Devil of the Highlands (23 page)

"That was a heavy sigh."

Evelinde glanced to Tralin with a start, then forced a smile. "I was just thinking."

"They must be heavy thoughts to have produced such a sigh," he murmured.

She considered him briefly, then glanced around the room, becoming aware that most people had finished eating and were leaving the great hall. There were few still seated. Mildrede had left the table and was now mounting the stairs to the second level, no doubt to see how much damage the fire had done in the solar, she supposed. Tavis had left his seat and was presently flirting with one of the maids clearing away the lower tables. Even Fergus had left the table and now stood talking to Gillie by the keep doors, no doubt giving him instructions about something. Despite the fact that he was talking to Gillie, the man's eyes were on her, she noted, and her mouth flattened with displeasure. She suspected she would have eyes on her every moment of the day until she resolved the matter of who was behind these accidents and the deaths in the past.

Turning back to Tralin, she announced, "Cullen and I stopped at the cliff where Jenny is buried on our return from Comyn the other day."

Tralin raised an eyebrow, curiosity clear on his face. "Oh?"

"Aye. He said you fancied Biddy's sister, Jenny, . when she visited here."

A slow grin broke out on his face. "And ye wish to ken if he fancied her, too."

"Nay," Evelinde assured him quickly. "I just wondered if 'twere true."

He considered her with raised eyebrows for a moment and nodded. "Aye, I fancied her."

Evelinde was trying to figure out how to ask
if
he'd been her lover when he added, "No that it did me any good. She had eyes for another."

"Another?" she asked with interest.

"Darach."

Evelinde stiffened, her eyebrows rising. "Biddy's husband?"

"Aye." Tralin laughed at her expression, then explained, "Darach was—Actually, he was much like Tavis is now," he said with a shrug, his gaze sliding to the man.

Evelinde followed his gaze to see that Tavis was whispering something in the maid's ear that had her blushing and giggling.

"He was very similar in looks, too," Tralin continued. "Darach was fair-haired and handsome as Tavis is, and even more charming if you can imagine it."

Evelinde narrowed her gaze on Tavis as he slid an arm around the maid and drew her against him as he continued at her ear, though it was hard to tell if he were speaking or nuzzling the lass. The maid was looking a bit dazed, and Evelinde actually felt sorry for the girl, sure she was finding his attentions somewhat overwhelming. The man was definitely comely, and more than charming when he tried. She'd seen him working that charm on a few occasions since the men had arrived with the wagon. Just the night before, Evelinde had watched him tease, and flatter, and whisper to one of the maids she'd thought was more sensible until the girl allowed him to lead her to a quiet corner for more than talk. It looked to her as if this maid would hold up no better against his charms.

"Tavis causes quite a stir among the women, but Darach—" Tralin shook his head "He had every single female who came into his presence aflutter; from the very youngest to the oldest. How could a youth like I compete with that?"

Evelinde turned her gaze back to Tralin to see the wry expression on his face as he shook his head, and continued, "I was just a callow youth to Jenny compared to Darach's attentions. He teased and flattered her, and she soaked up every word like a flower desperate for attention."

"And Biddy did not mind?" Evelinde asked slowly, wondering for the first time if Darach
were
the lover. If he were, he had been a despicable cur, taking advantage of a young noblewoman like that. Not to mention his own sister-in-law.

"Nay." Tralin waved the thought away. "She knew it was all teasing. We all did. Although, I think Jenny might have been naive enough to believe every word he said. As much as she thought herself so much older and more sophisticated than Cullen and I—we were a whole year younger than she," he added, rolling his eyes. "In truth, she was terribly naive."

"She was only fifteen then?" Evelinde asked with a frown.

"Aye," Tralin said, and shook his head sadly. "And a young fifteen. She never would have survived marriage to the Campbell."

Evelinde nodded, and murmured, "Cullen mentioned that she was betrothed to marry him."

"Aye. I doona ken what her father was thinking agreeing to the match." He shook his head, but then added cynically, "Or, actually, perhaps I do. The man was imagining all that Campbell wealth and the powerful connections that the marriage would bring him. 'Tis no wonder the lass killed herself."

Evelinde considered that, her gaze sliding to Tavis, who was seated on the bench where the maid had been working. She was no longer working, however, but was seated in his lap, her arms around his neck, the rag she'd been cleaning the table with trailing down his back as he kissed her most thoroughly and eased one hand up her skirt.

