Devil of the Highlands (21 page)
Read Devil of the Highlands Online
Authors: Lynsay Sands
"His death or her sister's?" Evelinde asked.
"His," he assured her solemnly. "Oh, she was broken-hearted when Jenny died. Wept and wept she did. My father spent a deal of the two weeks before his death just holding and comforting her. But after he died." Tavis shook his head. "She retreated into herself, started disappearing all the time, either to the cliffs to sit by Jenny's grave or into the kitchens and away from the rest of us. I think her heart was broken, and she just couldna bear to love anymore. Not even me," he added with a wry little smile that was both sad and charming.
Evelinde frowned, her heart twisting for the young boy Tavis would have been at the time. At the tender age of ten years old, he'd found himself orphaned by one parent and abandoned by the other. "Who looked after you? "
Tavis shrugged. "Uncle Liam did what he could for me. And the rest of the ladies around here offered comfort as they could."
The wicked grin on his face suggested that comfort wasn't always just hugs, and Evelinde frowned, wondering just how old the boy had been when he'd been initiated into manhood.
"Do you remember Jenny?" she asked abruptly, wishing to change the topic.
"Aye." Tavis smiled faintly. "She was great fun the first time she was here. Happy and gay, always laughing.
Cullen and Tralin used to run off all the time. They thought they were too old to play with me, but not Jenny.
She let me trail her about all the time." He frowned suddenly, then admitted, "Well, at first she did, then she took to sitting out on the cliff, looking out over yon valley below, and she started sending me away more often than not. I could follow her anywhere but the cliff."
"Why?" Evelinde asked curiously.
Tavis grimaced. "She said 'twas because it was dangerous and that she wished to be alone to think."
"But you didn't believe her?"
Tavis shook his head. "I followed one day. There is a door in the outer wall at the back of the castle. There is a trick to opening it, and I didna ken the way back then, but I could climb the tree and did…" A wicked smile came to his lips again. "She wasna alone, and they werena thinking."
Evelinde's eyebrows rose. "Who was she with?"
"I doona ken," he admitted. "I couldna see very well. All I saw were a man's legs entwined with her on the ground. The branches of the tree I was in were in the way. I barely caught a glimpse before I leaned out too far and fell out of the tree." He smiled wryly, and admitted, "I didna want her to ken I'd been spying on her and be angry, so I took myself off back to the castle for my mother to tend me scrapes and bruises."
They were both silent for a moment, then Tavis said, "It wasna long after that she left. A couple of days, mayhap. Mother was out hunting rabbit to make some of her stew to give Cook some ease, and Aunt Jenny disappeared to the cliff, only to come running back sobbing fit to die. I thought she'd hurt herself, but she didna appear to have an injury. When I tried to ask her if she was all right, she yelled at me to leave her alone and pushed me out of her room. She came out a few minutes later with just a small sack with a few gowns in it and hurried down to the stables." He shrugged. "She rode off, just like that, without even a word to me mother, or anyone."
"By herself?" Evelinde asked with amazement.
"Nay, three men escorted her."
"Who?" she asked at once, thinking that Jenny's lover mayhap have been among the trio.
Tavis considered the question, but then shook his head. "I am no sure. I was standing on the keep stairs.
'Twas too far away to see more than that there were four in all riding out of the stables."
"Well someone must have arranged for her escort," Evelinde pointed out. "Your father, perhaps?"
Tavis considered the question, then shook his head. "I doona remember seeing him about. He had ridden out on his horse before Jenny went for her daily walk to the cliff."
Evelinde was frowning over this when Mildrede entered. The maid was lugging several items with her; a besom, a pail of water, rags, and other cleaning items, and Evelinde rushed forward to take the besom and a bundle of rags as Tavis took the pail from her to prevent everything from tumbling from her hold.
Tavis set the pail aside, then straightened and moved toward the door. "Well, I'd best go below and get out of yer way. We'll be in the great hall if ye need us."
He then slipped from the room before she could ask any more of him. She supposed he was afraid he'd be asked to help clean, something the men were more likely to do now, but only in exchange for pasties and she had none with her. She could have sent for some of the women to help, but the room was small enough the two of them could manage. Evelinde turned her attention to beating away the cobwebs overhead while Mildrede began sweeping the rushes toward the door.
As she'd feared some wee beasts had taken up residence. Both she and Mildrede were sent squealing a couple of times when the mice were disturbed and sent running. That brought Tavis and Fergus running each time, until Evelinde got the pair to help remove the rushes she had drawn together in one huge pile by the door.
