“Nay, turn right,” Tilda snapped, poking her in the back again.
Saidh ground her teeth together, very tempted to turn and hit the woman with the flaming torch. But the possibility of hurting Alpin if she did stopped her. Which was what the woman was counting on, of course, she thought as she turned around to head to the right. “How did ye kill Allen?”
“You mean after he finished telling me that he was the laird, and would no longer do as I wished? That he would no’ sleep with his wife, or give me grandchildren, and that I’d best jest keep me mouth closed and do as he said or he’d see me in a hovel at the edge of the property?” she asked dryly, and then continued, “After all o’ that he ordered me to send fer wine and his first.”
“Ye did no’ send fer his first,” Saidh said with certainty. She already knew that from Bowie. He’d waited all night for Allen to send for him.
“Nay,” Tilda said with satisfaction. “I suspected he intended to ha’e Bowie remove me to the threatened hovel that very night. So I did no’ send fer him, and I fetched the wine meself. After putting a few o’ Helen’s weeds in it, I delivered the wine and told him that I had sent a servant fer Bowie and he should be along soon.”
“What kind o’ weeds?” Saidh asked with a frown, slowing as they came to stairs leading up.
“Keep going,” Tilda ordered, and when Saidh started up the stairs, answered, “A combination that made him easy to handle. They worked beautifully,” she added with satisfaction. “I had no trouble at all getting him to follow me into the passage and down to the loch. Then I jest had him strip, walked him out into the water and held his head under. He barely struggled. In no time at all I was back in the castle, climbing into me bed.”
And slept like a babe, no doubt, Saidh thought grimly, but didn’t say as much. Instead, asking, “And Fenella?”
“That was supposed to be you,” Tilda said with irritation. “I near to died from shock when I saw it was her instead.”
Saidh grimaced to herself. They’d thought her shock because she hadn’t done it. Instead, it was because she’d done it to the wrong woman. They should have thought of that possibility, she acknowledged grimly.
“I had intended for Fenella to take the blame fer both yer death and Allen’s,” Tilda said, bringing Saidh’s attention back from her thoughts. “O’ course, I can no’ do that now.”
“Why kill me? I thought ye liked me,” Saidh said, and frowned at the plaintive note in her own voice. But truly, she’d come to really like Aunt Tilda. At least the Aunt Tilda she’d thought she was.
“I do like ye, child,” Tilda assured her. “Yer verra entertaining. The way ye handle yer brothers impresses me greatly.”
“Then why kill me?” Saidh asked with bewilderment, and then slowed as the torch revealed a stone wall half a dozen steps further up.
“Keep going,” Tilda hissed, poking her once again with the knife, harder. Feeling a thin rivulet of what could only be blood trickle down her back, Saidh paused and growled, “Poke me with that pig sticker again, m’lady, and I shall turn and shove this torch down yer throat.”
“Then Alpin will die,” Tilda said coldly.
Saidh ground her teeth together and continued up the last few steps. This time, to avoid giving the woman an excuse to stab her in the back again, she didn’t hesitate, or wait to be ordered to pull the lever. She just did it and then stepped out into darkness and cool night air.
“Where are we?” she asked, continuing forward and peering curiously around. They were in what appeared to be a small room. At least it had walls and a ceiling, although all four walls had large openings without any window or shutters, leaving it open to the elements on all sides.
“The bell tower,” Tilda muttered, and Saidh glanced back to see her push the stone door closed. Finished with her task, Lady MacDonnell turned to face her, Alpin clamped to her body by her arm again. She’d used her hand holding the knife to push the door closed, but now raised it to press against his throat again.
“There is no bell,” Saidh pointed out.
“Nay,” Tilda agreed. “No’ anymore.”
When she didn’t explain further, Saidh let the subject go and dropped her gaze to Alpin’s face. He looked much more alert, but was still leaning weakly against Tilda. But that might be to their advantage, she thought, and then raised her eyes to Lady MacDonnell’s face and asked, “So? Why kill me?”
“That should be obvious e’en to you,” Tilda said quietly. “While I like ye, child. Yer no’ a lady. In truth, ye’re little better than a lightskirt, the way ye lifted yer skirts fer him at the loch and rutted like an animal with him. The things ye let him do to ye . . .” She shook her head. “Yer no better than me sister was. Ye could hear her squeals o’ pleasure through the castle too.”
Saidh gave a sharp laugh. “So ye killed yer son because he’d no’ sleep with his wife, and ye’d kill me because I happily sleep with me husband?”
Tilda’s mouth tightened with anger. “A lady suffers her husband’s attentions, she does no’ revel in them and scream her pleasure like some cheap whore. Besides,” she added grimly. “Yer no’ good enough to rule MacDonnell. Me people need a proper lady, not a cursing, swaggering lass who thinks she’s a lad. ’Tis bad enough that Greer behaves so, yer worse because ye’re a woman. Ye merely encourage him to behave badly. Once ye’re gone I’ll find him a proper wife who’ll help me reform him and—”
“Help ye reform him?” Saidh asked with disbelief. “Ye’ll be strung up by the neck fer this, no’ reforming anything. They ken ye killed Allen and Fenella, and they’ll ken ye killed me.”