Evelinde turned her glance quickly away, shaking her head at the man's idea of guarding her. Fergus was still watching her closely, of course, but… Her gaze slid back to Tavis, and she frowned. She had no difficulty believing Tavis might think nothing of charming his way under an unmarried noblewoman's skirts… if he thought at all before doing such things. Evelinde suspected the man didn't think at all, at least not with his head.

And if Darach was as Tralin described…

Turning back to Tralin, she asked, "You are sure Tavis's father would have left Jenny alone?"

Tralin frowned at the question, and for one moment she saw uncertainty flicker on his face, but then he shook his head. "Nay. Darach was a bit of a rogue and liked to lift the skirts of the willing servant or wench, but he would never have dallied with a young noblewoman. And he would hardly ruin his own wife's sister. Biddy would have killed him did he try."

Biddy would have killed him did he try.

Evelinde stared at the crack of light coming through the window a couple of feet from the bed and yawned wearily. She hadn't slept well last night. Her mind had been taken up with what she'd learned from Tralin.

Cullen had returned to the keep after Tralin had spoken those words, preventing her asking further questions, but it hadn't stopped Evelinde from thinking over everything she'd learned.

While Tralin had said he was sure Darach wouldn't have ruined Jenny by taking her as a lover, he hadn't appeared certain. The only thing that might suggest Darach hadn't been Jenny's lover was that Tavis had told her that his father had ridden out of the bailey just before Jenny had gone for her walk the day she'd come back weeping and fled. However, it was possible Darach had ridden out and around the curtain wall to the cliffs. He could have been the girl's lover.

It didn't speak well of either Biddy's sister or husband if they were lovers, but if Darach was as bad as Tavis, Evelinde didn't think his conscience would trouble him much. She certainly didn't see much in the way of conscience in Tavis when it came to the way he dallied with the women here. He got what he could from each woman and went merrily on his way to the next like a bee flitting from flower to flower, uncaring of the havoc he left behind.

As for Biddy's sister, Jenny had been betrothed to a horrid man known for his cruelty and abuses. She may have been desperate enough to get involved with her sister's husband in a bid to save herself, or simply for a last grab at happiness before being forced into the marriage.

Evelinde could almost understand that herself. Her own behavior the day she'd learned she was to marry the Devil of Donnachaidh had been less than exemplary. She had let Cullen kiss and touch her in ways she still found difficult to believe. And she had justified it by using the horrid marriage she'd thought was in her future.

Telling herself it was the only pleasure she might experience in her life. She couldn't even honestly say she would have pushed him away sooner had she known he was married, though she'd like to think she would have had she had a sister and he been her brother-in-law. And she wasn't even as young as Jenny had been.

Evelinde yawned again and sighed as she thought that a child like Jenny might be able to justify taking her sister's husband as a lover that way. She might even have hoped the man might somehow find a way to save her from the marriage.

She frowned at the possibilities floating around in her mind. Had Biddy found out her sister and husband were lovers? Was this one indiscretion she hadn't been willing to forgive Darach? And why had Jenny returned after leaving so abruptly? Had she even really killed herself. It was possible she'd felt bad about dallying with her sister's husband and killed herself, but it was possible her death was just another murder covered up.

Biddy could have murdered Jenny and her husband after finding out about them, she supposed, but if so, why kill Cullen's father all those years later, she wondered. Had Cullen's father, Liam, somehow figured out what had happened all those years, confronted her, and brought about his own death? Or perhaps that had simply been an effort to correct the injustice Biddy might have felt she'd caused by killing Darach while her son was too young to take over the position of laird. Her own son had been passed over due to Darach's premature death. She may have hoped the title would be passed on to her son rather than Cullen if she killed Liam.

As for Maggie, either the questions she'd asked had made Biddy nervous enough to make her kill her, or Maggie had actually somehow stumbled onto the truth, bringing about her own death.

Evelinde scowled at her own thoughts. While it all made a sort of sense, she found it hard to see Biddy as a ravening murderer, running about killing off all those people; her own sister, her husband, her brother-in-law, and her nephew's wife. Besides, Evelinde liked Biddy and didn't want to believe the woman was trying to kill her.She really had to sort the matter out and quickly, Evelinde decided, but just wasn't quite sure how. Talking to Biddy wasn't likely to get her any answers. The woman would either be insulted if she was innocent or just lie and deny everything if she was guilty.

