Forgiving Hearts: Duncurra 1-3 (69 page)

“I am rid of ye at last.” Rhiannon stepped closer to the cliff and looked over the edge. She expected to see Fingal’s mangled corpse at the foot of the cliff but she didn’t. His bloodied body was caught upside down in another rowan tree about a third of the way down. He must have bounced against the rocks several times before being caught in the tree. His left arm hung at an odd angle, clearly broken. The back of his head was a bloody mess. From this distance she couldn’t tell if he was still breathing, but even if he was, he wouldn’t be for long. If he did manage to regain consciousness, he wouldn’t be able to climb out with that broken arm.

Just to be sure, she would send Coby back tonight to make sure he was dead. She just had one more thing to attend to. She walked past the spot where Con was tethered. It would be so much easier to simply ride him back and set him loose but she feared he would be found and a search would start for Eithne’s git before he had a chance to die—if he wasn’t already dead.

Nay, it would be better to leave him tethered here. She would try to eliminate any signs of their passing as she walked back to her cottage. Furthermore, it would look more like an accident if his horse was still tethered where he left the beast.

It was nearly midday when she reached her cottage. She gathered the supplies she needed then made her way to the keep as she had every day since Gillian had taken so ill. That lass had proven much stronger than she had hoped. Foxglove had an unusual spicy flavor. Putting enough of it in a tisane to kill someone instantly was hard to do as they would be unlikely to drink enough of it after tasting it. Small amounts of foxglove given regularly could kill a weak person fairly quickly. It had taken no time for Meara to succumb. In fact, it had happened a little too fast. That was the reason she had put very little in the herbs she first gave Gillian.

She had hoped Gillian would sicken and die soon after her wedding. But she didn’t. The lass seemed totally unaffected. Rhiannon had to add more to the second batch. She added still more as the days went on and Gillian failed to die. It was taking so long at one point Rhiannon had feared Agnes might figure it out. But for once, fortune had smiled on her. Agnes succumbed to a lung infection at the perfect time. Even so, Rhiannon could wait no longer. The laird had sent for another healer. If she was as skilled as he believed, she would know the signs of foxglove poisoning and be able to taste it in the tisane Lana dutifully prepared.

Now, Rhiannon simply had to give Gillian something that would assuredly kill her, remove the tainted herbs from her chamber before anyone was the wiser, and mourn with the rest of the clan. Imagine Gillian succumbing to melancholia on the same day the laird tragically fell to his death. She smiled to herself. It was all working out now.

She walked through the village and past the gate to Brathanead.

“Hello Mother,” Coby said warmly. “Please tell Lady MacLennan she is in my prayers and I hope she is feeling better today.”

“How thoughtful of ye. I will tell her.”

“Rhiannon, have ye seen the laird?” Tarmon asked. “He rode out of here a couple of hours ago with the devil on his heels and he hasn’t come back yet. It looked like he was heading towards yer cottage. I feared something had happened to Lady Gillian.”

“Nay, Tarmon. I haven’t seen him. He has been under a fair strain these last weeks. Maybe he just needed some time alone to clear his head.”

Rhiannon continued on her way. She met Lana as she entered the hall.

“Rhiannon, I’m glad ye’ve come early today. Gillian is in a bad way. She is too weak to get out of bed. Fallon has been with her all morning and I am on my way up to sit with her now. I have her tisane here but she refused to drink it this morning.”

“Give it to me. I will see she drinks it. She won’t get better otherwise.”

“I’ll come with ye. I want to give Fallon a break. Worrying herself sick over Gillian will do no good.”

“I have nothing pressing this afternoon. I will sit with Gillian for a while.”

“Ye needn’t. I am so worried about her. I want to tend her for a while.”

Rhiannon looked at her sternly. “Lana, I didn’t want to say this to ye, but I fear ye have been too soft on her. Ye and the laird both let her have her way. She would be up and fighting this if ye didn’t. Ye are letting her give up.”

“That’s not true. She is much worse today than she has been. She simply can’t get out of bed.”

Rhiannon patted her arm. “I know ye think ye are doing what is best, but perhaps if I try I will have better results. See to things down here and unless the devil has her completely in his grasp, I will get her up.”

