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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: Devil of the Highlands
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"He thinks that other incidents besides the one on the stairs may have been attacks?" She had come to that conclusion herself, but was almost afraid to hope her husband might agree. It meant he might not see her as a completely clumsy fool.

"Aye. He suspects the bull being loosed in the paddock was deliberate, too," Mac said. "Hamish has managed that barn for many years. Not once in that time has anyone but he let Angus out… until the day ye were in the paddock. And then there is the arrow while ye were in the tree in the woods. The laird suspects someone was following ye through the woods, and the arrow was shot at ye while ye were climbing."

Evelinde sagged against the stall door. "Why has he said none of this to me?"

"More importantly, why would anyone want ye dead," Mac said dryly. "Cullen and I have tried to sort that out. But 'tis most difficult. The problem is that if someone is trying to kill ye, 'tis probably tangled up in the other deaths, but 'tis hard to sort out who would have committed all three murders because we cannot find a common motive. If the uncle's death was murder, the most likely culprit would have been Cullen's father, Liam.

He was the only one to gain from it. He became laird," Mac pointed out.

Evelinde's eyes widened at the suggestion.

"But, then, if Liam's death was murder, and 'twas the same murderer, then Cullen is the most likely suspect since the death of both men saw him become laird."

She stiffened then, but Mac was already continuing, "But it isna him."

The conviction in his voice made Evelinde curious. "How can you be sure?"

"Cullen's spoken of his father to me, and I can hear the affection and respect in his voice. He'd no have killed his father to gain a title. But, even if he hadn't felt so about Liam, he wouldna," Mac said solemnly, then admitted, "I listened to his men speak on the way here, and have watched him since arriving and—" Mac turned to her, letting her see his very serious and certain expression as he said, "The boy is one of the most honorable men I've ever met."

Evelinde nodded slowly, she had already begun to see that herself and to appreciate his thoughtful and kind ways… despite his frustrating silences.

Mac turned back to the horse, before adding, "It takes a strong man no to take advantage of his position to punish those who have wronged him, but Cullen has done nothing to gain retribution for the rumors and whispers. And then there is how he has treated you."

He paused again to glance at her. "Cullen recognized what Edda was right away, ye ken. Despite having traveled and camped out for five days to reach d'Aumesbery—he didna take the opportunity to rest there a day or two ere returning. He headed straight out with ye, riding night and day so ye'd no have to endure her abuse a minute more than ye had to."

Evelinde's eyes widened incredulously. "That is why we left right after the wedding?"

"Aye."

"I wish he had told me so," she said with frustration. Truly, it was such a sweet and thoughtful thing to do.

The man had ridden himself to near exhaustion just to prevent her having to bear any more insults from her stepmother, and she hadn't even known.

"He isna the sort to flaunt his good actions," Mac said with a shrug. "The point is, I am sure Cullen isna the one behind his father's death. So, while he is the only one we can tell gained anything from it, someone else must have gained something, too." He was silent for a moment, then added, "Without Maggie's death, I would consider Tavis a likely suspect. He may have hoped to gain the title of laird for which he had been passed over."

"But he was just a boy when Darach died," Evelinde protested.

"Aye, but that one may truly have been an accident," he pointed out. "If it was, Tavis may harbor a secret bitterness that he did not become the laird on Darach's death, the title going to Liam, then on to Cullen when Liam died."

Evelinde's eyebrows rose slightly. She hadn't considered this.

"However," Mac went on. "Did Tavis want the title, it should have been Cullen killed, not little Maggie, and as far as we can tell, no one at all gained from her death." He shook his head. "Hers is the one that really suggests the other two werena accidents e'en though hers is inexplicable. And then there are these attacks on you. No one would gain from yer death either."

Evelinde bit her lip and then admitted, "Biddy thinks little Maggie was killed because she was asking questions about the other deaths. She thought little Maggie was trying to gain Cullen's love by clearing his name."

Mac stopped working and turned to glance at her in surprise. "Was she now?"

"Aye," she said, then shifted uncomfortably under the sudden narrowing of his eyes.

"Ye wouldna be doing the same, would ye, lass?"

Evelinde avoided his gaze. "Doing the same what?"

"Ye've been asking about the deaths," he accused with certainty in his voice.

"I have," she admitted reluctantly. "Not that I've learned anything."

She could see the conflict on his face as he stared at her and knew he was torn between giving her hell and asking her something. In the end, he asked, "Who did ye ask questions of? Was Tavis one of them?"

"Nay. He was not here at the time. I asked Biddy, and several of the other maids in the keep. I talked to Scatchy, too, and Fergus and Gillie."

Mac frowned. "And yet none of the accidents occurred until after Tavis returned from escorting yer wagon, Mildrede, and me here."

"Nay," she agreed.

"One of them could have mentioned it to Tavis," Mac said with a frown.

"You think 'tis Tavis, then?" Evelinde asked with interest.

Mac's expression was conflicted, then he admitted, "Me instincts tell me no. He seems a lighthearted sort, more interested in women than the responsibility of laird, but…" He shook his head. "If the motive is to gain the title of laird, then he is the most likely suspect besides Cullen."

"Should he not then be trying to kill Cullen?" Evelinde asked slowly.

"Aye, and mayhap he will, 'tis hard to say when we are unsure of the reason for any of the murders," Mac said slowly as he shook his head. "If all three were murdered, this killer is not just clever enough to escape discovery but almost frighteningly patient. There were ten years between the uncle and Cullen's father, then four between that and little Maggie's death."

"And now two between her death and these accidents," Evelinde muttered, then fretted, "Cullen was nearly injured when he tried to save me from the bull. He could easily have died that day. If Angus was deliberately loosed, whoever did it may have realized Cullen was nearby and would try to save me."

