Devil of the Highlands (25 page)

She ground her teeth and shook her head. "He ruined her. Jenny was a child, and he treated her like a common whore. In her naivety she thought it was love, until the last time they were together he said some very cruel things, and she fled Donnachaidh." Biddy turned furious eyes to Cullen, and said, "The night she left, Darach actually had the spine to tell me that she'd taken all his teasing and flirting seriously and that he'd had to set her straight and explain to her that he loved me," she added bitterly. "He forgot to mention that he deflowered her first and bedded her several times more."

Cullen let his breath out on an unhappy sigh at her acid words.

"Jenny was so ashamed of what she'd done, she planned to keep the whole matter to herself," Biddy said sadly. "But when she realized she was with child—Darach's child—she knew there was no way to hide it from the Campbell. She fled here scared witless and desperate for Darach's help." Her mouth tightened, and she said,

"Do ye ken what that heartless bastard did?"

Cullen shook his head.

"He said 'twas not his problem and that he would deny it was his if she tried to drag him into her shame.
Her
shame
," she said furiously. "He said if she tried to come tell me the truth, he'd get three or four of his men to claim they were her lovers, and she was nothing more than a common whore."

Biddy took several deep breaths, obviously trying to calm herself, then continued sadly, "Jenny did not know what to do. She knew the church said taking her own life would see her in hell, but felt sure she was headed there anyway for betraying me, and so she killed herself."

"I'm sorry, Biddy," Cullen said quietly, and the face she turned to him was stark.

"I forgave him for so much Cullen, for so many women… But I could not forgive him Jenny. I would not, not after I read that letter."

Biddy fell silent for a minute as she apparently reflected on the devastation Darach had wrought, then she sighed.

"I stormed below stairs, determined to confront the bastard, but you had all gone out to hunt boar." She ground her teeth. "I grabbed me bow and quiver, and rode out. I had no difficulty finding ye all. I trailed the hunting party, and when ye rode up on the boars and chaos broke out, I took me opportunity. I shot Darach as he fell, got him with the first try, and felt such peace when 'twas done."

Her expression was almost rebellious as she admitted that, but then Biddy sighed again, and continued, "It did not last long. By the time I got back to the keep the guilt had set in. It was almost a relief when ye men arrived back, and I learned he was no dead. I vowed I'd mend him, and at first he seemed to be improving, but…" She shook her head unhappily, and added, "In the end, I wasna able to save him."

Cullen stared at his aunt as the silence fell around them again. His feelings were a mixture of many emotions; pity for Jenny, grief at her abuse and wasted life, rage at his uncle for acting in such a callous and heinous way with his own wife's sister, and even pity for Biddy. Had he been the one to find that letter and read it, Cullen could not be at all sure that he himself might not have shot the bastard with an arrow. Surely, Darach had deserved to die for ruining Jenny and probably many other young noblewomen and others over the years. If her being so young and his sister-in-law—his responsibility while visiting—had not stopped him, then no woman had been safe from his unspeakable ways.

In that moment, Cullen might have assured his aunt she had done right and that they need never speak of the matter again… Except that Darach wasn't the only one dead. There were his father and little Maggie to consider, as well as the attempts on Evelinde's life.

Clearing his throat, he sat up a little straighter in the saddle, and asked, "And me father?"

"Liam?" Biddy glanced at him with confusion, then understanding crossed her face, and she shook her head.

"I had nothing to do with that. I killed Darach, but I never would have harmed a hair on yer father's head. Liam was a good man. An honorable man. He loved yer mother. He never behaved as Darach did. Nay," she repeated firmly. "I did not kill him. I truly thought his death was an accident."

"Ye thought?" Cullen prompted.

"It was Maggie's death that made me wonder. She started asking questions about the deaths of yer father and Darach, and when she was found at the bottom of the cliffs, I wondered if Liam's death had been an accident after all," she admitted. "I wondered if perhaps it had been murder, and her questions made someone nervous. It seemed too much of a coincidence that they both died from plunging off the cliff where Jenny was laid to rest."

