Devil of the Highlands (7 page)

Evelinde was silent for a moment, then admitted, "I have heard the rumors."

"Aye. All of Scotland and most of England have," Biddy said dryly, and shook her head once more as she crossed the room to the tub. " 'Tis all nonsense. Cullen was not even here when his father, the old laird, died.

He'd ridden out to visit our neighbors the Comyns when it happened. He rode out that morning, his father died that afternoon at the foot of the cliffs, and someone started the rumor the lad was seen there. By the time he arrived home, the rumor was firmly entrenched, and it mattered little that he could produce witnesses that he was not here. The rumor was started, and nothing could stop it. Tip yer head back, lass, and I'll wet yer hair to wash it."

Evelinde tipped her head back and closed her eyes, but asked, "So his father's death was an accident?"

Biddy snorted as she poured water over her head. "Of course it was, though ye couldna convince half the people here of it. I think even Cullen thinks it was not."

Evelinde fell silent, considering the matter as Biddy began to work a lovely scented soap into her hair, then asked, "Who was this witness that claimed Cullen was there?"

"I told ye, Cullen wasna there," Biddy said with a scowl.

"Aye, obviously this witness was mistaken, but who was it?"

Biddy paused and frowned briefly before picking up a pail of water and raising it to rinse her hair as she admitted, "In truth, I doona ken. It was just told to me that 'someone' saw him there."

Evelinde kept her eyes closed as a second pail of water was poured over her head, then asked, "And the uncle? "

Biddy shook her head. "An accident. He was out hunting with the men and took an arrow in the chest."

"That does not sound like an accident," Evelinde said dryly. "

'Tis no the first time it's happened and willna be the last," she assured her.

Evelinde nodded, then asked quietly, "And his wife?"

Biddy was silent for a long time before sighing, and saying, "I fear she may not have been an accident… and I also fear she may have brought her death down on herself."

Evelinde's eyes blinked open with surprise at the words. "How?"

Biddy was silent for another few moments as she continued to rinse her hair, then said, "It troubled Maggie that Cullen's name was tainted by his father's death. She loved him."

Evelinde felt herself tense and wanted to ask if he'd loved her back, but instead simply queried, "Did he talk more to her? He seems to keep his thoughts to himself with me, and I worry he does not—"

"Cullen isn't much for talking," Biddy interrupted reassuringly. "He tends to keep his own counsel. He used to be more talkative when his father was alive, and when he and Tralin were boys, you couldn't shut either of them up, but since the trouble…" She shrugged.

Evelinde sighed at this news and found herself wishing she could resolve the mystery around all these past deaths. Perhaps then Cullen would open up and talk a bit more.

"Maggie found his silence a bit hard going as well and feared he didn't care for her," Biddy said sympathetically.

"Did he?" Evelinde asked, unable to stop herself this time. "Did Cullen love Maggie?"

"I think he grew to have affection for her," Biddy said carefully, then sighed. "There are different kinds of love, lass. For the most part, our Cullen treated Maggie with the easy affection of an older brother. In truth, I think she set out to find his father's killer in the hopes of gaining his love. And I fear that may be what got her killed."

"I am not sure I understand," Evelinde said slowly.

"The silly lass got herself broken on the cliffs. No one kens how. She may have just fallen, or…" She paused and then admitted, "I've often wondered if she did not come close to solving the matter, if she did not fall so much as was pushed. Ye ken?"

Evelinde nodded, then just as quickly shook her head, confusion rearing up in her. "But if Cullen's father and uncle were not murdered, why would anyone kill Maggie for looking into their deaths?"

Biddy appeared startled by that logic. "Aye. That's true enough."

Evelinde took in her troubled expression and decided Biddy obviously wasn't as certain they weren't murdered as she'd like others to believe. Closing her eyes as the woman began to pour another bucket of water over her head, Evelinde asked, "How did the rumor start that Cullen killed her?"

Biddy released a sound of disgust. "How does any rumor start? Someone spoke it and, nonsense though it was, it spread like wildfire. They say he killed her because she had produced no bairn. Howbeit, the lass was with child when she pitched off those cliffs."

"She was?" Evelinde gasped, and peered at her with horror. "Are you sure?"

"Aye. She'd missed her woman's time three moons in a row, though she wasna showing yet."

"Did Cullen know?"

"It would be hard for him to miss, with them sleeping in the same bed," she said dryly.

