

"She's in grave danger here," Iain said flatly, dispensing with the amenities. "You should let her go. Now, before 'tis too late."

Niall's features hardened into a mask of cynical incredulity. "And who are you to tell me what to do with her? If you recall,
I
am the one handfasted to Anne, not you!"

"Yet it seems I am the one most concerned about her welfare," Iain shot back. "If you weren't so stubborn, you might see that. She isn't some prize to be held, no matter the cost. Anne is a living, breathing woman with a life to lose."

"And you doubt my ability to keep her safe?"

Iain saw the anger darken Niall's eyes. He knew he trod on dangerous ground. For Anne's sake, though, Niall must be made to face the reality of her danger.

"You saw how difficult 'twas to win the council over, how many were willing, nay, eager, to attack you. And the strongest argument o' all was the allegation o' Anne's witchcraft. Those aren't accusations you can choose or not choose to deal with in your woman, like infidelity or barrenness. If she's convicted, she's in violation o' the lawand the punishment is a horrible, painful death!"

''I don't need you telling me the obvious," Niall gritted. "I told you. I'll take care o' her!"

"And if you fail, what then, Niall?"

"It won't happen!"

Iain took a step closer and gazed into Niall's eyes. "If it does, I swear I'll kill you."

Niall returned the look of deadly earnestness. "You'll never have that opportunity. I'll be dead before I let anything happen to her."

His cousin gave a mocking laugh. "Indeed, you might be, but then what will become o' Anne, alone, at the mercy o' her enemies?" He gripped Niall's arm. "Send her away before that happens, Niall. Swear to me you'll at least do that!"

Hesitation flickered in Niall's eyes. What if Iain's dire predictions came to pass? If the traitor found some way to kill him, what
would
become of Anne?

Duncan would be chief and Duncan, at the very least, disliked Anne. Would the fanatical ravings of his half brother, Malcolm, influence Duncan against her? And if Hugh was brought back from exile. . . .

Of all his family, Iain was the only one who seemed truly to care for Anne. Niall knew that with a sudden certainty that startled him. Cared for her above and beyond whatever use he might have for her in his role as traitor. If something happened to him, Anne would be safe with Iain.

But even to consider the thought of giving Anne over to him! Niall knew Anne cared for Iain, if only in a sisterly fashion. But that could change, given time and his absence.

Iain was a devastatingly handsome and charming man. The trail of broken hearts, however unintentional, his blond cousin always left in his wake was ample testimony to that. Aye, Anne could well come to love Iain. But to imagine her with another, whispering her love as she lay naked in his arms . . . Lord, it was like a knife gutting his insides!

Yet the time might well come when he'd have to let her go. To save her life, he'd do anything, even if it meant giving her up. But that time had yet to arrive, Niall reminded himself, and he'd not give Iain the pleasure or any premature advantage over him by admitting that possibility.

He was now the Campbell. Now was not the time to show weakness or hesitation. Not to Iain, or anyone!

Niall shook his head, a fierce, shuttered look settling over his features. I won't swear that or anything to you, cousin. Though your concern for Anne is commendable, if concern is truly what 'tis, it changes naught. She is mine, and mine she will remain."

"And that is all you have to say? All you will do?"

"Aye, for the time being."

"You're a fool, Niall Campbell!"

Niall took a step forward. "Nay, Iain," he said softly, a savage light in his eyes. "You're the fool, for you've finally gone too far. Get you to Balloch Castle this very day or I'll send you to the dungeon."

Iain opened his mouth to challenge Niall, then thought better of it. If he were drawn into a battle with the Campbell, a battle he might well lose even if it were but of words, Anne would ultimately be the one to suffer. And, in the end, this was all about her welfare.

Better to make a strategic retreat, lull Niall into a false sense of victory. It was a bitter pill to swallow, backing down from a man he felt the match of, but Iain knew where his priorities lay. Anne's life was of more import than his pride.

Free, he could still be of use to her. Clapped in chains in Kilchurn's dungeon, he was helpless. Iain forced a grim smile to his face. " 'Twill be as you say, m'lord," he said, bowing low. "This very day I leave for Balloch Castle."