Both balked at the very suggestion, but after some promising to ask Biddy to bake a whole batch of pasties just for them, it was decided that one could help while the other continued to act as guard. It fell to Tavis to help Mildrede cart the rushes away while Fergus remained in the great hall and watched the solar door as they'd been doing. Evelinde, they insisted, was to continue about her work in the solar. Neither man thought it would be good to annoy Cullen by letting her leave the castle.
Supposing that was better than nothing, Evelinde watched Mildrede and Tavis gather as much of the old rushes as possible. As they left the room, she considered the dent they'd put in the pile and guessed it would take the pair at least two more trips back and forth to get it all out.
Turning back to the chandelier she'd lowered to clean, Evelinde continued digging away the candle wax that had accumulated over the years, her mind going over what she'd learned from Tavis.
She wasna alone, and they werena thinking.
It sounded like young Jenny had a lover. A foolish mistake when she'd known she was going to marry the Campbell, a man known for cruelty. The only thing Evelinde could think was that the girl had hoped her lover, whoever he was, would marry her and save her from the Campbell. It would have taken a powerful lord to be able to do that and withstand the retribution that would have followed from the Campbells. But the only powerful lord at Donnachaidh was Darach, and he was already married, in no position to marry and save her.
As far as Evelinde knew there hadn't been any other powerful lord visiting at the time… Though, she thought suddenly, there had been the son of a powerful lord who had come to the keep back then and still did. Tralin.
Evelinde slowed in her work on the chandelier as she considered that. Cullen had said Tralin had thought Jenny the prettiest lass he'd ever seen. What if she had liked him in return? Jenny had obviously been meeting her lover at the cliff for privacy. Could it have been Tralin? Could she have hoped he would marry and save her from the Campbell?
Evelinde blinked and straightened as she realized there
had
been another powerful man… Cullen's father, Liam.
Nay, she realized in the next moment and bent back to her work right away. Liam had not been powerful in his own right until after his brother's death, when he'd taken on the title and position of laird… and that left her considering Tralin again.
Jenny's leaving in tears could only mean that whoever her lover was, they'd had argued. Evelinde wondered briefly who he might have been, but there was something else troubling her. Tavis said Jenny had left without a word to her sister. If so, then who had arranged the three-man escort for her? Darach?
Evelinde chipped away another large piece of wax, wrinkling her nose as the acrid scent of smoke wafted to her. It was as if the scent was embedded in the wood itself, she thought with disgust, then frowned as she realized that the smell was not of burning tallow, but—
She glanced around sharply, eyes widening in dismay as she saw that the torch Mildrede had set in the holder by the door had somehow fallen on the rushes piled in front of the door, and they were aflame.
Evelinde snatched up one of the damp rags she'd been using to scrub off the window ledges and moved toward the fire with some vague intention of beating it out, but dry and ancient as the rushes were, it was spreading quickly, the flames shooting up and out with a hunger that was alarming. She would not be able to beat them down, and she could not go for help, the fire blocked the door. Evelinde was trapped.
Cullen's expression was grim as he rode into the bailey. The incident with the arrow in the tree had bothered him since he'd begun to suspect some of his wife's accidents might not have been accidents at all. Finally, today he'd ridden out to the woods to find the tree his wife had been climbing and climb it himself to get a look at the arrow. One look had been enough to tell him that the arrow had not been long in the tree. It hadn't rained since the incident, and the fletching was pristine. Also, the wound in the bark around the arrow was new, not old and healed. Someone
was
trying to kill his wife.
Cullen had tried to pull the arrow from the tree, but it had sunk in deep enough he'd had to give up. He'd then examined the shaft and fletching to see if there was anything unusual about it that might lead him to the person who had loosed it, but the fletching was of common goose feathers. Most used goose, and some, very rarely, used swan feathers when making arrows. Some used a combination to make them more distinctive, but this was very common fletching and could have belonged to any number of Donnachaidh people.
Disappointed that the arrow wouldn't tell him anything about the person who had shot it, Cullen had climbed back down the tree and headed straight back to the castle. He'd suspected someone was trying to kill his wife since Hamish had spoken up at the bull's paddock, but having it confirmed like this made him anxious for Evelinde. Seeing her and assuring himself that she was well was the only thing he could think of to help put him at ease.