“If ye really think ye can, I suppose that is best.”

Rhiannon took the tisane from Lana. “It is best. I will send Fallon down. See that she gets some fresh air. We wouldn’t want the black bile building in her either.”

“Oh dear, I didn’t realize that could happen. Nay, we can’t have that. Send her down.”

“Of course, Lana.” She sniffed the cup. “I think this needs to be a bit stronger. Is the packet of herbs in her room?”

“Nay, I have it here.” Lana reached into her pocket, producing the packet.

Rhiannon took the packet from her and continued up the stairs. She knocked softly at the door and entered.

Fallon smiled wanly when she entered. “Rhiannon, I was expecting Mother, but I’m glad ye’re here. Gillian is feeling very poorly today.”

“Aye, so yer mother said. I’ll set her to rights though. I have her tisane here.”

“She wouldn’t drink it this morning.”

“I’m not deaf and I don’t want it,” snapped Gillian from the bed. “It isn’t helping anymore. Just leave me alone.”

Rhiannon frowned. “Fallon dear, perhaps ye should go help yer mother. With yer sister abed, there is much to do. I will sort things out here.”

Fallon went to Gillian’s side and caressed her cheek. “Gillian, I will go help mother but if ye need me for anything, send for me.”

“I’m sorry I was cross with ye, Fallon. Thank ye.”

“It’s all right. I understand. I’ll be back later.” Fallon kissed Gillian’s cheek and left the room.

Rhiannon crossed the room, put the mug containing the tisane on the table and pulled a small flask from her pocket, pouring its contents in the mug. “I understand ye are being very contrary today, Gillian. Yer family loves ye and only wants the best for ye. Lying abed and failing to take yer medicine isn’t very considerate. I thought better of ye than this.” Her words had their intended effect. Tears welled in Gillian’s eyes. “Now, I have prepared a new medicine for ye. I think it will pick ye right up. Be a good lass and drink it down.”

Bodie growled from his spot on the bed beside Gillian as Rhiannon approached.

Gillian put her hand on him. “Bodie, stop. It’s all right.”

Gillian reached to take the mug from her. Bodie growled and snapped. Rhiannon pulled her hand away and took a step back. “Ye see, Gillian, even Bodie is upset by ye staying abed. He needs fresh air. I will just let him out, shall I?” She walked to the chamber door, opened it, and clicked her tongue. “Come on, lad. Ye want a nice run now don’t ye?”

~ * ~

Gillian wasn’t sure why Bodie had snapped at Rhiannon. That wasn’t like him. She wouldn’t have stopped him if he did want to go out, but she was glad when he stayed put. “I don’t want him to go. He’ll be fine,” Gillian assured her.

“If ye say so.” Rhiannon sat in a chair across the room.

Gillian lifted the mug to her lips and took a sip. It was bitter as gall. She frowned.

“Is something wrong, Gillian?”

“It’s too hot, and it tastes different.”

“Let it cool a bit if ye must, but the new medicine I added is a tad bitter.”

For days Gillian had felt as if she were in a fog but for some reason she remembered something Fingal had said the evening after the hunt. He was talking about pain medicine.
It’s bitter swill. But Gillian, it is what I tasted in the wine.
She took another sip. Bitter swill was right. This tasted horrible. “What do ye think this new medicine will do?”

“It will put everything to rights, dear. I should have thought of it days ago. Drink up.”

What was Rhiannon doing? The wine she drank that night had a faint bitter aftertaste and yet it had put her into a deep sleep. This was almost impossible to choke down. If this was the same thing, there was enough in this mug to kill her.
Rhiannon wouldn’t try to kill me. What possible reason could she have?

The night of the hunt she had asked Fingal why anyone would want to kill her. He’d said,
I don’t know what the reason might be, Gillian, but I am not willing to risk yer life simply because I don’t understand why it is in danger
.

She raised the mug to her lips again, taking another sip, shuddering at the taste. Bodie whined. The night of the hunt she had promised Fingal that she would accept a guard at all times, unless she was in this room with the door barred and Bodie at her side.
What am I doing? Something is wrong. For whatever reason, Rhiannon is trying to kill me and Bodie knows it
.