Evelinde supposed she could try sneaking into Biddy's room when she wasn't around and seeing if there was something that would help her find out what had happened. Letters from Biddy to her sister and back, a diary…

or maybe a written confession lying around, she thought dryly, and shifted impatiently in the bed. Still, it was worth doing.

"What has ye all upset?" The sleepy question sounded by her ear as Cullen cuddled up behind her, one arm slipping around her body.

"What makes you think I am upset?" Evelinde asked rather than answer, her hand covering his where it rested beneath her breast on top of the linens and furs.

"Because ye were sighing and huffing loud enough to wake me," he answered, and began to nuzzle her ear.

"I was not," Evelinde said a bit breathlessly, her eyes drooping closed as his lips moved over her neck.

"Aye, ye were," Cullen assured her, tugging down the linens and furs that covered her to expose her naked breasts to his seeking hand.

"Oh," Evelinde breathed, as his hand closed over one breast and he began to fondle her, his hips pressing more firmly forward so that she could feel the hardness growing between them.

"What were ye thinking about?" he asked, nibbling at her shoulder now.

Evelinde swallowed, finding it difficult to think while he was touching her so.

"Tell me," he insisted on a whisper, his hand leaving her breast briefly to slip between them to rearrange himself so that his hardness pressed between her legs and against her wet core.

Evelinde groaned as he then shifted his hips, rubbing himself across the bud of her excitement as his hand moved back to her breast.

"Tell me," Cullen repeated, plucking at her nipple as he continued to move his hips.

"About Jenny and Darach and whether they were lovers and Biddy didn't find out and kill them and—" Her words died abruptly as he suddenly stilled.

"Jenny and Darach?" he said blankly, and Evelinde twisted slightly so that she could see his face. He was looking stunned by the very suggestion.

"I know it seems unlikely," Evelinde said apologetically, "but Tavis said that Jenny was meeting a lover out on the cliffs, and Tralin suggested that Darach paid the girl a lot of attention and she seemed to have feelings for him. If Darach was like Tavis is with women, and if Jenny was really as naive as everyone thought…"

She didn't finish the words but let him come to his own conclusion, then added, "It may be a coincidence that Jenny died two weeks before the accident that killed Darach, but I find it hard to believe that she is not somehow involved. Both your father and little Maggie died in falls from the same cliff where she killed herself and was laid to rest."

Cullen was completely still and silent, but she could see the thoughts racing through his eyes, then suddenly he was rolling away from her and getting out of bed.

"Husband?" Evelinde frowned and tossed the linens aside to follow. She frowned again when she saw he was dressing, his expression grim. Biting her lip, she asked worriedly, "What are you going to do?"

"Leave it to me. I shall tend to it," Cullen said firmly as he fastened his plaid.

Evelinde worried her lip as she watched him don his sword and sgian dubh, then said, "Pray, husband, do not take this to Biddy. I may be completely wrong about all this and would not see her hurt until we are sure one way or the other."

"Leave it to me," Cullen repeated. When he saw the worry on her face, he frowned and moved before her to take her by the arms. "I'll not have ye fretting over this. Ye've suffered enough under all these attempts on yer life. I want ye happy and content wife. I love ye."

Evelinde's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open at the blunt announcement, which was rather fortuitous because it meant Cullen didn't have to urge her mouth open when he bent to kiss her. It was a very quick but thorough kiss, then Cullen set her away and headed for the door. "Get dressed. I'll be sending the men up to watch ye the minute I get below."

Evelinde was still blinking over his words when the door closed behind him. He loved her. He'd said he loved her. Dear God, her husband loved her. She moved to the bed and dropped to sit on it, then in the next moment was popping back up and rushing to dress. Cullen was going to send up whoever was guarding her today the minute he got below, and once her guards were on her, there was no possibility she could search Biddy's room. Not that Evelinde thought she was likely to find anything of use in the woman's room. Still, it was worth trying.

She had her clothes on in a trice, and didn't bother with her hair except to pull it back. Hurrying to the door then, Evelinde eased it open and peered out into the hall, relieved to find it still empty. The men had not yet made their way above stairs. She was about to slip out of the room when the door to Biddy's room suddenly opened and she saw the little woman bustle out and head for the stairs. Fortunately, Biddy never even glanced in her direction.

Thanking her lucky stars that she hadn't already been trying to creep into the woman's room when Biddy had come out, Evelinde waited until Biddy was out of view on the stairs, then slid from her own room, eased the door closed, and crept silently up the hall.