"Aye," Evelinde murmured, a blush rising to her cheeks. She hadn't considered what it would mean to be married. She would now be sharing a room and a bed with the man. He would know everything about her; every flaw on her body, and even when her woman's time was. She bit her lip at the realization, then shook the matter away with a sigh. There was little to be done about it. It was the natural way. It was just embarrassing to realize Cullen would soon know her even better than her own lady's maid.

"There, lass. Yer hair is all done. Now I shall go take yer gown and chemise below to be cleaned and fetch that salve for ye. It'll take me a minute to mix it up, so ye go on and soak a bit if ye like, then dry off, but doona dress. Lay yersel' on the bed on the linen, and I'll be back to spread it on ye."

"Thank you, Biddy," she murmured, as the woman bustled from the room. Evelinde remained in the tub a few more minutes while she contemplated all she'd learned, but her thoughts died abruptly as she realized she had no fresh clothes to don.

A displeased mutter slipping from her lips, Evelinde carefully got out of the tub and began to dry herself.

She then wrapped the linen around her body and plopped onto the side of the bed to consider her situation.

Much to her dismay, all she had in the world was the wrinkled and filthy dress she'd worn on the journey. It amazed her that a man who had shown such care and consideration in other ways could be so dense about things such as this. Shaking her head, she dropped back on the bed and closed her eyes, but then winced as her hip began to ache.

Standing, Evelinde removed the linen and laid it out on the bed to protect it from any salve dripping on it, then lay down again, this time on her stomach. She then crossed her hands as a pillow and laid her cheek on them, her eyes closing as she tried to sort out how she was to deal with the issue of having only one gown.

Perhaps Biddy would have an idea, she thought hopefully. She would have to ask her when she returned with the salve.

So far, the woman really seemed very sweet, and she was glad to have her there, but it didn't stop her missing Mildrede. Sighing, she closed her eyes and soon found herself drifting off to sleep as she waited.

Evelinde woke to the feel of a warm salve being spread over her back. She smiled sleepily as strong hands massaged the salve into the bruise over her ribs on her side and back. The touch was as soothing as the salve, the way the abused flesh was kneaded, easing away the last of the knots in her muscles.

"That's lovely, Biddy, thank you."

The grunt that came in answer made her eyes pop open and her head swivel in alarm.

"Cullen!" she gasped.

"Wife," he said calmly.

"I thought you were Biddy." It was the only thing she could think to say as her mind screamed that the man was kneeling on the side of the bed, her naked back and bottom displayed before him.

Cullen didn't bother to say she'd been wrong, but simply pushed her back to lie flat with one hand on her shoulder blade and continued his ministrations.

Biting her lip, Evelinde lay stiff beneath his efforts, even squeezing the cheeks of her bottom tight together.

Cullen worked in silence for another moment, then growled, "Relax."

Evelinde tried. However, it was simply impossible while his hands were moving over her skin and his eyes were drinking in her naked state.

Cullen continued to work on her side for another moment while she struggled to relax, failing miserably. He then stopped, caught her by the waist, and flipped her onto her back.

Evelinde gasped in alarm, her eyes going wide, and then his mouth covered hers. She stilled at once, not rejecting him, but not exactly welcoming either. She was too stunned by the speed of everything, but then his tongue slid into her mouth, and she relaxed beneath him with a little sigh, her arms creeping up around his neck as his mouth and tongue worked their magic.

He really was a very good kisser, Evelinde thought dreamily, then blinked her eyes open in disappointment as he suddenly broke the kiss. In the next moment, he'd flipped her onto her stomach again as if she was a child and began to work the salve into her back once more. It was only then she realized he'd only kissed her to make her relax.

It had worked, too, Evelinde realized. She'd become loose and limp in his arms after just one kiss. Mind you, now that he wasn't kissing her anymore and her mind was functioning again, she was remembering she was lying naked before him, her bare behind in his face. It was having a rather deleterious effect on her relaxed state, slowly bringing the tension back to her body as she wondered if her bottom was as pink as she was sure her face was at that moment.

Cullen removed his hands, and she glanced around to see him scoop up a handful of some goop from a bowl on the table beside the bed. He worked the salve between his hands for a moment, warming it, then turned back to smooth it over her back.

Much to her surprise, he wasn't just using it on her bruise, Instead he was spreading it over her whole back, running it up her spine and kneading it into her shoulders, before sliding down her back again. She was just beginning to relax under the gentle kneading when his hands reached her backside.

