Free True Love Brides 02 - The Highlander’s Curse by Claire Delacroix Page B

not.”
    “Then it is a poison he has consumed,” Isabella said. “Such a sudden and violent reaction can come from little else. What has he eaten?”
    “I know not.”
    “Such self-sacrifice,” Orson mused. Apparently, he had followed and now stood behind Annelise, drinking wine. “And the lady with your child.” He smiled coolly at Murdoch, who also joined them.
    “My lady wife is a healer,” Murdoch retorted. “She oft cares more for her art than her safety.”
    “But what of you?” Orson asked. “What do you care most about?”
    Murdoch did not reply, but merely averted his gaze from Orson and spoke to Isabella. Annelise noted his choice and feared its import. Why would Murdoch be unwilling to offend Orson?
    Unless she and Garrett had guessed Orson’s mission correctly.
    And Murdoch knew it was intended to succeed. Anger flooded through Annelise, for Alexander had promised his three younger sisters their choice in marriage.
    “Well?” Murdoch asked his lady wife.
    “I believe he is poisoned,” Isabella said, then looked up at him. “We must aid him. Time will be of the greatest import.”
    “Can you aid him without knowing the cause?”
    Isabella winced. “Only in the most basic way. I assume he has ingested it…”
    “So you will ensure that his innards are emptied,” Murdoch concluded. “Fair enough.” He raised his voice, shouting for Fionn and Helga, the two who most commonly aided Isabella.
    Orson raised his voice slightly. “What great risks you take when such undesirable men are afoot. Perhaps he brings a malady to your gates, and his presence will see you all sickened.”
    “Think of the plague,” Andrew agreed, his tone hard. “No soul knows how it arrives or why it leaves, but clearly some soul unwittingly carries it from city to city.”
    “And thousands are left dead in its wake,” Orson agreed. He made a face and shuddered. “Have you heard tell of the pustules that form upon their bodies?”
    “A horrific way to die,” Andrew agreed, looked over Garrett and took a step back.
    “He shows no signs of plague,” Isabella said tightly. “That malady is said to begin with the swelling in the neck and groin, with the buboes. He has no such.”
    “But seizures follow,” Orson insisted. He seemed to believe that the consumption of wine would protect him.
    “And fever.” Andrew nodded, as if he were the healer.
    “And death to all who have touched the victim,” Orson concluded with a flourish. “Why not cast this undesirable from the gates and see the health of all of us assured?”
    “You are not being of assistance in this,” Isabella said sternly.
    “He is not undesirable!” Annelise snapped.
    Orson’s brows rose and he exchanged a meaningful glance with his fellow knight.
    “Perhaps it would be best for you to return to the hall,” Murdoch said, his manner smooth, even as Fionn and Helga arrived.
    Annelise could not believe how her hunter had changed, and how ill he looked.
    “Garrett,” she whispered and knelt closer to him. His eyes flew open and his gaze locked upon her. He seized her hand so quickly that she was startled. Murdoch’s hand gripped his knife’s hilt, but Isabella stayed him with a touch. Annelise dared not release Garrett’s hand, for she saw some of the anguish leave his expression.
    Instead, she folded both of her hands around his. His skin felt clammy, both sweaty and cold, and she could feel him trembling deep inside. Yet when his hand was fully within hers, he exhaled and his eyes closed once more.
    This time he seemed to be relieved.
    “Your touch consoles him,” Isabella said almost under her breath. “I cannot explain that either, for no poison I know responds to touch, but you must hold fast to him.”
    Annelise nodded agreement, more than happy to do as much.
    “I would take him to the hut behind the kitchens.” Isabella turned an appealing glance on Murdoch, whose lips tightened even as he nodded.
    Orson waved a hand and