"That is a lot of hope on the killer's part," Mac pointed out. "Besides, he was not the target when you fell on the stairs."

"Mayhap," Evelinde said quietly, then pointed out, "but he left the room just ere me to go below that day. He may have been the target then and, with his long strides, simply missed whatever it was I later tripped over."

Mac frowned, and asked, "He wasna there when the arrow was loosed though, was he?"

"Nay, but as Cullen said that day, the arrow may have been in that tree for years. It may simply have been something else I heard," she pointed out.

"That is the trouble here," Mac said with disgust. "We are not sure what are accidents and what are not.

Everything is so uncertain. We may be imagining murderers where there are none. 'Tis no wonder it has remained a mystery all this time."

"Aye." Evelinde sighed. She didn't know what to think about anything now.

"Ye never did say how ye managed to slip free of Gillie and Rory," Mac prompted, changing the subject. She suspected he was trying to prevent her worrying about things, but it wasn't going to work. She would let him change the subject, but worry about Cullen had now firmly buried itself in her thoughts.

"I said I was going to the solar, and—"

"I knew I'd find ye here."

Evelinde closed her mouth and turned guiltily to peer up the aisle as that impatient comment interrupted her.

Cullen stood, glaring at her from the stable doors, exasperation on his face. When she merely peered back at him, he moved forward so that he could loom over her and glower up close.

Evelinde glowered right back. Truly, the man was a trial to her. If he spoke at all, it was only to order her about or snap and snarl like a rabid dog. How a man could behave with such consideration and thoughtfulness on the one hand but not manage to speak other than to growl was beyond her.

"I was most displeased when Gillie came to find me to say ye'd slipped his guard. I ordered ye to stay in the castle."

"Aye, and mayhap if you had told me
why
you wished it, I would have," she told him. "Though, it seems to me I'm hardly safer there since one of the accidents you worry over took place in the keep itself."

Cullen frowned. "That's why the men are watching ye. To keep ye safe."

"And what if one of them is the culprit?"

"Gillie and Rory were barely more than bairns when my uncle was killed," he pointed out with a dismissive wave.

"And if his death really was an accident? They were older when your father and Maggie died."

"That's why there are two watching ye. If one is the culprit, the other surely isn't, and ye be safe. Now get ye back in the keep where yer supposed to be," Cullen growled, moving past her to enter his horse's stall and begin saddling him.

Evelinde ignored the order and followed him instead. "Where are you going?"

"I am riding out to Comyn."

"By yourself?" When he merely turned and peered at her as if that was a stupid question, Evelinde asked,

"Can I come?"

"Nay."

"Why? Surely I am safe with you?" And you are safer not alone, too, she thought, worried that he might be a target as well.

"Wife—" Cullen paused, and shook his head, apparently at a loss.

Mac had been watching their exchange with amusement, but now said, "Ye may as well give in, lad. She's persistent is that one. Besides, 'twill do the girl some good to get out for some fresh air. She has been trapped inside for near a week now."

Cullen hesitated, then gave in with a sigh.

"All right," he said, turning back to finish saddling his mount. "But ye'll ride with me."

Evelinde didn't protest. She would have preferred riding her own mount, but wasn't risking putting up a fuss and possibly making him change his mind about allowing her to accompany him.

"Cullen and Tralin used to get up to such mischief! His mother and I would spend half our time fretting and the other half laughing at their frolics."

Evelinde returned Lady Comyn's smile, and asked curiously, "Did Tavis never play with them?"

Lady Comyn hesitated, her gaze thoughtful as she peered down at her mead. "Tavis was four years younger, and the two of them were forever leaving him behind. He tended to stay close to his mother."

"And you and Biddy didn't keep up your friendship after Cullen's mother died?"

Lady Comyn smiled sadly, then admitted, "We did at first, but…" She sighed. "It was very hard. Being together afterward was rather sad. It made us remember what we had lost. We still visited each other, but not as often. After Darach died, Biddy seemed to retreat somewhat. She spent more and more time in the kitchens."

Ellie Comyn shrugged. "We drifted apart."

Evelinde was about to ask another question when the doors to the great hall opened to allow Cullen and Tralin to enter.

"'Tis time to leave," Cullen announced as he reached them.

Evelinde nodded and thanked Lady Comyn for a lovely time. She then allowed her husband to escort her out of the keep to where his horse was already awaiting them. Within moments they were passing out of the bailey and heading back to Donnachaidh.

They had ridden for quite a while when Cullen suddenly asked, "Did ye enjoy yerself?"

Evelinde twisted her head around to glance at her husband. He so rarely spoke, his asking the question was a pleasant surprise.

"Aye. Lady Comyn is lovely. We had a nice talk," she answered, and it was true. While Cullen and his friend Tralin had disappeared down to the stables to look at a new horse, Lady Comyn had shown Evelinde her gardens. They had enjoyed a pleasant walk before stopping to rest and chat over a refreshing mead. She really had enjoyed herself. Evelinde had learned some things she hadn't known ere this. It seemed that Tralin and Cullen had been friends for some time. Lady Comyn had been friends with Cullen's mother while she still lived, and the two women had visited back and forth quite frequently while the boys were young.

"Did you?" she asked in the hopes of keeping her husband talking.

"Aye. Tralin is a good friend."

Evelinde grinned and admitted, "She told me of some of your exploits when you and Tralin were children. It sounds as if the two of you got into a good deal of mischief."

A small smile tugged at Cullen's lips, but all he did was grunt.

Evelinde hesitated, then asked, "Husband, would you show me where your father went off the cliffs?"

BOOK: Devil of the Highlands
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