“May—”
“Is Luag Magrath here?” he overrode the woman who had answered the door.
“Magrath? I dinnae ken—”
Leith was off to the other cottage and banged on it. The shadows were heavy and the rain had already soaked through his clothes and down to his skin. The chill was setting in but his body was vibrating for another reason. He needed to have the healer there or he’d have to track him down and that would lose time for him and his father.
“What is—Young Lenichton?” a man huffed while tightening his plaid. “What is it? How can I help?”
“If Luag Magrath isnae here, ye cannea help me,” Leith said as he turned away.
“Magrath?” the man called, his voice a solid tug dragging Leith back. “A man named Magrath was here before me. He left to the town of Denwen a day ago. I’m sure ye’ll find him there, Sir.”
It was not what he wanted but it was the best thing he had heard. Magrath was not too far and if he rode hard and quick enough, he would get there by dawn, find the man and them come back.
“Thank ye,” he said.
“Sir!” the man called. “ ‘Tis a storm yer heading into, please stay here and ye can move out in the morn. Ye might die in this tempest.”
Cue to the man’s word, a jagged fork of blue lightning shot through the air and a thunderous clap followed it. Leith shook his head and headed out, calling over his shoulder, “I’ll take me chances.”
* * *
When Mary woke up, in what looked like the dimness of dawn, her throat felt like someone had shoved gravel down her windpipe. Her head was hurting as well because her “pillow” had been a stone wall.
Mary stood on weak legs and went to the stone door Finlay had locked behind her. She rose up to her toes to get to the tiny window there and called for someone. No one came and though her throat was raw and scratchy she called more. Her body felt weak and her head was beginning to spin.
“Jailer, please! Help!”
With no one coming to her aid, she sank to her knees again and cradled her head. She had not eaten from last night, as she had worked all day, and she had barely stomached anything before the ruckus in the great hall had her rushing in. Now her stomach felt sick and was on the verge of losing the meager contents. Bile was burning her throat as it came up but she swallowed it down.
Her head was hammering for another reason. She managed to press her head on the wall again, just for its coolness even though its texture was ripping her skin apart. She breathed through her nose, sucking in the stale air as much as she could.
The door was opened and the grate had her head pounding even more. She peeled her eyes open and saw a man she did not know, “I’m hungry, please give me some food.”
“I cannae miss,” the man said without a hint of sympathy. “I’m under orders from Lady Lenichton to nae give ye anything.”
Nothing? Nothing at all? This was a level of cruelty Mary had not expected from the woman who had given such a pious, caring sense.
Figures, my parents too were pious and caring and they betrayed me, so what less could I expect from those who are pious and caring.
Bitterly, Mary asked, “Not even water?”
“Nay miss, nae even that,” he said. “She says ye are to suffer for yer act of poisoning the Laird.”
“I did not…” she had to stop to swallow over a burning throat, “nothing of the sort. Please, I beg you, I just need water. Just water, please. Surely you can have some compassion.”
No change was in the man’s features and after looking at her impassively for a while, turned and walked out, closing the door after him. Mary could only bow her head. I’m going to die here.
Little light was coming in and what did come in barely fell to the ground. She saw thick dust motes hanging in the air. It was deathly quiet and the only sound she heard was the soft sounds of breaths. The skitter of a rat’s nails on the floor had her opening her eyes but the critter was gone before she could even see it.
Eventually, she slipped into a daze, not fully awake or fully asleep. She was worried, dearly bothered about everything, her situation, Leith, and Leith’s father. She began to feel that Lady Lenichton had hated her from the moment she had stepped into the castle. But if so, why had she given her the task to give her husband his daily meals?
Mayhap this is the second try to get rid of me…she had offered to marry me off before. But now…how did she know this was going to happen? Was her husband getting ill again just a happy chance for her to blame me? If not, what else would she have tried?
Her doze deepened. Now, she’s trying to get rid of me by starving me. She hates English people and she hates that I’m with her son even more. Leith did tell me she spoke to him about marrying a Scottish woman too. Is Cooper behind all this? He does have the power to influence her with his hatred.
Her mind wove through possibilities and underlying schemes that all coalesced into this mess. In the end, she was sure Nicolas Cooper was behind all this. The man was stealing Leith’s inheritance from him, influencing the people against his authority and was barefaced about hating those who were not Scottish. The Laird’s madness was what Cooper had used to take control.
He was absent but his plan was working. He’ll have me executed. The morning slipped by and by, the time ticking away slower than thick molasses. She
