When Aulay paused, Geordie picked up the thread of the explanation and said, “The lass has no family. Her mother was a maid here who came to work at Buchanan when Katie was a wee bairn, and she died some years back. There was no one to tend to her, or even care really whether she lived or died.” He took a deep breath and added, “I felt guilty. She’d been injured because o’ me family. If I hadn’t stopped to take her up on me horse that day, she never would have taken the arrow. It did no’ seem fair, or right, so I . . . I stayed at her bedside until she recovered,” he finished unhappily.

James Innes raised his eyebrows. “That was a kindness on yer part.”

“Apparently, no’ as kind as ye’d think,” Geordie said dryly. “She misconstrued me actions and decided I must love her . . . and so did everyone else.”

“Even I thought he might have finer feelings for the maid,” Aulay admitted on a sigh. “I was waiting for him to approach me about taking her as a bride if she recovered. When Katie was well along the path to healing and yet he did no’ do that, I brought the subject up with him.”

“And that’s when I realized what I’d done,” Geordie said grimly. “I stayed away from her after that, but she was near to healed by that point anyway, and was below stairs days later. She followed me around after that, giving me calf eyes, always there to fill me mug ere it was even empty, bringing me food at every turn, and offering me herself at every opportunity. ’Twas a relief to get away and go help Conran with his brother-in-law, the MacLeod,” he admitted. “When I returned and heard she’d been seeing Simon while I was gone, I thought mayhap everything would settle down now.” Grimacing, he scrubbed his face with his hands, and said, “I’m thinking now though that I was wrong.”

There was silence for a minute, and then Aulay said, “’Tis possible we’re wrong about this instead. She’s always been very pleasant to Dwyn in my presence.”

“Aye, she has in front o’ me too,” Geordie admitted. “And while Dwyn probably would no’ have said anything, I’m sure Una or Aileen would have mentioned if any o’ the servants had been anything but pleasant to Dwyn. But,” he continued quickly when Aulay opened his mouth to speak, “Katie offered herself to me after the sup the night after I returned. ’Twas an hour or so ere Dwyn stepped in the glass,” he added to make sure they knew which night. He’d returned in the middle of the night before the incident he was talking about. Now he said, “I refused, o’ course, but when I said I thought she was seeing Simon now, she shrugged and made it obvious that did no’ matter. She’d toss him over for me.” He allowed a moment for that to sink in and then pointed out, “Besides, ye said she claimed Simon fell off the horse behind her after being wounded and the mount spooked and fled.”

“Aye,” Aulay agreed, obviously not understanding what that had to do with anything.

“If she was seated in front o’ him, how was Simon gutted behind her by anyone but her?” he asked simply.

Aulay’s head went back as if Geordie had punched him. When it came back down his expression was cold. Nodding, he opened the door. “I’ll send Katie up with water.”

“Ye ken Simon wanted to marry Katie,” Rory said solemnly as the door closed behind Aulay.

Geordie turned to peer at his younger brother, amazed to realize he’d forgotten all about his even being in the room he’d been so quiet. “Nay, I did no’ ken that.”

“He told me that just yesterday,” Rory said sadly, and then asked, “What are ye going to do once Katie gets here?”

Geordie was silent for a moment, thinking that this was his fault. That he should have told Simon Katie wasn’t faithful and had tried to get him to sleep with her. Perhaps he would have broken off with her. Perhaps he wouldn’t have ridden out with her today. Perhaps he’d still be alive and Dwyn would still be here rather than captured by a man who meant her nothing but harm.

Sighing, Geordie straightened his shoulders, and said, “I’m going to get her to admit what she’s done and tell me where Brodie has Dwyn.”

Rory nodded and began to gather his medicinals. “We should leave, then.”

Baron Innes didn’t argue and Geordie soon found himself alone, waiting for someone he hoped like hell could tell him where his wife was. Because if he was wrong about this, he didn’t know how they’d find Dwyn.

