“You may be right, Orelia, about Alice. But I suspect that my decision to acknowledge Iain has somehow unhinged my wife.”
So Alice knew of his decision. “Perhaps you should wait until she is better.”
“I considered waiting but as I told you, I believe it is past time that the matter is taken care of. I will leave for London tomorrow for my audience with King Edward.”
Richard studied her face. “You seem apprehensive. I don't believe she'll harm you, Orelia. If I did, I would take her with me.”
“It's not me I'm worried about. I fear for my son.”
“I'll only be gone a week.”
“Yes, of course. Thank you for doing this, Richard.”
Richard appeared chagrined. “I am only sorry that I didn't stand up to Alice right from the start. My brother deserved better than to be remembered as a man whose wife was unfaithful.” He stood. “It's lateâlet me escort you to your chamber.”
They said goodnight in front of her door. She entered the chamber quietly so as not to disturb Mary and Iain. Orelia felt more at peace than she had since her days at Dunstruan. The thought of her accomplished goal made her smile.
As she plaited her hair and got ready for bed, she remembered the beautiful lake at Dunstruan. And the man who lived in the castle beside it. What had become of him? Had he made peace with his memories as she had made peace with her future?
On the morrow they would move back to the cottage and when Richard returned, perhaps she would take Iain and Mary for a sojourn to Dunstruan. With her son's inheritance in order, she was free. Free to resume her life in any way she saw fit.
UPON RECEIVING a surprising invitation from Alice, Orelia, Mary, and Iain came down to the hall to break their fast and see Richard off. George of Wellsey had arrived late the night before and Orelia greeted him. “George. It is so good to see you again.”
He bowed over her hand. “My lady. I was happy to learn that the report of your death was false.”
She looked to Richard and he nodded. “George knows all, Orelia. He can be trusted.”
They were all seated before Alice joined them, looking flushed and rain dampened.
She sat down and seemed very pleased with herself. “I've had a lovely walk this morning,” she announced.
Orelia thought it beyond strange that Alice would walk before the morning meal, but said nothing. She looked better this morning, brighter; perhaps the woman was trying to make amends with Orelia by breaking their fast together. Still, Alice's long stares at Iain made Orelia shift nervously in her seat.
When the meal ended, Orelia said a quick goodbye to Richard and took Mary and her son to the safety of their room to pack the belongings they'd brought with them. By the time they'd finished, the rain had increased to a downpour and Orelia decided to wait before carrying their goods to the cottage.
Orelia busied herself dusting the room and putting it to rights before she left. But within two hours of their return to the room, Iain became acutely sick. For hours, he vomited. He could keep nothing down, not even the tea that Orelia brewed to settle his stomach.
“What ails him, my lady?” Mary asked, staring anxiously at the lad from over her shoulder.
“I don't know. Go downstairs and ask the servants if anyone else is sick.”
Mary left and Orelia held Iain's listless hand. He'd emptied his stomach long ago and though he'd stopped heaving, he was not responding. What sickness was this?
Mary came back and sat down hard on a bench. She breathed heavily from climbing the stairs too quickly.
“What it is? How many are sick?”
Mary shook her head. “Only one other. The earl. His manservant brought him back slung over his horse.”
Fear gripped Orelia. What pestilence was this? “Is Richard dead?”
“No. But he's worse off than poor Iain. Lady Alice is worried that her children will become sick. She wants to know if you will take care of Lord Richard here.”
“Of course.” Though Orelia was scared for Iain, it wouldn't hurt him to have Richard here. She could understand Alice's concern for her children. 'Twas the first rational thought Alice had had in quite some time.
Mary left again and soon returned with servants carrying Richard. They placed him on a pallet before the fireplace and made no secret of the fact they were anxious to leave him and whatever contagion consumed him.
While Mary tended Iain, Orelia sat at Richard's side, gently wiping the sweat from his face and praying. No one else had sickened, to Orelia's relief. Richard ranted and raved like he'd had too much ale between bouts of emptying his stomach. At one point he lay quiet and Orelia thought he might be getting better. He opened his eyes. “Alice,” he rasped.
