The music stopped and he grabbed onto the table next to him. Dropping the violin, he clutched onto his stomach and went down onto his knees.

"Oh heavens!" She leapt to her feet. What was wrong with Aiden? Men gathered around him, trying to help.

Isobel stepped down from the dais. She'd go fetch the healer. But it was as if a shadow passed over her vision, the candles suddenly dimming. She grabbed onto the back of a chair, turned her head and blinked her eyes, but her vision remained hazy and blurry.

Saints! What was wrong with her? A shrill ringing assaulted her ears. She covered them trying to block out the horrid noise, but it wouldn't stop. Was the ringing inside her head? Nausea seized her stomach. She gagged, feeling as if someone had their hands around her throat, strangling her. She dropped to her knees.

***

Dirk was in the dungeon, questioning and locking up three members of Haldane's group of outlaws, when one of the servant lads burst in.

"M'laird, 'tis Lady Isobel and Master Aiden! They've fallen ill."

What the devil? "Take care of things here," Dirk told Cyrus and Rebbie, then followed the young servant up the steps from the dungeon. "What happened?" he demanded, shouting against the icy wind that swirled through the bailey.

"We know not, m'laird. They've both been struck with some mysterious illness, their faces red, swollen and hot. They are frantic and can't stand."

"Saints!" The two people he loved most in the world. How could they both be sick at the same time? "Where is the healer?"

"Inside, trying to help them."

Dirk ran up the steps and into the keep. In the great hall, pandemonium reigned.

He plowed through the people crowding the large, noisy room. He spotted Isobel first, on the floor near the high table. She thrashed about, her face red. Jessie and a few other women knelt over her, attempting to help her.

"What the hell happened?" he asked, dropping to his knees and lifting Isobel into his arms. Her whole body radiated heat to an alarming degree.

"Nannag says poison," Jessie said in a strained voice, tears in her eyes as she was near hysterical.

Poison?

Fear lanced through Dirk. Maighread's visage popped into his mind. Could she have poisoned them from inside the prison of her bedchamber? He glanced across the room toward the people surrounding Aiden. Would she have poisoned her own son, the person she was willing to kill for? It didn't make sense.

"Where is Nannag?" he asked.

"There." Jessie pointed.

The healer approached with two more female servants carrying stoneware jugs.

"Make her drink this," Nannag said, handing one of the jugs to Jessie, while a maid set a wooden bucket on the floor.

"What is it?" Dirk asked.

"Vinegar and warm water. 'Twill make her vomit and expel the poison."

"Are you certain?" He didn't want to do anything to make her worse.

"Aye, somehow they got ahold of deadly nightshade," Nannag said.

Who else would use deadly nightshade but Maighread? Damn her. How had she poisoned Isobel and Aiden, of all people? Why would she poison her own son and her best friend's daughter? His cupbearer had not only tasted Dirk's food, but also Aiden's and Isobel's. Maybe he hadn't tasted the poison, or consumed enough to make him sick.

"Give Aiden some vinegar too," Dirk ordered, glancing his way and, when the crowd parted, seeing he was in the same shape as Isobel.

Nannag and a servant moved away as Dirk held Isobel's head up. She was talking nonsense and waving her hands about.

"Isobel, drink this." He held the jug near her mouth, but she turned her head this way and that, clutching onto her throat. "Jessie, make her drink it while I hold her still."

Jessie nodded, tears streaming down her face. Swiping them away, she poured some vinegar water into a mug.

"Isobel, drink. It will help," he said, holding her arms down and her head immobile against his shoulder. Saints, he could not lose her. He had told her true—she was the most important person to him. He had never felt as close to anyone, and he wanted her by his side the whole of his life.

She trembled all over. And though her eyes were normally dark brown, they were near completely black now, and her face scarlet. But her constricted breathing and gasping terrified him most.

"Don't let her get choked."

Jessie shook her head as she carefully allowed Isobel to drink the warm vinegar water from the mug.

Isobel got one sip down, grimacing and shaking her head. "Dirk," she rasped along with other words. "Too loud." She tried to move her hands up to her ears.

"Give her more," he told Jessie, his heart racing. Each moment the poison remained inside her, the more dangerous. "Her stomach has to be purged."

"Aye." Jessie held the cup to Isobel's lips, but she tried to turn her head away again.

"Damnation, Isobel, drink," he commanded in a harsh but low tone near her ear. "I can't lose you."

She shook her head, then accepted the vinegar, showing true effort this time to get the vile liquid down.

"Aye, drink a lot of it, lass. You have to vomit and get rid of the poison."

He could already hear Aiden vomiting behind him. Thank God. This gave him hope.

"We're getting married tomorrow, aye?" Dirk asked Isobel, praying they still could. His heart broke at the thought of losing her the day before she would become his wife.

She nodded, jerkily, and whispered, "Wedding."

"Well, then, you have to drink all this so you'll get better."

She accepted more of the horrid drink while Jessie administered it. Isobel nearly choked and started coughing. Dirk leaned her forward, over the bucket, hoping she'd vomit any minute. He didn't want to have to stick his finger down her throat.

She gagged and he leaned her closer to the bucket. She shook her head and started sobbing.

"Saints, Isobel. You have to vomit, now."

Hell, he'd never had to order anyone to vomit. But she did, finally. She retched and the vinegar water came back up along with half her meal. He and Jessie supported her while she clutched at her stomach. He held her head, the skin of her forehead still feverish.

Another bout of retching consumed her and she vomited twice more.

"That's good. Get all the poison out, Isobel," he said, relief helping him relax a bit.

"What the devil happened here?" Cyrus demanded, crouching at his elbow.

"Isobel and my brother were poisoned with deadly nightshade. It had to be in the food. Could you go make certain none of the kitchen servants leave the premises?"

"Aye, of course. Will she be well?" Cyrus asked, eying Isobel with much concern.

"I hope so, once all the poison leaves her system. Maybe you and Rebbie could question the servants."

"Indeed." Cyrus strode away. Dirk knew how the man was. He needed something to do, to take action during a crisis.

"How do you feel?" Dirk asked Isobel.

Her only response was a shake of her head.

"Get her some fresh water, Jessie, to rinse her mouth."

"Does your stomach hurt?" he asked.

"Nay," Isobel rasped.

"Is the nausea gone?"

She nodded.

He lifted her into his arms, praying she'd emptied her stomach and that none of the poison remained. He set her on a chair and Jessie gave her water to rinse her mouth.

Dirk turned to see how Aiden fared. His normally pale skin was just as red as Isobel's at the moment. "How is Aiden?" Dirk called to those helping him.