Cullen nodded silently. That was exactly what Evelinde had said that morning.

"And then," Biddy continued, "when the accidents began happening to Evelinde, I could not but worry. I have been trying to think who could have killed Liam and little Maggie."

"Did you come up with anyone?" Cullen asked, but she shook her head.

"Nay. I simply do no understand why anyone would have killed Liam. Ye're the only one who benefited from his death."

He was just stiffening at those words when she hurried to add, "But I ken ye loved yer father, Cullen. Ye would ne'er have killed him. Ye were fond of little Maggie, too, and wouldna have harmed her either. But even if I had doubted that, I ken beyond a shadow of a doubt that ye love yer Evelinde and most surely would not be trying to kill her."

Cullen relaxed, but asked, "How did ye ken I love Evelinde?"

Biddy smiled faintly. It was a small smile, but the first she'd worn since he'd encountered her in the hall.

"Lad, yer love is plain to see in yer eyes every time ye look at the lass."

He smiled faintly now himself and nodded, his mind turning to the question of who could be behind his father's and Maggie's deaths as well as the attacks on Evelinde.

"Do ye believe me? "

Cullen glanced to his aunt in question.

"That I didna kill Liam or Maggie and am not responsible for Evelinde's accidents," she explained. "I know ye thought I was when ye brought me out here, but do ye believe me now that I—"

"I believe ye," he interrupted, and it was true. Cullen did believe her. Biddy was not the sort of woman who could kill in the normal course of events. He suspected that had she had a chance to think after reading her sister's letter, she would not have killed Darach then. But she had done so in a fit of passion. There wouldn't have been that same rage and passion with his father, and certainly not with little Maggie. Nay, she hadn't killed Liam or Maggie… which meant there was still a killer at Donnachaidh trying to make him a widower.

"Come," Cullen said, and turned his horse back the way they'd come. He suddenly wanted to get back and make sure Evelinde was safe. While he had solved a part of the puzzle that was the past and found one killer, there was another more dangerous one yet about.

"Nephew."

The firm tone of her voice made him rein in and glance back. Biddy was eyeing him solemnly, and asked,

"What will ye do with me now?"

Cullen hesitated, a frown claiming his lips. He wanted to tell her that he would do nothing, that Darach had reaped what he'd sown, but he had a responsibility as laird to uphold justice and wasn't sure he could do that.

"I am no sure," he admitted finally. "I need to think on it."

Biddy peered at him silently for a moment, then nodded and urged her horse forward.

"Yer a good laird," Biddy told him quietly as she rode past him back toward the keep. "Ye'll sort it out, and I shall accept yer decision. In truth, 'twill be a relief finally to be punished fer what I did."

Cullen didn't say anything as they rode back, but it occurred to him that Biddy had been punishing herself for the past seventeen years for killing her husband. She'd withdrawn from those she loved, banished herself to the kitchens, and refused any and all of the little luxuries that had been her right all those years. It hadn't gone without his notice that her bedroom was small and cramped and that she'd put away all her fine linens and pillows long ago, sleeping in a small, hard bed in a room as austere as a monk's cell. She also rarely purchased cloth to make new gowns, and when she did, what she chose was never the more luxurious weaves or fiber, but cloth as coarse and cheap as a lady could dare wear without shaming her family.

Aye, Cullen thought, Biddy probably would be relieved to be punished. Then, she could stop doing it herself.

He just wished he was not the one who had to decide what that punishment should be. It was times like these he wished his father were still alive to take on the burden of laird.

They rode back to the keep much more quickly than they'd ridden out. Cullen had set a slow and steady pace on the way out, thinking that they would have the long ride to Comyn and back to contend with and not wishing to tax his aunt by racing there and back. But now that the long ride was unnecessary, he urged his mount to travel at speed, checking every once in a while to be sure that Biddy was having no difficulty keeping up.