Evelinde winced when his hands slid to the sides of her hips, smoothing the salve into the tender areas there.

She even began to squirm a little, instinctively trying to withdraw from the touch. Cullen didn't comment, merely worked the salve into the skin gently until she began to relax as the pain eased and faded. He then shifted his attention to her lower back and finally her buttocks.

Evelinde had to bite her lip and squeeze her thighs tight together to keep from reacting to the touch. She was most relieved when his hands continued down to her legs, smoothing the salve across the backs of her thighs and down to the backs of her knees. However, when his fingers began to trail up again, moving along the inside of her thighs, every muscle in her body jerked tight.

"Roll over."

Evelinde glanced over to see him concentrating on scooping out more salve from the bowl. She briefly considered refusing the order, but he was her husband, and he'd certainly already seen everything, she told herself. He'd had to help dress her on their wedding day.

Cow indeed
, she thought with disgruntlement as she recalled the comment, then heaved out a breath and reluctantly turned over. Still, Evelinde couldn't prevent her hands from instinctively moving to cover herself.

When Cullen turned back with the salve, he didn't comment on her modest efforts but simply began by rubbing the salve into her throat and shoulders. Evelinde watched his face as he worked, but as usual it was expressionless. His eyes, however, were not, and she found herself fascinated by the slow burn building in them as he met her gaze.

She didn't resist when he took the arm she'd laid across her breasts and began to massage the salve into it.

Cullen started at her fingers, then moved on to her hand, wrist, and elbow, feeding her arm through his hands so it was between them. He'd reached her upper arms when Evelinde realized her salve-slick hand had brushed against the bit of plaid that crossed his chest over his tunic as he worked.

"There is some on your plaid," she said apologetically.

Cullen glanced down and frowned. He released her to try to brush at the spot, only to make it larger.

Scowling, he reached for the broach that pinned the plaid in place, then paused to stare at his salve-covered hands. Raising his head, he said, "You do it."

Evelinde hesitated, then reached out with her still-clean hand and quickly unclasped the pin. The plaid fell away at once to pool around his waist, but she knew it was just lying there loose and could slip away at any moment.

"The shirt, too."

Evelinde glanced uncertainly at his face. His expression was closed, waiting. Biting her lip, she sat up on the bed, wiping her greased hand on the linen as she did. She then reached for the hem of the loose shirt and lifted it up his chest, her eyes widening as inch after inch of flesh was revealed.

Unlike her, his chest looked perfect without a bruise to be seen, but then he'd landed on his back, she thought, as he as he lifted his arms and leaned forward for her to remove the shirt. Evelinde did and then sat back to look at the suddenly half-naked man before her.

Lord in his heaven above! He was beautiful. Muscles rippled through his shoulders and chest as he was freed from the shirt and lowered his arms. She had the most curious urge to run her hands over his chest, and briefly considered scooping up some salve as an excuse to do so.

"Lie down."

Evelinde dropped back on the bed as ordered, but couldn't seem to make her eyes stop their exploration of the wall of male chest before her. The man had to be twice as wide as she.

Cullen distracted her from his chest by bending to his work again. His hands were still slick with the salve as he turned his attention to massaging her side where the biggest bruise was. Evelinde winced at the first touch, but the salve soon eased the tenderness there. She hardly noticed when his hands began to move in wider circles over the spot… until his fingers brushed lightly over the side of one breast.

Evelinde caught her lip in her teeth, her eyes fastened on his face as he worked. Truly, at first she thought it was merely an accident. There was nothing about his expression to suggest otherwise, but then his fingers brushed lightly over the side of her breast again, a little higher this time.

On the third pass, Cullen's eyes suddenly shifted to her face, and he caught her gaze and held it as his fingers glided up again, this time, sliding so high they came perilously close to brushing her nipple. Evelinde's breath caught in her throat, then he removed his hands and turned to scoop up more salve and, again, he warmed the substance between his hands. Evelinde watched the process with interest, her gaze sliding between his hands and his face. She was watching his face when he apparently decided the salve was warm enough and suddenly brushed her arm out of the way and covered both her breasts with his hands.

Evelinde gasped, her body jerking as he began to knead the flesh there. Her eyes closed as his fingers worked magic, drawing responses that left her breathless and even panting. It was exciting and frightening, all at the same time. He'd touched her before, but then she hadn't felt quite so vulnerable and… well… naked. It did not help that he was watching her the whole time, his eyes hooded and hungry.