“Ah, weel, we have all kenned the truth of that from the verra beginning.” She nodded when Annys stared at her in shock. “We have. I ken ye thought it was just me, and that made ye happy so I let ye think so. But everyone kens it. There were a few weeks where anger at ye ran a wee bit strong in some until we saw how joyful the laird was o’er the coming bairn. Then we began to ken the truth. What afflicted the laird was nay a secret to all of us, ye ken. We just let him think that it was. A secret held by all out of the respect we felt he was due.”
Annys was not sure how she felt about all that. A part of her was deeply relieved for she had carried the weight of that secret for so long. It was also uncomfortable to know that everyone at Glencullaich knew she had been unfaithful to her husband. It did not really matter that the man had asked her to be just as no one could be certain he had done so. It had all been done very privately.
“Annys,” Joan said quietly, her lack of formality revealing how concerned she was, “nary a person here has e’er condemned you. It didnae take us long to fully understand what had happened. The laird’s utter joy o’er the bairn told us all we really cared to know. He kenned the bairn wasnae his. Had to, didnae he? Yet naught could hide his delight. We decided he had arranged it all. The way he so proudly named the bairn his son was but another confirmation of that. And we had all worried about the fact that there would be no heir so were pleased to claim the child ourselves, as weel. Wee Benet’s birth saved us from having Sir Adam, or one of his ilk, step in as our laird. Although we didnae expect to lose our laird as soon as we did.”
“Nay, nor did I, and I begin to believe we shouldnae have. Ye heard all that Sir Callum said, and he suspects a poisoning. I didnae want to consider it then but I have been doing so, and now I believe he may be right. Someone at Glencullaich helped Sir Adam kill our laird.”
Joan cursed and took a deep drink of cider. “Who?”
“I dinnae ken.” Annys sighed. “I still struggle to understand it e’en though I believe that is what happened. What Sir Callum said held the ring of truth and I ken that he has a verra sharp wit, yet I cannae think of any of our people who would e’er help Adam. And most certainly nary a one who would help him kill David.”
“Nor can I.” Joan muttered a curse. “If I find one helping that bastard, ye willnae have to fret o’er them betraying us again. I promise ye that.”
“So bloodthirsty,” Annys murmured, a little amused by Joan’s ferocity.
“I feel so when I think on it. The laird was taken from us much too soon. If one of our own sent him off to an early grave then I will be verra pleased to see to it that they rot in hell.”
This time Annys was stunned by the fury in Joan’s voice. The woman actually trembled from the strength of it. She knew all of the people of Glencullaich had cared for their laird but she now had to wonder if her maid, her dearest friend, had cared far more than most, more than as a sister cares for her sibling.
“Joan? Did ye love David?” she asked, keeping her tone of voice as soft and gentle as she could.
“Of course I did. He was my laird.” She looked at Annys and briefly laughed. “Och, nay as ye are now thinking. Nay, there was no lust in my love for David, no fire in the blood. I thought ye kenned my love was that of a friend, e’en of a sister.”
“I did but, for just a moment, I thought I may have been wrong.”
“Nay. I have a few years on ye, m’lady, and ken weel what a gift Sir David was, what a good mon and good laird. A rare thing, and trust me to ken the truth of that. If some fool nudged that good, kind mon into an early grave to please that bastard Sir Adam or gain a few coins for their purse, they didnae just betray the laird. Or ye. They betrayed every mon, woman, and child in Glencullaich.”
Annys nodded slowly as she considered those words. “Aye, that is exactly what they did.” She sighed. “Weel, unless someone wishes to come forth and confess all, we shall ne’er ken the truth. Aye, poisoning makes sense to me, explains so much about David’s illness that I just couldnae understand, but proving it now that David is dead and buried is impossible. Och, we could only have proven it when he was alive by the way he would have been cured or by catching the one who did it slipping the poison into his food or drink.”
“I will still watch closely for the one who may have done it. If that one could kill a good mon for that wretched Sir Adam, who kens what else the bastard is capable of?”
“True. I will watch as weel although I think ye will have better luck because ye are nay the laird’s wife. I but appear and whoe’er did this will be fully on his guard.”
“I am nay so far from being treated the same, but I ken better who to trust amongst the ones who would have had the chance to do it. I ken better who to watch as weel.”
“Do ye have some suspicions, Joan?”