Once in the bailey, he steered his mount to the stables, and Biddy followed. However, in his eagerness to reach the keep and check on Evelinde, Cullen left his mount for Scatchy's daughter to tend while Biddy stayed behind to see to her own horse.

He crossed the bailey at quickly, but Cullen's thoughts were distracted enough that he had nearly reached the keep before he noted Gillie and Rory talking to Mac at the foot of the steps. He gave a nod of greeting to the old man as he came to a halt, then turned a scowl on the two younger ones. "What are ye two doing here? Yer supposed to be watching me wife."

"Rory and I were beginning to fall asleep in the great hall so Fergus said we could take a turn out here. He said he'd watch her if we wished to stretch our legs for a few minutes. It gets fair boring sitting in there all the time, so we took the opportunity," Gillie explained apologetically.

Cullen scowled at this news but could hardly fault them. Fergus was his first, and he'd left him in charge while he was gone. Part of the man's job was giving the men rest if they appeared to be lagging. A man would hardly be alert when he was falling asleep, and 'twas better an alert man on guard than a weary one, slow to notice trouble and equally slow to react.

Nodding, he turned to continue on to the keep.

"Me laird?"

Cullen paused and glanced back. "Aye?"

The men exchanged a glance, then Rory asked, "Did Biddy's sister no die in autumn?"

"Biddy's sister?" he asked, startled to hear them mention the woman he'd just spent so much time talking about. Gillie and Rory were ten years younger than he. He was surprised they even recalled the woman.

"Aye," Rory said. "I helped Biddy take some flowers out to the cliff last autumn because she said it was the anniversary of her Jenny's death. But Fergus told Evelinde that Biddy was at the cliffs and that today was the anniversary of her death."

"He's mistaken. Yer right, Jenny died in the fall, no summer," Cullen said, and shook his head with exasperation. He was sure he'd mentioned to Fergus that he was taking Biddy with him to Comyns. Apparently, the man had forgotten that.

"I thought so," Rory said with satisfaction, and elbowed Gillie. "I told ye the old man was losing his wits to age."

Cullen grimaced, worried that he'd soon have to find himself a new first if the man's memory was slipping away. Did he not have enough problems at the moment? he thought with irritation, then shrugged the worry away and—eager to see his wife—continued on his way up the stairs.

Mildrede was coming out of the kitchen as Cullen entered the keep, but other than that, the great hall was empty. Frowning, he glanced at the maid. "Where is me wife?"

Mildrede's eyebrows rose—probably at his sharp tone of voice rather than the question itself—and she gestured back the way she'd come. "She left through the kitchen door some moments ago. She is not alone," the woman added quickly. "Fergus is escorting her."

Cullen frowned. "Escorting her where?"

"I am not sure," she admitted uncertainly. "I did not get the chance to speak to her. Fergus was ushering her out the door and into the back courtyard as I entered the kitchen."

When Cullen continued to frown, she added, "I know she was looking for Lady Elizabeth earlier. Perhaps they have gone in search of her."

"Who's looking for me?"

Cullen turned to the doors behind him as Biddy let it swing closed and started across the great hall toward them.

"Evelinde," Mildrede answered.

"Well, here I am. What's she wanting?" Biddy asked, as the keep doors opened again, and Gillie, Rory, and Mac trailed Travis inside.

Mildrede shook her head with bewilderment. "I do not know."

"Fergus told her ye were at the cliff," Cullen muttered. "But I told him ye were coming with me to Comyns."

Cursing, he headed for the door to the kitchens.

"What is wrong?" Mildrede asked, following on his heels, worry evident in her voice as she added, "Is not the cliff where your father and first wife died?"

"Aye," he bit out, fear racing through him now.

"Surely it canna be Fergus behind the accidents and deaths?" Biddy asked, but her tone told him she very much feared it might be.