Devil of the Highlands (13 page)

He, on the other hand, never insulted or abused her, Cullen thought. In fact, he'd done everything he could to try to make things easier; leaving right after the wedding to get her away from Edda rather than staying to rest a night after the long trip to d'Aumesbery, choosing and packing gowns and such in that small bag for her when she was unable to do it herself, cutting himself to fake the consummation rather than subject her to the humiliation Edda had insisted on, carrying her before him on his mount the whole way so that her injuries were exacerbated as little as possible…

"Are ye rough with her in bed?" Tralin asked suddenly, and when Cullen turned a shocked and furious gaze on him, added quickly, "I am just trying to sort out why she would wish she was back at d'Aumesbery. I ken ye would not insult or abuse her like her stepmother—"

"I called her daft," Cullen admitted, then explained about the bull and her being in the paddock.

"Well, I think that can be forgiven," Tralin said with a frown, then cleared his throat and returned to the bone he'd dug up a moment ago. "I know you would not abuse a woman, but I was just wondering if—I mean, yer no used to dealing with virgins, Cullen, and mayhap you were a little less gentle than you might have been, or she was shocked by what… er… takes place."

"I have been avoiding bedding her to allow her body to heal," he admitted unhappily.

Tralin's eyebrows shot up. "You mean the wedding has not been consummated?"

"Aye, it has," Cullen assured him and frowned. He'd intended to wait until her body had healed completely and she would not wince in pain when he caressed her. Howbeit, the morning after arriving home, he'd spilled ale on himself and headed up to the room to change his tunic and Biddy had stopped him and asked if he'd take her salve up to Evelinde and tell her she'd be along shortly. He'd agreed, fully intending just to give her the salve, but then he'd walked in and found her laid out naked on the bed on her stomach and all his best intentions had gone out the window.

The next thing he knew his hands were slick with salve, and he was applying it himself, and once he'd touched her Cullen had been lost. So much so that he couldn't even say if Biddy had ever come up intending to apply the salve. If she had, neither of them had noticed, and she'd slipped away without disturbing them, and he was grateful for it.

Tralin cleared his throat to get his attention, and asked delicately, "And how did it go?"

"It went… well," Cullen muttered, knowing he lied through his teeth. It had been incredible. He was no virgin, but bedding his wife had been one of the most exciting experiences of his life. Cullen had never before felt a passion like she'd drawn from him, or the desire to please a woman as much as he'd wanted to please Evelinde. His passion was so all-consuming it had been a struggle to remain gentle and a constant battle to avoid touching any of her sore spots. Reining in the passion she'd stirred so had been a sort of torture… a sweet torture. And one he'd wanted to repeat immediately on awaking, too. But, afraid he wouldn't be able to go gently next time, Cullen had forced himself to resist, reminding himself that she needed to heal.

"It went well for
you
," Tralin said. "But what of her? Perhaps—"

"It went well for her, too," Cullen interrupted dryly. "It went
verra
well for both of us. Howbeit, she seems to have mistaken my consideration in not wanting to trouble her again until she is fully healed as an indication that she did not please me."

"Hmm," Tralin murmured.

"And she wants me to explain things to her," Cullen complained. "I told her to watch me actions and no bother so much about the words, but she insists she wants me words
and
actions."

"Demanding wench."

Cullen nodded, only realizing that his friend had been teasing him when Tralin started to laugh.

"Cullen," he said with exasperation. "I ken yer no used to explaining yerself. Yer laird over the people of Donnachaidh and as such need not explain anything to anyone, but she is not just another one of yer people.

She's yer wife, and the two of ye are just getting to ken each other. Ye'll need to explain some things at first."

When Cullen just glowered at him, he added, "Look at it from her perspective. Ye showed up, married her, and dragged her off right away, and
she thought
with naught but the gown she wore. Ye then bedded her once, and no doubt left her to her own devices after that, without a word of praise to let her know that ye were pleased with her, or—knowing you—any sort of direction as to her place at Donnachaidh. She is no doubt feeling lost and uncertain in her new home and position."

"But I have done all I possibly can to ease the way for her," Cullen protested.

"Except tell her ye're pleased with her for bride," he pointed out. "And praise is no doubt what she needs after being insulted by her stepmother all these years."

"But—"

"Look at it as just another one of yer duties," Tralin interrupted. "Ye take yer duties seriously, I ken. So, think of this as one. Yer duty is to ensure yer wife kens she is appreciated and necessary at Donnachaidh."

"A duty," he muttered.

"Aye." Tralin nodded. "I promise ye if ye do, she—and hence, ye—will be much happier."

Cullen considered the suggestion seriously, then nodded and stood.

"Where are ye going?" Tralin asked with surprise.

"Home to attend me duties," he muttered, heading for the door.

"We lost and 'tis all your fault."

Lady did not react to either her vexed mistress's comment or her irritated scowl, The horse merely waited patiently for her to decide which way to go. Evelinde made a face at the animal's lack of concern and glanced around the woods.

It really was the mare's fault they were now deep in the woods in the valley at the base of the hill Donnachaidh sat on. Evelinde had never intended to enter the woods, but Lady had had other ideas. She supposed it was her own fault for giving the mare her head. Though, to be fair, doing so had never been a problem at d'Aumesbery. Donnachaidh was another matter entirely. And not knowing where she was going had not stopped Lady from charging down the hill and into the woods.

Evelinde had tried to stop the mare at the bottom of the hill, but Lady would not be stopped and had run into the woods like a wild thing. By the time she'd managed even to slow the beast, they were well into the forest.