“Surely ye do no’ expect me to believe that nonsense, lass? Ye’re no’ married to Geordie Buchanan. Ye canno’ be!”

Dwyn tore her gaze from Father Machar, who sat tied up in the corner of the tent, and turned to peer at Faolan Brodie. “Why? Because it disrupts yer plans to force me to marry ye?”

She watched the rage grow on the man’s face and braced herself to be hit, but he merely roared, “Nay! Because there’s been no wedding! Katie made sure o’ it. The last thing she wanted was for you to marry Geordie Buchanan. She wants him for herself. ’Tis why when he started paying ye too much attention she spread glass on the floor outside the garderobe, and why when that did no’ work she poisoned yer drink. It was all to keep ye away from Geordie.”

“Katie? The maid?” Dwyn asked with amazement.

“Aye, sweet wee Katie the maid,” Brodie said with a laugh, and took great pleasure in telling her, “Apparently, yer betrothed was tupping wee Katie not so long ago and then sat at her bedside night and day for two weeks while she was recovering from an injury. She’s sure he loves her and that only his brother’s disapproval stands between them. She plans on removing that obstacle soon enough, but first she has to be rid o’ you ere ye can marry the bastard and steal him out from under her nose. And since I did no’ want ye marrying the bastard either, because I wanted ye fer meself, it behooved us to work together.”

Dwyn stared at Brodie, but wasn’t really seeing him. She was trying to come to grips with the fact that the sweet, smiling maid, Katie, was a murderous, two-faced bitch. She could hardly credit it. The girl had been nothing but kind to her, always eager to help, always carrying trays of food up for her . . . well, food trays meant for Geordie while he was ill, she realized. But Katie was also always offering to fetch wildflowers to scent the rushes in . . . what was essentially his room. Besides, it was probably when she was able to slip away to meet Brodie. Still, she was always nearby, smiling and refreshing their drinks, bringing the platters of food to them . . . Perhaps she’d always refreshed Geordie’s drink first, and moved on to fill Dwyn’s only when Geordie pointed out her drink could use topping up as well, and perhaps the platter had been held between them and a little closer to Geordie than her, but— Dear Lord, the woman was crazy in love with Geordie, Dwyn realized.

She took a moment to accept that, and then cleared her throat and asked, “How do ye ken Katie?” Dwyn had barely asked the question when another was shooting from her mouth. “And how did ye even ken me family was here?”

Brodie scowled briefly, but then said, “I kenned ye were here thanks to Deoiridh.”

Dwyn blinked. “Deoiridh, the chambermaid at Innes?”

“Aye. Her sister married one o’ me men some years back and lives at Brodie. The two visit though, and when last she visited, yer Deoiridh apparently told her sister—me man’s wife—all about the Buchanan bridal hunt business, and that ye were on yer way here. He, in turn, passed the information on to me. Unfortunately,” he added grimly, “that was near a week after ye’d already left fer Buchanan. So, while I gathered me men together and rode out almost at once, ye were already at Buchanan before we caught up to ye. The best I could do was camp here on MacGregor land, and send a handful o’ men to lay low in the woods o’ Buchanan to watch the keep for an opportunity to steal ye away.”

He scowled at the inconvenience of it all, and then continued. “And that is how I encountered the lass.”

“You were in the woods with yer men?” Dwyn asked uncertainly.

“Nay.” He scowled at the very thought. “But she ran into me men in the woods the night she poisoned ye.” Smiling suddenly, he said, “Apparently, all the Buchanans were fussing over ye while ye were retching, including Geordie Buchanan, which was the exact opposite o’ what she’d intended with the poison. She left the keep in a fine dander, and headed down to the loch to try to come up with another way to be rid o’ ye. But she got distracted when she met me men. She serviced all o’ them fer a coin, and as she did, they asked her a lot o’ questions about you. Katie asked questions o’ her own in return, and when she realized I wanted to marry ye, she demanded to be brought to me. She told them she could help.”