She wanted to get out of bed, to escape, but she was so weak she didn’t believe she had the energy to reach the door. She had to make Rhiannon believe she was drinking the tisane. She put the mug to her lips again, but turned her head slightly away, letting the liquid dribble out of the cup and onto her pillows. The few sips she had taken were already making her a little drowsy but Gillian suspected Rhiannon would need to see that she drank much more if she intended to kill her. Still, maybe she could simply refuse. “I don’t like this, Rhiannon. I have had enough.”

“Gillian, I am shocked by yer behavior. One would think ye enjoy being ill. Is that it? Do ye want to lie abed and have people worrying about ye night and day?

“Nay, Rhiannon. I hate being sick.”

“Then I will hear no more about the medicine tasting bad. Drink it.” Bodie growled again. Gillian felt like growling. She had never heard Rhiannon take that sharp, demanding tone with anyone.

“I’ll drink it. But first, would ye send someone for the laird please? Perhaps ye are right about Bodie. He’ll go out with Fingal.”

“I saw the laird leaving on horseback this morning. He isn’t back yet. Ye are stalling, Gillian. Drink yer medicine.”

Gillian put the cup to her lips again and spilled more into the pillows. She shuddered again. It wasn’t an act. Even the bit of moisture left on her lips as she spilled it was foul enough to make her shudder. But half the mug was gone now.

“Are ye beginning to feel better yet?”

“I feel drowsy,” Gillian said honestly. She didn’t think she was in danger of losing consciousness but she needed to act the part. She lifted the cup again, spilling still more of its contents into the bed.

“I knew this would work. It will all be over soon, Gillian.”

“What do ye mean?” She poured the rest of the tisane down the side of her face and into the bedding. She rubbed her face drowsily, wiping away the moisture so Rhiannon wouldn’t suspect she hadn’t consumed the tisane. She handed Rhiannon the mug. “If there was something that would help me feel better so quickly, why are ye only just giving it to me now?” She yawned and blinked as if trying to stay awake.

“Oh, dear me. Did I say it would make ye better? It won’t exactly do that, Gillian. Ye will be falling asleep very soon and ye will never wake up.”

Gillian tried to act surprised. “What do ye mean I will never wake up? Am I dying?”

“Yes, ye are. It has taken ye long enough. I thought ye would be dead weeks ago.”

The meaning of her words sank in. “Have ye been poisoning me? With the tisane?”

“Aye, I have. But ye have a much stronger constitution than yer Aunt Meara.”

“Aunt Meara too? But why?”

“Has yer mother never told ye the prophecy?

“Prophecy?” Gillian’s thoughts really were muddled. Perhaps the few sips she took had been enough. She forced herself to focus.

“Aye, the prophecy about Fallon rising above the rest.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Ye are dying, Gillian, but if ye want a bedtime story while ye slip away, I will be happy to tell ye one. I’m sure ye’ve heard tell that I’m a seer?”

“Aye,” she whispered, forcing her eyes open.

“The Sight isn’t what people believe it to be. It is simply wisdom, the ability to read a situation and sometimes to help a prediction come true.”

“What do ye mean?” Gillian’s voice sounded weak and reedy to her own ears.

“Well, secrets are always a good place to start. Ye know yerself, not much stays completely secret within a clan and I am especially good at ferreting them out. Secrets make an excellent starting place for predictions. I assure ye, Gillian, yer mother has a deep dark secret that she believes no one knows.”

Gillian gasped.

“Surprised are ye? Well ’tis true. So, I simply used that knowledge to make the prediction about Fallon ‘rising above all others’. It was a truly brilliant prediction.”

Gillian’s head was swimming. “I don’t understand.”

“Aye, I’m sure ye don’t. Never mind. Another thing to remember is that the best predictions are those that people want realized. They will do everything in their power to fulfill such prophecies and yer mother wanted this prediction to come true. At first she thought she carried a boy who would rise to greatness. Of course my real hope was that the baby would be a girl who could marry my own son and I was overjoyed when the little raven haired beauty was born. I have worked for years to convince Lana to see Fallon betrothed to Coby.”