Sisters Three (Completed)

26. Brenna (1/2)

The room smelled of sour bile and the heavy toxicity of approaching death. Brenna held her sleeve up to her wrinkled nose in order to try and get a reprieve from the stench. She shifted her weight and rolled her eyes up to examine the ceiling. An ornate scene of a hunting party had been painted onto the wood paneling, making the room seem shorter and dark. Her eyes flicked from a man on a horse to the stag which lay on the ground with an arrow speared through its side. Blood squirted in a gruesome fountain from its wound, and Brenna wondered how anyone could sleep with that macabre scene hanging over their head.

Someone suppressing a wet sniffle drew Brenna's attention down again. She glanced at the small group of ladies, clustered by the doorway, dabbing at their eyes. Brenna was faintly surprised that no one had forced them out with claims that the delicate female sensibilities would be severely compromised by the witnessing of a poisoning. Maybe everyone was too focused on the wilted and sunken form of Robert Glenfarrow to even think about women in the room. Sighing, Brenna wished someone would notice her and send her from the room.

Brenna's gaze fell briefly on Morna, who stood to one side of Robert's bed, dipping a rag into water and plastering it on his forehead. The generals clustered behind her, whispering and muttering with furtive eyes. No doubt they were discussing what would happen when Robert Glenfarrow finally gave up his tentative grip on life. As awful as it sounded, Brenna just wondered if only the old man would get on with it a little quicker. They'd been cooped in the room for three hours, and she was queasy at the amount of times he'd vomited. She'd never get the smell out of these clothes. It clung like tar.

One of the court ladies scurried forward and tapped Robbin's arm. He stood just behind Brenna, so close that the heat from his skin warmed her. When he stepped back to bend his ear to the woman, Brenna frowned and wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill.

Not wanting to give the appearance of caring, yet burning with curiosity, she casually stepped backward until she was close enough to hear the conversation between her husband and the woman.

"...so sorry for you and your brother. I pray for your father's recovery, but should it not end well... know that I am here should you need any help."

Brenna snorted and the woman looked up sharply. Brenna tossed her hair over her shoulder and pretended to be fascinated with her sister and the dying man across the room. When the woman turned away to dip a curtsey, Brenna was tempted to snort again. As if that woman thought she had any worth to be used to Robbin or Afton should they be thrust into power sooner than they'd thought. She might be able to fetch a glass of water, but Brenna doubted her use would go beyond that. Stupid girl.

At that time, Morna turned from her seat on the edge of Robert's mattress and caught Brenna's eyes. She crooked her finger, and Brenna followed the silent summons. The generals watched her closely but didn't try to stop her as she approached her sister.

Morna glanced up as she dipped the cloth in a bowl of water on the side table, and pressed it to Robert's forehead. He gleamed with sweat mixed with water. Brenna could practically smell the poison seeping from his body.

"It's not looking good," Morna whispered. "He hasn't moved an inch since..." She trailed off, and Brenna couldn't blame her. A half hour before, Robert had a crazed fit, as if demons tortured him, and then vomited once again- only, this time it was bright red with blood. It was then that Afton rushed out, saying something about finding an antidote.

As if anyone even knew what poison had been used.

Soon after Robert had taken ill and the use of poison had been highly suspected, the guards under Robbin's control were sent to search for any possible suspects. They'd found a man, unknown to any in the household, hidden in a linen closet on the second floor. Unfortunately, Robbin's men had stupidly killed the man before any questions could be asked. A fury had evidently seized them at seeing the cowardly form of the man who had dared to harm the father of the heir, and they'd sliced him down still amongst the cotton sheets. They were too used to battle and the freedom that anger brought there. Brenna held out scant hope for the foolish idiots. Robert lay dying because of their short foresight.