“ 'Tis Orelia, Richard.”
He shook his head. “I know . . . who you are. Alice . . . poison.” He grasped Orelia's hand with surprising strength. “Don't trust her.”
She didn't contradict his accusation. Alice had poisoned them? Her nephew and her own husband? Surely not! Richard must save his strength and get well.
He must, for all our sakes.
Richard's breathing became labored and Orelia nearly wept. He had been kind, was set on an honorable course to right a wrong, and now she despaired for his life. And his wife had yet to inquire of his health.
Selfishly, Orelia feared what Richard's death would mean for her and Iain. If Iain lived. Orelia fingered John's cross and prayed as she'd never prayed in her life.
IN THE DEAD OF THE NIGHT Iain awoke and managed to keep down some tea. But Richard kept slipping away.
As morning's pale light filled their chamber, Mary returned from fetching fresh water; she set the pail down and sat beside Orelia. Mary's face was pale and she trembled.
“What is it? Has someone else sickened?”
Mary shook her head. “My lady, you will remember the hound that Iain befriended?”
“Yes.”
“The one that eats the crumbs the boy drops.”
Orelia smiled, thinking of the bond between the boy and the dog. “The one Iain feeds most of his food to?”
“Aye.” Mary paused. “The dog has been missing since Iain and the earl got sick. Cook found its carcass on the garbage heap.”
Orelia could not believe the implication. Had Richard spoken the truth after all? “You think they've been poisoned?”
“Cook does. She said someone left some mushrooms on the table in the kitchen. Cook recognized themâsaid they were poisonous and weren't allowed in the kitchen.”
Orelia's heart pounded. She didn't need more convincing. She would heed Richard's warning. “We are not staying here, Mary. Especially if Richard dies. We're leaving Radbourne as soon as Iain is well enough.”
THAT AFTERNOON, Richard breathed his last. Orelia sobbed at his side, devastated that such a good man should die so young. And even more devastated that he'd gone to his grave knowing his own wife had killed him.
Orelia prayed for his speedy journey to heaven. Then she prayed for deliverance from Alice, from a woman who had apparently murdered her husband. And for what? The title? Wealth? What good were such things without faith in God and the love of your husband?
Though Orelia hated to leave the relative safety of the room, she had to tell Alice of Richard's death. When Orelia entered the great hall, she saw Alice talking to George.
Alice primped at her reddish blond hair and turning a disdainful look on Orelia, she said, “Don't bother us.”
George appeared somewhat taken aback by Alice's behavior.
“I'm so glad you're here,” Orelia said to him. George.” Alice smiled coyly.
Alice grabbed hold of his arm. “She's not half as glad as I am,
Orelia recoiled in shock at the obvious flirtation and George shifted uncomfortably. She nearly forgot why she'd come searching for the woman. Then she blurted, “Richard is dead, Alice.”
“Oh, dear. I feared he might not recover. That is why I sent for George.” Alice's glazed eyes and strange behavior were even more frightening now that Richard was dead.
Orelia stared at the man who had taken Alice's arm to support her. Whose side was he on? Could Orelia trust him as Richard had assured her? Anxious to return to her son, Orelia said, “I will have the servants bring Richard's body to the hall.”
Alice waved her fingers and as if she hadn't quite heard, said, “Tell them to put it in the solar.” Leaning on George, Alice simply walked away.
Orelia found several servants who went with her and removed the body. When they were gone Orelia closed and barred the door. She and her loved ones were safe for now; there was only one way into or out of the room.
“Mary, I'm convinced that Lady Alice has completely lost her mind.” Orelia's thoughts were spinning and her head ached. The lack of sleep, Iain's illness, and Richard's death nearly overwhelmed her ability to cope. One thing at a time. She had survived a battle and imprisonment; she could manage this situation.
“We must go to my grandmother's cottage as soon as Iain is strong enough. Then I'll find someone who will go with me to London to vouch for Iain, someone who knew John . . . George! George can vouch for Iain!”
But something about the man's behavior a few minutes ago unsettled her. Orelia wasn't sure she could trust him, not if he'd come under Alice's spell.
