deep voice.
“Aye. That hairpin is hers. The others probably are as weel,” Morainn replied. “I cannae tell ye if they fell out as she did her evil work or if she left them apurpose, however.”
“As a sign, mayhap,” murmured Simon.
The man had recovered from his shock quickly, Morainn thought. There was a look in his steel gray eyes that told her he was already working on these new facts, trying to put the puzzle together. She began to doubt that there was much that could shock the man for long. Morainn wished there were more men like Sir Simon Innes. She suspected fewer innocent men would die on the gallows.
“Why would she leave a sign?” asked Harcourt. “And why leave something so common that no one can read whatever message she is trying to send?”
“’Tis nay so common,” said Morainn and felt herself blush a little when all the men looked at her.
“Common ones are made out of wood or the bones of chickens, mayhap ducks or geese. Sometimes even a sheep. That one is made from the antlers of a stag and it has a wee design carved upon it.”
Simon carefully studied the hairpins and then cursed. “I am nay so weel acquainted with such things that I can tell one animal bone from another, but a common hairpin wouldnae have a fancy design etched into it.
That costs money, as does one made of antler horn. ’Tis a rose, I think.”
“The perfume,” Tormand murmured.
Morainn stared at him in such surprise she barely kept herself from gaping. “Ye ken who it is?”
“Nay, I had a dream last night, a dream about these murders, and I smelled the perfume.”
The way he was looking at her and the heat that entered his gaze told Morainn that he had dreamed about more than the killings, but she forced her mind back to the matter of her vision and what it might tell them about the killers. Later she would consider what it meant when a man she was attracted to had a dream the same night she did and, she guessed, one that was probably very similar to hers. It took all of her willpower not to blush when she thought of what had happened in that dream before it had turned into a nightmare.
“Heavy, cloying, almost too strong to tell what it is, for all ye wish to do is pinch your nose shut,” she said.
“Exactly like that. Ye have smelled it, too?”
She nodded, forcing herself to think only of the dark parts of her dreams, the ones that had to do with the killings and not the hunger the man stirred within her. “In every dream I have had about these killings. I Page 41
ABC Amber Text Merger Trial v ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abcmerge.html
wondered on it, but then decided it must be the way the vision was trying to tell me that it was a woman being killed. The voice I heard in the dreams wasnae clear enough for me to ken if the one who spoke was a mon or a woman. Yet, in one of those dreams the hand that held the blood-soaked knife was small and delicate.”
“But ye have seen no faces?” asked Simon.
Morainn shook her head. “Nay. Weel, nay yet. Each dream gives me a wee bit more. The perfume, then the voice, then the hand. The vision I got from touching the hairpin gave me more.” She swallowed hard, fear of what else she might see making her blood run cold, but she could not let that fear stop her from helping in the hunt for this vicious killer. “Mayhap if I hold another one I will see a face or some other thing that will help ye find these killers.”
Simon gave her a gentle smile. “Nay, not today. From what I saw, such visions are hard on both body and mind. Rest a day or two and we will try another then. I have put the one ye have already touched aside so that ye will nay have to see its secrets again.”
“But another woman could die while we wait.”
“Aye, there is that chance, but your gift does us no good if ye use it until ye are ill or broken in heart and mind. Rest. We can return on the morrow if ye think ye will be able to abide touching another one. For now
“Aye. That hairpin is hers. The others probably are as weel,” Morainn replied. “I cannae tell ye if they fell out as she did her evil work or if she left them apurpose, however.”
“As a sign, mayhap,” murmured Simon.
The man had recovered from his shock quickly, Morainn thought. There was a look in his steel gray eyes that told her he was already working on these new facts, trying to put the puzzle together. She began to doubt that there was much that could shock the man for long. Morainn wished there were more men like Sir Simon Innes. She suspected fewer innocent men would die on the gallows.
“Why would she leave a sign?” asked Harcourt. “And why leave something so common that no one can read whatever message she is trying to send?”
“’Tis nay so common,” said Morainn and felt herself blush a little when all the men looked at her.
“Common ones are made out of wood or the bones of chickens, mayhap ducks or geese. Sometimes even a sheep. That one is made from the antlers of a stag and it has a wee design carved upon it.”
Simon carefully studied the hairpins and then cursed. “I am nay so weel acquainted with such things that I can tell one animal bone from another, but a common hairpin wouldnae have a fancy design etched into it.
That costs money, as does one made of antler horn. ’Tis a rose, I think.”
“The perfume,” Tormand murmured.
Morainn stared at him in such surprise she barely kept herself from gaping. “Ye ken who it is?”
“Nay, I had a dream last night, a dream about these murders, and I smelled the perfume.”
The way he was looking at her and the heat that entered his gaze told Morainn that he had dreamed about more than the killings, but she forced her mind back to the matter of her vision and what it might tell them about the killers. Later she would consider what it meant when a man she was attracted to had a dream the same night she did and, she guessed, one that was probably very similar to hers. It took all of her willpower not to blush when she thought of what had happened in that dream before it had turned into a nightmare.
“Heavy, cloying, almost too strong to tell what it is, for all ye wish to do is pinch your nose shut,” she said.
“Exactly like that. Ye have smelled it, too?”
She nodded, forcing herself to think only of the dark parts of her dreams, the ones that had to do with the killings and not the hunger the man stirred within her. “In every dream I have had about these killings. I Page 41
ABC Amber Text Merger Trial v ersion, http://www.processtext.com/abcmerge.html
wondered on it, but then decided it must be the way the vision was trying to tell me that it was a woman being killed. The voice I heard in the dreams wasnae clear enough for me to ken if the one who spoke was a mon or a woman. Yet, in one of those dreams the hand that held the blood-soaked knife was small and delicate.”
“But ye have seen no faces?” asked Simon.
Morainn shook her head. “Nay. Weel, nay yet. Each dream gives me a wee bit more. The perfume, then the voice, then the hand. The vision I got from touching the hairpin gave me more.” She swallowed hard, fear of what else she might see making her blood run cold, but she could not let that fear stop her from helping in the hunt for this vicious killer. “Mayhap if I hold another one I will see a face or some other thing that will help ye find these killers.”
Simon gave her a gentle smile. “Nay, not today. From what I saw, such visions are hard on both body and mind. Rest a day or two and we will try another then. I have put the one ye have already touched aside so that ye will nay have to see its secrets again.”
“But another woman could die while we wait.”
“Aye, there is that chance, but your gift does us no good if ye use it until ye are ill or broken in heart and mind. Rest. We can return on the morrow if ye think ye will be able to abide touching another one. For now
Similar Books
