Page 47 of Highlander’s Evil Twin

He was almost upon her. What if she died in her sleep? She had to keep running, but the ground was sodden now as the rain kept falling. She was being sucked into the natural bogs, sinking past her knees and up to her waist and all the while, he was laughing. She was desperate to clamber out, crawling, and pulling herself across the grasses, hoping they would take her weight. But this was like quicksand. She was held fast and being sucked down into the depths. There was nothing she could do.

She could hear herself. “Wake up, wake up.” But it didn’t sound like her voice. Connor was laughing hysterically as she sank into her muddy deathbed.

“Wake up!”

It sounded like Hiram, but he wasn’t here. He wouldn’t be here in time to save her. Yet still, Connor tormented her. Now she was in the mud up to her neck. There was no escape this time. It was a trap. He wasn’t dead. He was alive.

“Come back to me. Heather. You must wake up. Heather, please.” There was desperation in that voice.

She felt his plea and for a second, felt renewed strength. She needed him. Hiram? She tried to call his name, but the mud sucked at her skin. She couldn’t get away. The cries were consistent. She held onto the words. It felt just for a second as if she was being pulled free. She fought to escape the mud, lifting free, trying to break the surface of the dream. Her eyelids flickered, tears welling up, rolling down her cheeks. She was burning, the heat from the sun, and her lips, dry and parched, and her skin feverish.

The touch was insistent. She felt it soothe her skin. She felt breath upon her cheek, kisses and words of love. Then Hiram’s voice broke through further.

“Heather, you must wake now.” Insistent, demanding, she could not ignore him.

Her eyelids fluttered open. She saw his face, as if in a dream, distorted...but then it was him. Gradually, her vision cleared and her tears subsided. She gasped in air, realizing how she had only just escaped that muddy grave. Swallowing hard, she recognized Hiram and the doctor gazing down at her with great concern.

“What is it? What’s happened?

Hiram and the doctor looked at each other, their expressions serious.

“Doctor?” she repeated, her heart lurching in sudden fear.

“You my dear, have been poisoned.”

27

“Poisoned?” She sat up too quickly and groaned, the room spinning around her.

Hiram held her hand, gently stroking her soft skin. “It is lucky that I came back. I don’t know how long you were like this, but you were very ill. Oh Heather, you nearly died.” Tears rolled unashamedly down Hiram’s face.

“But how? I am confused. I haven’t taken any poison.” She looked from Hiram to the doctor.

“It appears that small amounts have been added to your food for weeks,” the doctor said, shaking his head. “It was a concoction of sorts, so very hard to detect.”

“That’s why you have been getting ill here.“ Hiram looked ashamed. “No wonder you regained your health when at your parents’ home...no one was trying to kill you there.”

“I still don’t understand,” she said weakly.

Hiram took a deep breath. “I’m afraid it was mother,” he said. “Apparently she has been back for weeks, hiding in her quarters.”

Realization dawned. “The creaking noises and footsteps upstairs!”

“You heard her?”

“No. Yes. No, not really. I was just vaguely aware of creaking floorboards occasionally. I wondered if it was Maggie one day. I didn’t suspect your mother at all.” Heather was perplexed. “But it couldn’t have been that straightforward. She would have been seen if she had been poisoning my food.”

“She paid someone to do it, Heather. You know the little girl you were teaching to read? It was her mother. She’d been paid handsomely by mine to add a few drops of this tincture into your food. This concoction was designed to drug you but some of the herbs are quite dangerous and so you could have easily died. She employed someone in England to create a vial of it while there. I’m not sure if she was seriously trying to kill you or was hoping to drug you so she could take Alistair.”

Heather’s eyes opened wide. “Where is he?”

“He is safe. Don’t worry. Little Helene saw her mother acting suspiciously and followed her. She saw her with her mother and they had Alistair. They were leaving. Helene raised the alarm. She knew that you would not let anyone take Alistair.”

“They tried to steal him? Your mother has been planning this all this time.” She couldn’t quite believe it and yet, it was so vile that it had to be true. “All this time that I have been feeling ill, it was because of some poison?” The information would not sink into her mind. She felt confused. Like she was observing this scene rather than participating. She swallowed hard. At least baby Alistair was safe. She had come so close to losing him to those evil, twisted women.

“You must hate me Heather an,d wish you had never married me.” Hiram’s eyes were downcast, tears still wet on his cheeks. He looked so forlorn that she reached out one trembling hand to wipe the tears away.

“Why would I hate you?” She was incredulous. “I love you. You did nothing wrong.”