Cullen was in the solar, examining the floor. He'd been headed for the stairs when it occurred to him that Evelinde and Mildrede would probably wish to continue with their project to clean out the room. Suddenly worried the floor might not be stable after the fire, he'd changed direction and come to the solar instead, which was why he was on his haunches when he heard the door and saw Biddy bustle past. He didn't say anything to draw attention to his presence in the shadows of the room, but simply listened to her rapid tread as she hurried to the stairs and down.

He then lowered his gaze to the floor once more, but his mind was on what his wife had said in their room.

Tavis thought Jenny had a lover? And Tralin thought the girl had had feelings for Darach?

It appeared he'd been a very unobservant lad, because Cullen hadn't seen any of this at the time. Though, now that his wife had said the words, he did recall that Jenny used to light up like a torch put to flame every time his uncle entered the same room. And he could recall his and Tralin coming upon her once when her cheeks had been flushed, her lips swollen, and her gown wrinkled, the lacings not properly done up. They'd even teased her about it at the time, suggesting she must have been kissing one of the squires though they hadn't really believed it. As pretty as she'd been, Jenny always seemed so prim and snobby that Cullen found it difficult to imagine anyone wanting to kiss her. She really appeared to be a proper little thing. He was sure she never would have been caught riding around in nothing but a wet chemise, her horse's reins in her mouth and her wet gown held overhead to dry.

The memory of his first sight of his wife made Cullen smile. Evelinde, he was sure, was special, unlike any other woman in the world. She chattered away like a child one moment and snapped at him like a harpy the next, but when he kissed her, she melted like butter on a warm bit of bread. She was everything he could have wished for in a wife if he'd taken the time to worry about such things before marrying her. His only hope at the time he'd agreed to the wedding was a woman he could bear to live with, but Evelinde was much more than that, she was a woman he could, and did, love.

Cullen just wished he hadn't blurted the words out to her this morning as he had. He hadn't meant to. That had just happened. Unfortunately, Evelinde's response had been less than flattering. Her eyes had gone wide and her mouth had dropped and she'd stood there staring at him as if he'd suddenly sprouted horns. Cullen had then kissed her just to keep her from saying something he might not want to hear, but knew he'd have to hear her response eventually. He wasn't foolish enough to hope the woman loved him in return. As she had pointed out more than once, she hardly knew him thanks to his tendency not to speak. That was something he supposed he should do something about.

First, however, he had to unravel the matter of who was trying to kill her, Cullen thought, and what she'd said that morning had turned his suspicions firmly in Biddy's direction. He stood slowly, considering the matter.

Asking his aunt questions wasn't likely to get him anywhere, but a talk with Lady Comyn might shed some light on things. She hadn't visited as often then as she had when his mother was alive, but she had visited a couple of times while Jenny was at Donnachaidh and might have picked up on a thing or two.

He could also search Biddy's room, Cullen supposed, and see if there was anything in there that might help him solve this matter. Although he couldn't imagine what that might be. Still, he knew Biddy wasn't in there at the moment, and it wouldn't hurt to look around… but first he had to wring his lovely wife's neck, Cullen thought, as Evelinde suddenly crept past the open door of the solar.

Evelinde was concentrating so hard on her feet to keep from making a sound that she—like Biddy before her—didn't even cast a glance into the solar where he stood. If she had looked his way, what she would have seen was one very angry husband. Cullen had made it very clear that she was not to go anywhere without her guards, yet here she was, creeping about.

Cullen moved silently forward to follow his wife's progress. His eyebrows rose when she paused at Biddy's door and slid silently inside. It seemed he wasn't the only one who'd thought to examine his aunt's room. It was no wonder he liked his wife, Cullen decided. It seemed obvious they thought much alike.

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the solar, intending to follow Evelinde and probably scare the goodness out of her by entering while she was inside. He'd feel bad about that prospect, except that it was little more than she deserved for putting herself at risk by creeping around on her own when she knew someone was trying to kill her. If she didn't care for her own well-being, she could at least consider his feelings in the matter. He loved the woman and had no desire to experience life without her. That was odd, he supposed. Until a very short time ago, he couldn't have imagined life with a woman like her, and before meeting her, his life had seemed just fine, not horrible or lonely, but… fine. Now, however, he knew that life would be a much gloomier, unhappy existence without her there.