“And none believed it evil to kill an innocent bairn?” Elysia asked, heartbroken that anyone would even think of doing such a horrendous thing.
“It is a thought that has often troubled me. Fate must have spared the bairn for a reason, though why when she lost her life not long after?” Lady Margaret sighed. “I’ve tried to make sense of it all these years but realized it makes no sense. There are days I curse Aila for what she did to my family, but then I realize her family suffered as well. And wouldn’t I have done the same to keep my sons from being killed?” She took hold of Elysia’s arm. “It’s a fate no mother should be forced to face.”
A rapid knock at the door sounded before it swung open.
“You are needed, Lady Elysia,” Dorrit said, a look of alarm on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Lady Margaret asked, leaning forward in her chair.
“Deara is in need of healing,” Dorrit said.
“Hurry and help her, Elysia,” Lady Margaret said with a wave of her hand. “Deara is such a sweet lass. I wouldn’t want her struck down by the curse.”
Elysia dropped her stitching in her basket after standing, then looked to Lady Margaret. “I’m sure it is nothing to fear.” Though, the distress in Dorrit’s eyes warned otherwise.
Lady Margaret stretched her hand out to grab Elysia’s hand. “You must take the curse seriously or it will strike at you.”
Elysia patted the woman’s hand. “I take the curse more seriously than you know, Lady Margaret. I will see that a soothing brew is brought to you. Worry not, all will be fine.”
Any hope her words rang true were dashed when Dorrit whispered to her after leaving the room.
“Deara is dead, stabbed like Glenis.”
“Good God,” Elysia said, keeping her voice low, fearful her words would carry to Lady Margaret’s room. Questions were on her tongue to ask, but a glance at Dorrit told her that wasn’t the whole of it. She waited until they were taking the stairs down to ask, “What aren’t you telling me, Dorrit?”
Dorrit slowed her steps bringing Elysia to a stop. “Deara was found barely alive. She struggled to speak, to beg for help and when asked who did this to her—” She tightened her lips afraid to say.
Elysia’s stomach twisted in fear as she urged, “Tell me, Dorrit.”
“Lendra. She said that Lendra did it.”
Elysia shook her head. “That’s impossible. What possible reason could Lendra have for killing Deara?” She didn’t wait for a response, she hurried down the stairs and into the Great Hall where she found Lord Fergus and Finch talking.
“Where is Lendra?” Elysia demanded.
“Locked away in a hut where she belongs so she doesn’t hurt anyone else and where she will stay until she hangs,” Fergus said, having the authority to see it done.
“Lendra would never do such a thing,” Elysia argued.
“Deara declared it with her dying breath,” Fergus snapped. “She is guilty and she will hang for it.”
Elysia saw that there was no talking to Fergus. His mind was made up, but she would not let Lendra die for something she knew the woman was not capable of doing. “Who found Deara and heard this accusation?”
“Stiles did,” Finch said, “It has been suggested that Lendra probably killed Deara to make it look like Bram was innocent of killing Glenis in hopes perhaps of Bram being returned here.”
“You’re wrong,” Elysia continued to argue. “Lendra may foolishly love Bram but she would never be foolish enough to kill in hopes of having him returned here.”
“Desperate women do desperate things,” Fergus said annoyed at being questioned.
“Like Lady Aila did the day you and the two other lords arrived at her home to kill her two-day-old daughter?” Elysia asked, anger sparking her every word.
“You forget who you speak to,” Lord Fergus reprimanded.
Elysia did not hold her tongue. “And you forget what it is to be a wise leader?”
“Your husband will hear of your impertinence,” Fergus warned.
“Aye, he will, for I will tell him,” Elysia said and turned with a flourish, grabbed one of the cloaks off one of the pegs near the door and hurried out of the keep.
The heavy rain quickly soaked Elysia as she hurried toward the hut where Bram had been held, assuming Lendra would be held there as well.
“My lady!”
Elysia stopped and turned to see Stiles rushing toward her.
“You should not be out in this weather, Lady Elysia,” Stiles said. “Let me escort you back to the keep.”
“Not until I speak with Lendra,” Elysia said, wiping the rain from her face.
“Lord Fergus ordered that no one is to speak with her,” Stiles said. “Please let me get you back to the keep.”
Elysia shook her head and hurried off, not caring if Stiles followed and not caring what Lord Fergus said. She intended to speak with Lendra and she intended to let no one stop her.