While Mary tended to Iain, Orelia paced the room. Would George help her? Even if he agreed, Alice had powerful friends among the nobility. Orelia doubted whether any of them would believe her story. A knock came at the door. Cautiously she opened it to find George standing there.
“My lady. For the love I held for your husband, I must warn you. Leave Radbourne. I will arrange for a wagon to take you wherever you wish to go. Be ready to leave at first light!”
And with that he strode away.
WHEN THE SCOTTISH RAIDING PARTY reached the English town of Ripon, Ceallach knew he was less than twenty miles from Radbourne Hall. The knowledge that Orelia lived so close by ate at him and he considered riding south. He would not endanger her by going to Radbourne itself, but surely the nearby villagers could give him some word of her. That's all he needed, he assured himself. Just to know she was well. And happy.
They stayed several days in Ripon, restocking their provisions and resting the horses. The days of inactivity dragged by adding to his restlessness. Finally he went to Bruce. Ceallach faced his king and foster brother in the privacy of the king's tent. They hadn't seen any English patrols and even if they had, so long as no one recognized Ceallach, the danger to him was minimal.
Robert looked at him as if he'd gone out of his mind. “You want to visit an Englishwoman?”
“No. I just want to ride a bit farther south and learn how she is faring.”
“Why would you want to take such a risk? I'm not convinced you should be making social calls while we're here,” Bruce said in jest.
Defensively Ceallach replied, “I don't intend to call on her. Just go into the village and see what I can learn.”
“Who is she?”
Ceallach squirmed. “Lady Radbourne.”
Bruce looked thoughtful. “Lady Orelia Radbourne, the woman you guarded at Dunstruan?”
Ceallach nodded.
“I see.” Bruce stroked his chin, the king's eyes searching his own. There was a glint of humor in Bruce's gaze. “All right, I see no harm in your plan. We'll ride to Radbourne and you can go into the village to learn what you can about your lady.”
They camped a few miles from Radbourne Hall and the next day Ceallach, Fergus, and Morrigan rode into the village. The hard rain that had plagued them for several days had given way to a dry but cloudy afternoon.
The villagers watched with suspicion as strangers rode down the main thoroughfare. Ceallach stopped his horse outside the inn and Fergus and Morrigan did the same. “You two stay with the horses. I'll go in and see what I can discover.”
His comrades nodded. They did not dismount.
Ceallach pushed open the heavy oak door, went in, and sat down at one of the empty tables. After a few minutes the serving girl came over and he ordered a glass of watered wine and some meat-filled pastries to share with his companions.
When the girl brought his drink he asked, “I'm looking for Radbourne Hall. Is it close by?”
She glanced around and then leaned close to whisper, “Yes,m'lord. About a mile east of here. But ye don't want to be going there.”
She started to leave and he grabbed her wrist. “I've business there. Why do you warn me off?”
Again she looked warily about. With a pleased look that told Ceallach the girl enjoyed gossiping, she said, “Some are saying the earl is dead. Poisoned, they say!”
Struggling to remain calm, Ceallach sipped his wine. “I thought the earl died at Bannockburn.”
Warming to her tale, the girl leaned closer. “That would be the old earl, Lord John.”
This was just the opening Ceallach had been hoping for. “Does his widow still live there?”
She shook her head. “Don't know, m'lord. Rumor had it she died of a foreign plague but I've recently heard different.”
She made to walk away, giving him a shrewd glance. Much as he hated to act so interested, he decided to give the girl what she wanted in exchange for more information. He pulled out his money pouch and laid a shiny gold coin on the tabletop, far more than the cost of the meal.
The maid came back to his table and whisked the coin into her hand. “They say Lady Orelia and her son are held prisoner there.” She hurried away.
Despite the girl's willingness to gossip, Ceallach still had unanswered questions. He went out to his companions and handed them each a pastry. While they ate he told them what the serving girl said.
“What do ye want to do?” Fergus asked.
“I'm not going back to Scotland without answers.”
“Are we going to smuggle a message in or go in ourselves?” Fergus asked.