A Hellion at the Highland Court (The Highland Ladies #9) - Celeste Barclay Page 0,135

down the stairs. But Laurel’s skill for ferreting out information impressed him. Grateful that she’d survived the conversation without harm, he held her close.

“I was on my way to our solar,” Laurel explained.

“I ken. I heard your voice, then Colina’s. I was worried.”

The couple walked to their shared solar, and Laurel locked the door. Brodie joined Laurel on the window seat, and she recalled when he’d sat beside her on the window seat in her chamber at court. Brodie’s smile told Laurel he remembered too. They laced their fingers together, and Laurel leaned her head on Brodie’s shoulder.

“Could you hear everything?” she asked

“Aye. The woman is addlepated. There was never a choice. I never considered her as aught but my younger brother’s intended. She could have chosen me, but I never would have chosen her.”

“She basically admitted she’s responsible for me being locked in the larder. And it sounded an awful lot like she indirectly admitted killing Gara.” Laurel froze. Her heart leapt into her throat, and her mouth went dry. Slowly, she raised her head and leaned away. “Brodie, you said they’ve been married for three years. Hasn’t your mother been gone that long too?”

Laurel wished she could pull back and swallow her words when she witnessed Brodie’s stricken expression. He nodded as he stared into space. “They’d been married a fortnight when mother fell ill. Colina gave everyone the impression that she would one day be an excellent chatelaine until I married. She cared for Mother and seemed so concerned for her. But once Mother faded away, Colina no longer seemed interested in running the keep. Dominic and I thought it was grief. We thought she and Mother had grown close.” Brodie sprang to his feet. “Fuck.”

“Brodie?”

Brodie tipped his head back, an anguished groan seeming to pour out from his soul. When he looked at Laurel, the pain in his eyes made tears come to hers. “When Dom and I visited Mother, Colina would step out. Mother would become agitated. Dom and I thought she missed Colina, so we didn’t linger. She couldn’t speak much the last couple of months. Do you think she grew upset because she couldn’t tell us what Colina was doing to her?”

“Oh, Brodie.” Laurel’s heart ached. She had little doubt that Colina caused the previous Lady Campbell’s death. While Colina appeared sallow and mousy, the woman Laurel encountered today was menacing. If she’d been Brodie’s mother’s frequent caregiver, then it was likely she played a role. “I don’t know.”

“You do, Laurie. You just don’t want to say it.” Brodie sank back onto the window seat, and just as she had in her old chamber, she wrapped her arms around Brodie as he leaned his head against her middle. They remained silent, each lost in thought, but comforted by the other’s presence. When Brodie could no longer keep his thoughts to himself without going mad, he asked Laurel, “Do I tell Dominic?”

“Not yet, Brodie. He loves her. He won’t believe you.” Laurel ran her hand over Brodie’s back. “Would you believe him if he accused me of such things?”

“No,” Brodie admitted. “Do you think he’s aware?”

“I don’t know. He hasn’t been warm to me, but I don’t get the impression that he’d hurt his own mother.”

“Nay. He wouldn’t. We were both close to Mother, especially once Father died. We adored her. Her death devastated him.”

“And Colina was right there to comfort him.”

“Aye. We thought she shared our grief. I admit I was even jealous that Dom had someone to turn to, and I didn’t.”

“Then, you can’t say aught until it’s irrefutable.”

A thought struck Laurel as she considered why she’d sought Brodie out. “Has Colina taken an interest in aught at all aboot the running the keep?”

“Only the wine. She’s very particular aboot it. Dom calls it that, anyway. I call it pretentious.”

“Is she just interested, or is she involved with the wine?”

“She selects what’s served, but I don’t think she speaks to Cal aboot it.”

“Fuck.”

“Laurel,” Brodie gasped.

“You’re not the only one who kens the word,” Laurel said with a shrug. “I was coming up here to tell you, Aggie and I found tampered with wine. At least three casks. When I was looking around the other day, I noticed a funny smell from a few. Aggie told me they were newer vintages, so there wasn’t a reason for them to be putrid already. I poured one out, and Declan smashed it open for me. There was tar at the bottom of the barrel. The