Lucerne rubbed at her temple. “I think about three or four months ago, though the headaches are more constant since my arrival here.”
“Was there any change in your servants or who prepared your food or drinks at that time?” Elsa asked.
Lucerne gave it thought and shook her head. “None that I recall.”
“My suggestion to you is to make certain you know who handles your food and drink and see how you feel over the next few days. I would prefer not to give you anything, not even for the headaches since I do not know what you are already being given. My potion could make it worse rather than help it, so it is best you take nothing until we see what happens.”
“You will eat only food that Flanna brings to you,” Cree ordered
Lucerne shook her head. “I forgot about something. I have a small pouch that contains a mixture that I use to make a nightly brew.”
“Have it brought to me,” Elsa said.
“Where did you get the mixture?” Cree asked.
Dawn listened to the exchange wishing she could join in. She almost did once or twice, when Cree asked the questions she was about to ask.
“It’s a mixture my mother’s family has brewed for years. The servants keep it available to us.”
“That means many were aware of it and anyone could have tainted it,” Cree said.
A knock sounded at the door and Cree called out for the person to enter knowing it was someone Elwin knew that Cree would wish to see.
Sloan entered. “I found Bree; she’s dead and it appears that someone has murdered her.”
Chapter Thirty
Cree had Lucerne escorted back to the keep and a guard assigned to her until Sloan could resume his duty and watch over her. Elwin was to take Dawn back to her cottage, but there was a problem, she refused to go. She wanted to go with Cree and find out what had happened to Bree.
“You are not coming with me,” Cree said adamantly, draping Dawn’s cloak over her shoulders. “You will return to the cottage and wait there for me.”
Dawn shook her head vehemently.
“Do you truly believe you will win this argument?”
“She might,” Sloan said and Cree turned a murderous scowl on him. “Bree’s body was found in the woods behind Dawn’s cottage.”
Cree fisted his hands at his sides, furious that the young woman had been murdered so close to Dawn’s home.
“It’s also not far from where those tracks came to a dead stop,” Sloan said. “Yet no one has been spotted there.”
“Let’s have a look,” Cree relented and took hold of Dawn’s hand. “You will not leave my side.”
She nodded and gripped his hand.
Cree looked to Elsa who had stood silently by the hearth during the exchange. “Get Lucerne’s pouch of herbs and see what you can find out. I’ll have Neil sent to accompany you.”
She nodded. “Aye, my lord.”
They left the cottage and Dawn had to keep a swift pace to keep up with Cree’s angry strides. With such a venomous scowl villagers were quick to move away from him, though she heard their whispers. And so did he.
Once they rounded her cottage Cree came to an abrupt stop and turned to Sloan. “The people are already questioning my ability to keep them safe. First with the attempts on Dawn’s life that are yet to be solved and now with this murder of a young woman they had befriended. I will not have my leadership questioned, and I certainly will not have my clan at risk. No one rests until the murderer is found.”
“I already have Henry seeing if there are any tracks to be found and I have men scouring the surrounding area to see if they can find anything,” Sloan said.
“Good,” Cree said and looked to Dawn. “Are you certain you wish to see this?”
She nodded without hesitation.
“If you should change your mind—”
She shook her head, this involved her, and Cree needed help. There was no way she was going to be left out of it.
“You’re a stubborn one,” Cree said, though with a hint of admiration.
Dawn smiled and slowly shook her head, patted his chest, and then her own and held up two fingers snug against each other.
Cree leaned down, brushed his lips over hers and whispered, “You’re right about that, we stick together always.”
Sloan led them to where Bree’s body was found and while Dawn thought she was prepared for what she would see, she wasn’t. The pretty young lass had been beaten about the face so badly that she was barely recognizable and blood pooled forming a pillow beneath her head while the snow flurries had deposited a light blanket over her. The fingers on her one hand looked to have been broken and her ankle appeared to have been stomped on.
Dawn had to look away for a moment, her stomach protesting the gruesome sight.