Cullen was debating whether he shouldn't put four men on her rather than just the two as he slipped from his horse and entered the keep, but all his thoughts scattered when he spotted Fergus seated at the great hall trestle tables alone.
"Where is Tavis?" he asked, his gaze sliding toward the chairs by the fire in search of his wife. When he didn't see her there, he frowned, and added, "Where is me wife?"
"Tavis is helping Mildrede cart dirty rushes out to be disposed of," Fergus answered slowly. "And yer wife is in the solar."
"By herself? Yer supposed to be guarding her," Cullen snapped.
"Aye, but she said she did not want us standing about getting in her way, and we can see the solar door from here," Fergus pointed out. "No one could get past us down here to trouble her."
Cullen scowled at the words, his head swiveling toward the bit of landing visible from here and the only door one could see from below. The solar door. His heart leapt into his throat when he saw that it was ablaze.
"Evelinde!" The name tore from his throat in a roar of agony as he bounded up the steps two at a time.
Cullen recognized the fear and pain in his own voice but hardly heeded it. His ears, his mind, his whole body was straining for some answering call from his wife to tell him she yet lived. However, it brought him little relief when he heard her answering call as he reached the landing. Her voice had come from the solar, and now he knew for certain that he had something to fear.
Cullen charged to the door, then came to an abrupt halt as he found himself confronted with a wall of flame.
It was as if someone had built a giant bonfire right in the doorway. The flames were nearly as tall as he, and what he could see of the room was full of smoke.
"Water!" he roared, turning on Fergus as the man reached his side.
The soldier turned away at once to charge back down the stairs. Cullen glanced back to the room, his heart twisting as he saw a dark shape he thought was his wife, bent over and coughing by the window. She could die in there from the smoke ere Fergus managed to return with water.
Cullen ground his teeth together and backed away from the door a few steps.
"I'm coming, wife. Get out of the way," he roared.
Cullen heard her shout something in response, but was already running forward, charging the flames. He would not lose Evelinde. He could not lose her. He loved the silly, talkative, sweet woman.
"Nay, husband, I have water!" Evelinde shouted between coughs, then gave up her protest to leap to the side as she saw Cullen rushing the flames from the hall.
The stupid man is going to get himself killed when if he'd just waited a moment, I could have put out the fire
, she thought impatiently.
It had taken Evelinde a moment to recall the pail of dirty water in the room, a precious moment during which the fire had grown wildly, and she'd heard her husband shout for her. She cursed that moment of stupidity as she watched Cullen try to leap the flames. He might have managed to do so were it not for the doorframe. There simply wasn't enough room for his tall body between the top of the flames and the upper ledge of the door.
Much to her relief, Cullen had the sense to tuck his head down as he jumped, but his shoulders still hit the doorframe, and he crashed back down short of safety.
Evelinde screamed in alarm, her heart lodging itself in her throat as he came down at the edge of the burning rushes, but in the next moment, he'd thrown himself forward and rolled away from the fire.
"Are you all right?" she gasped, hurrying to his side as he regained his feet.
"Aye," Cullen growled, grabbing her by the arm and urging her to the window as she began to cough again.
Once she'd drawn in a couple of fresh breaths and stopped coughing, he asked, "What happened?"
Ignoring the question, Evelinde peered over him a bit frantically for any sign of burns or injury, repeating,
"Are you all right?"
He had given her such a fright! The likes of which she hadn't experienced since the day her father had died.
She'd had that same sickening lurch in her stomach when he'd clutched his arm, turned grey, and tumbled from his seat, but it was a sensation she'd never experienced before or since then… until now, with this man. It told Evelinde that her feelings for her husband were much stronger than she'd imagined. Somehow, despite his frustrating silence, the man had found his way into her heart.
"I'm fine," Cullen assured her, catching at her fluttering hands. "We have to get out of here."
Evelinde's eyes widened with alarm, and she scrambled away from him and across the room when he reached for her. She had no doubt he intended to scoop her up in his arms and carry her out of the room, but there was no need.
"Wife!" he snapped, following, but paused when she picked up the pail of water in the corner. However, when she headed toward the flames to throw the water on them, he was suddenly at her side.
"Give me that," Cullen snapped, taking the heavy pail. When she released it easily and bent to cough as the smoke irritated her throat and lungs again, he ordered, "Wait by the window. The air is better."
Evelinde grimaced at his sharp tone, but when she opened her mouth to protest and ended coughing again, she gave way and did as instructed. She watched worriedly from the window as Cullen braved the heat of the flames quickly and efficiently to douse the fire. The water didn't put it out entirely, but it was enough that he was able then to beat out the rest of the flames with the damp rags she fetched for him.
