Page 44 of When a Highlander Weds a Hellion
“Aye,” the brothers both answered.
And then Broch said, “But—”
“Esmerelda,” Alban snapped.
Broch glanced to Brodee, who looked as shocked as Broch felt. Esmerelda had been their father’s leman. Of course, their father had told Broch that he and their mother had argued because Blackswell had refused to send his leman away, but Broch had assumed he eventually had.
“As I was saying, the healer mesmerized the laird. Some said she wasban-druidh.” Alban cackled at that. “She is nae a witch,” he assured them both. “Just a woman who kenned well how to pleasure a man. But there is pleasure of the body and then joy of the heart.” He touched a finger to his chest. “The great laird went to a summer tourney and met a lass with lavender eyes, who brought him first joy to his heart and later, after they wed, pleasure to his body. He was enraptured, and all was perfect in the land. But all kinnae stay perfect. ’Tis nae nature’s way. Nature gives and takes away.”
Broch tensed, reminded of his fear that something he’d always wanted and only recently found was going to be taken from him.
“The laird brought his new wife back to Hightower, but when he did, he discovered his leman carried his child, forcing him to tell his wife about Esmerelda.”
Broch’s gut tightened, and a suspicion rose in him.
“It put distance between the laird and his wife,” the bard said, “because she was naturally jealous, even though the laird did nae ever touch Esmerelda again in lust. Esmerelda was furious to be spurned by Blackswell, but she had confidence that once their bairn was born, Blackswell would return to her bed.”
Broch’s fingers curled around the hilt of his sheathed dagger as his heart began to pound.
“Then Blackswell’s new bride’s belly began to swell with his heirs—the two of ye—even as Esmerelda’s belly swelled.”
Broch shifted, thinking suddenly how Esmerelda had been near the dais the night he was poisoned and thinking of Gavin’s hatred of him. The strong desire to go to Katreine filled him, but he had to hear the rest of the story to be certain his suspicion was true.
“When Esmerelda’s wee lass was born, she was nae living.”
Broch sucked in a sharp breath.
“Esmerelda was crazed and plotted to get the laird back. She blamed her bairn’s death and losing Blackswell on yer mother. Yer mother, in turn, demanded he send Esmerelda away, but I think his guilt and pride would nae allow him to do so. So it was on the day ye two were born that yer father and mother were nae speaking.”
The bard sat back as if he were done, and Brodee and Broch spoke in unison again. “That’s it?”
“Well, much of the rest of what I could tell ye I’ve gotten in bits and pieces from Esmerelda’s sister Nesa and the clanswomen who heard whisperings. I did nae see or hear it myself, so I dunnae like to repeat it.”
“Tell us,” Broch urged, the feeling that something bad was about to happen increasing.
Alban looked as if he would argue, but after a moment, he nodded. “Esmerelda’s sister shared with me that Esmerelda demanded Nesa lie for her.”
“What lie did Esmerelda want Nesa to tell?” Brodee prodded, his hands in fists upon his knees.
“According to Nesa, on the day yer mother gave birth to ye, Esmerelda had Nesa tell yer mother that Blackswell was still bedding Esmerelda.”
“Father thinks Nesa told Mother to be hateful to Esmerelda. I believe he thinks Esmerelda had nothing to do with it,” Broch said.
“We can solve this by asking Nesa herself, but I dunnae ken her,” Brodee said. “Where does she now live Alban?”
“She died,” the bard said. “’Twas a stomach ailment that took her suddenly, the day after ye were born.”
A black certainty gripped Broch’s heart, and when he looked to Brodee, whose lips were pressed in a thin line, he knew they were both thinking the same thing: Esmerelda had poisoned her sister and likely had poisoned him, too.
“There is nae much left to this story,” Alban said. “Blackswell’s wife fled him the day after she gave birth to two braw sons. She took the oldest with her.” Alban looked to Broch. “And the youngest by a breath,” Alban said, glancing to Brodee, “she left in Nesa’s care, but when Nesa died, Esmerelda thought to make ye almost as her own bairn, I think. ’Tis only my conjecture. But Blackswell was grieved and guilty over what he had done to cause his wife to leave and take his eldest heir. He took the bairn he had left and kept him close, even as he kept Esmerelda at a distance.”
“And what whisperings did ye hear of what Esmerelda did next?” Broch demanded, his blood roaring in his ears. He would have every detail when he confronted the woman.
“She wed another, but the womenfolk talked of how she hated him. I think perhaps he was cruel, and she bemoaned the lot fate had given her. She thought she should have been the laird’s wife, and him keeping her here kept that hope alive. ’Tis all I ken. The two of ye must go away now. I’m old and tired.”
Broch stood, very eager to return to the castle. All he could think of was that Katreine had intended to go see Esmerelda. God’s teeth, he prayed Katreine was unharmed.
When the door closed behind Broch and Brodee, Broch turned to his brother. “Do ye think—”