"What happened?" Cullen asked as he beat out the last of the flames.
"I am not sure," Evelinde admitted, using another damp rag to try to wave the slowly dissipating smoke out through the window. "I think the torch fell out of its holder and onto the rushes."
His expression told her he doubted it had done so on its own, but she continued, "I had just remembered the pail of water when I heard you shout. I tried to yell at you not to risk yourself until I had doused the flames, but…" She shrugged, not bothering to point out that he hadn't listened.
Cullen merely grunted, and bent to peer at something in the embers. Giving up on the smoke, Evelinde moved up behind him to see what it was, her eyes moving over the torch lying in the center of the pile. When his gaze then lifted to the holder beside the door, she followed his glance, noting that the holder was tipped to the side as if to suggest the brace had slid, and the torch had fallen out. The problem was that even she could see that had the torch fallen out, it would have fallen closer to its holder, not the good foot and a half it had somehow traveled to land in the center of the rushes.
"It was not an accident," Cullen growled, straightening.
"Nay," Evelinde agreed quietly, but wasn't surprised. She hadn't heard it fall. Surely had it tumbled from its holder in some natural fashion, she would have heard it hit the floor? There should have been a thump, or at least a rustle of the rushes. However, there had been no sound to warn her. The smoke had been her first and only warning.
"But it would have looked like one had the fire done its work and destroyed the torch ere we got it put out,"
he continued grimly. "The tilted holder would have suggested it had fallen out on its own."
"Aye." Evelinde sighed, then watched silently as he straightened and moved around the embers to the iron holder fixed into the stone wall by one large bolt. There had been two when Mildrede had put the torch in earlier. Evelinde swept the floor with her eyes but didn't see the second bolt anywhere. She then glanced back to Cullen as he turned the holder upright and saw his mouth tighten when it moved silently. When he then gave the bolt still in the wall a tug, it came out easily and equally silently, which explained why she hadn't heard a thing.
Tossing the torch holder aside with disgust, Cullen turned back to sweep her into his arms and step over the still-smoking embers. They met Fergus as Cullen carried her into the hall. The older man was out of breath, a pail of water in each hand and several women behind him with more.
"The fire is out, but the embers are still hot. Douse them well," Cullen growled, then carried Evelinde to their room.
She could have walked, but already knew from past experience that there was no sense arguing with Cullen.
The man would carry her when he wished, and, apparently, he wished to now. Evelinde remained still in his arms as he strode to the door of their chamber, reached out to open it when he growled the order to do so, then waited patiently as he carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind them. However, the moment he stopped beside the bed, she kicked her legs and asked him to set her down.
Cullen hesitated long enough that she thought he would refuse, but then he reluctantly set her on her feet.
The moment he did, Evelinde dropped to her knees before him and began examining his legs for burns.
"What are ye doing?" Cullen asked, trying to step away.
Evelinde hooked one arm around his leg to hold him in place and continued her inspection, even going so far as to lift his plaid to check his upper legs and thighs.
"Wife!" He tried to brush her hands away, and she glanced up, surprised to see that the man was actually blushing at her efforts.
"I wish to be sure you suffered no burns when you landed in the flames," she explained, and pushed his plaid up again, surprised to find a growing erection staring back at her. While her interest was purely out of concern for his well-being, it appeared Cullen was finding it all rather… interesting.
Shaking her head, Evelinde continued to peer over his skin, crawling around him to check the back as well.
She had just lifted the back of the plaid and noted that he really had a very nice bottom when Cullen appeared to reach his limit. Turning swiftly, he caught her under the arm and dragged her back to her feet, his expression exasperated.
"I am no burned," he growled. "And I am more concerned with you at the moment. Ye breathed in a lot of smoke. Does yer chest hurt?"
"Nay," she assured him solemnly, then couldn't resist grinning and adding, "Would you care to check me for burns?"
Cullen's mouth dropped open at the bold invitation, then he shook his head on a reluctant laugh as he pulled her into his arms for a hug. The chuckle ended on a sigh as he rested his chin on her head, and said, "Yer going to be the death of me, wife."
Evelinde's own smile faded at the soft words as fear claimed her that she might indeed be the death of him did such "accidents" continue. While the fire suggested she was the target, Cullen could have been killed today trying to save her from it. Had she not had the bucket of water inside the room, they would both have been trapped in the smoke-filled chamber. Evelinde was sure he couldn't have leapt back through the burning rushes carrying her, and was equally sure he would have tried rather than leave her there to stay and smother to death in the thickening smoke. She had no doubt Cullen would have saved her, but he could very well have burned himself badly doing so, and burns often ended in infection and death.
"Have I told ye yet today how much ye please me fer a wife?"
Evelinde stilled at those soft words and leaned back to peer at him. Something about the softness in his eyes made the breath catch in her throat. She thought it might be more than the simple caring of a husband for his wife.
"What the devil happened here?"
"Where is my lady?"
Evelinde and Cullen both glanced toward the closed bedchamber door at the startled cries from the hall. It seemed Mildrede and Tavis had returned from their first trip to remove rushes. Not that they would have to make many more trips, she supposed wryly. The rushes were now a pile of charred and soggy ashes on the solar floor. A frown claimed her lips as she wondered if the floor would now need repairing.
A sigh from Cullen drew her attention back to him as he eased her away and turned toward the door.
Evelinde started to follow, but, he paused at the door and glanced back to order, "Stay put. I shall send a bath up to ye."
Evelinde scowled at the door when he pulled it closed. She was reaching to open it when she heard Cullen begin shouting in the hall. He was giving Fergus and Tavis the sharp side of his tongue for not staying with her but leaving her to work in the solar alone. She considered going out to explain that she'd told them there was no need, but then thought better of it. Cullen wouldn't see that as a good excuse for their not following his orders.
He blamed the men, and nothing she said was going to change that. In fact, Evelinde suspected her intervention would just annoy him further and make it worse for the men.
Sighing, she turned away from the door and moved back to the chair to await her bath.
"No one went above stairs," Fergus repeated for the fourth time. "The torch must have fallen out by itself."
"It didna fall out by itself," Cullen growled with frustration.
"But no one went above stairs," the older man insisted. "I was watching the whole time."
"Ye didna look away even fer a minute?" Cullen asked grimly.
"Nay," Fergus assured him.
"Well…" Both men paused and glanced to Tavis as he spoke the word. The man cast an apologetic glance to Fergus, then pointed out, "Ye did come help with the door."
Fergus's shoulders sagged, and he ran one hand wearily through his hair. "They both had their hands full with the rushes, so I hurried over to the door to open it for them," he admitted on a sigh, then rallied and added,
"but that only took a moment, surely not enough time for someone to get upstairs without me noticing."
"Apparently it was," Cullen growled, furious that the man had failed him like this. Fergus was usually the most dependable of men. It was why he had been first for so long, first to Cullen's father, then for himself.
"Well, they could not have got up
and
down in that time," Fergus pointed out, sounding frustrated. "It had to have been an accident."
"They could have waited up here and slipped away while I was in the room, and you were below fetching water," Cullen pointed out.
The point did not please the man. He shook his head stubbornly, and insisted, "It had to have been an accident. I cannot believe anyone would—"
"It wasna an accident," Cullen interrupted furiously, then added, "In future, whoever is guarding my wife is to remain in the room with her, or follow wherever she goes. Understood?"
"Aye," Fergus and Tavis said as one.
Cullen let his breath out on a pent-up sigh. He wasn't satisfied. Evelinde had nearly died, and it was leaving him with an urge either to make love to her and hold her close for a good several hours or, alternately, to smash something. Unfortunately, Mildrede had rushed off to the chamber to see that her mistress was all right as soon as he'd begun yelling at the men, and the servants even now were trudging up the stairs with the tub and water he'd ordered before laying into Tavis and Fergus for allowing this to happen. Making love to his wife was out, and as much as he'd like to, striking one or both of the men before him was not an acceptable choice at the moment either. Angry as he was, he might very well kill one or both of them.
He needed an outlet, however, and turned abruptly away from the men to head for the stairs. A rant with Mac, then a hard ride on his mount should help him use up some of the heated blood pouring through his veins, Cullen thought, but paused and scowled with frustration as he realized he couldn't get down the stairs until the women got up them with the tub.
His angry glare was on the women as he waited impatiently, but then it turned to a concerned frown as he noted the struggle the women were having with the tub. It was taking four of them to cart the item, which made negotiating the stairs with it a tricky business, and Cullen suddenly recalled his wife's claiming that a couple of men to work in the keep would ease the burden somewhat. It would only have taken two men to handle the tub, which would have speeded up the process and made it less difficult.