She hadn't thought it a problem at first. Evelinde had assumed that if she just turned the mare back the way they'd come, they'd canter happily out of there. Only they'd been cantering for more than two hours now without finding their way out of the woods. Obviously, they'd got turned around somehow and headed in the wrong direction, but Evelinde didn't know how that had happened.

Shifting on her mare, she again glanced around the woods surrounding them. It was a sunny day outside the forest, but the trees in here grew so close together, the cover overhead might as well have been a stone wall.

Very little sunlight was getting through, and it felt like early evening in the heart of the small forest.

Or perhaps it
was
early evening, Evelinde thought anxiously, wondering if she'd underestimated the time that had passed as she'd tried to find her way back out of the valley. She hoped not, as Evelinde had no desire to spend the night there.

The crunch of leaves and twigs being trampled underfoot reached her ears, and she glanced sharply to the side as Lady shifted nervously, but there was no one there, and the sound wasn't repeated. Still, both she and Lady had heard something so Evelinde waited, slowly scanning the woods, the skin on the back of her neck creeping all the way down her spine.

It was enough to make her decide she didn't wish to sit there any longer trying to think of a way to resolve the problem. It seemed to her that moving—even in the wrong direction—was better than staying in one place.

Turning Lady away from the direction the sound had seemed to come from, Evelinde urged her forward, resisting the urge to look back.

"It was probably just a rabbit or vole," she said, running a soothing hand down the mare's neck. "Certainly not a wolf or anything of that ilk."

Whether Lady was reassured or not Evelinde didn't know, but she wasn't feeling much better herself. Her back was still creeping, and her body had tensed up, waiting for some ferocious animal or other to leap out at them at any moment.

Trying to ignore the anxiety slipping through her, Evelinde slid her gaze over the way ahead, looking both to the left and the right, hoping to spot a break in the trees that would speak to their nearing the edge of the woods.

She just hoped it wouldn't be the wrong side.

That thought made Evelinde rein in again. The ride through the valley the night they'd arrived hadn't seemed to take as long as this ride was. Of course, it could just seem like a long time because she was lost, but…

It would be very upsetting finally to find her way out of the woods only to discover she was on the wrong side of the valley and had to travel back through the woods again to get to the castle side.

If only she could see the castle…

But, of course, she couldn't, the trees were in the way.

Evelinde glanced upward at the foliage overhead. If she were to climb one of the taller trees until the foliage thinned out, she might be able to see the castle. Then she would know which direction she needed to go to get there.

Once the thought had taken hold, nothing could have stopped Evelinde from making the attempt. Patting Lady's neck soothingly, she slid off her mare and dropped to the ground. She then propped her hands on her hips and peered upward as she turned in a slow circle on the spot, trying to judge which tree was the largest and likely to get her high enough to see the castle, yet had branches low enough that she could reach them to start her climb.

After deciding on a tree, Evelinde moved to stand at its base. She paused there, her gaze sliding between the tree and her skirt, then she bent and reached under the front hem to catch the beck hemline of the skirt and draw it forward between her legs and up as she'd done to wade in the river. Recalling the problems it had caused when the skirt had slipped free of her belt the last time, Evelinde put extra care into making sure it was well affixed, then approached the tree she'd chosen.

She'd thought the branches of this tree were low enough to make it easy, but Evelinde had never climbed a tree before and hadn't a clue how hard it would be. Honestly, she'd seen children at d'Aumesbery shinny up with what appeared to be little effort, but it wasn't as easy as they made it look.

The lowest branch on the tree she'd chosen was low enough that she could hook her arms over it, which she did at once. Evelinde then tried to lift her leg to the branch, but her leg apparently didn't go that high.

Grimacing, she moved farther along the branch until she was closer to the tree, then planted one foot on the trunk of the tree and sort of walked up it while hanging from her arms. Evelinde was quite proud of herself when she managed to get her legs hooked around the branch, too, but then hung there, uncertain how to get herself from hanging under it to perched on top.

After she dangled there for several moments, trying to work it out, Evelinde's muscles began to protest, and she let her legs drop and released the tree to stand on the forest floor again. She simply stood there, hands propped on her hips, glaring at the tree until Lady walked up next to her and nudged her in the shoulder.

Evelinde immediately turned her scowl to the mare, knowing the creature probably wanted water after her run.

She'd always taken Lady to the river by d'Aumesbery after her wild runs there. Unfortunately, while on first arriving at Donnachaidh they had crossed a river on the way through the valley, Evelinde had no idea where it was.

"I would take you for a drink if I could—" she began, then paused as an idea occurred to her. Smiling as the idea blossomed in her mind, Evelinde moved to the mare's side and climbed back into the saddle.

"I promise do you help me get up this tree, I shall soon have you drinking water," Evelinde told the mare as she urged her closer to the tree she'd decided to climb, then added, "Hopefully in the stables of Donnachaidh."

Once Evelinde had got the mare as close as she could to the branch, she released her reins and patted her neck soothingly as she whispered, "Pray, do not move."

Straightening in the saddle, Evelinde grabbed the branch next to her and used it to steady herself as she climbed carefully to stand on the mare's back.

Much to her relief, the mare stood perfectly still, and Evelinde was able to get herself to a standing position and simply step onto the branch of the tree. Unfortunately, her slippers were not made for such endeavors and had she not been holding on with both hands to the branch above, she surely would have slipped off.

"Thanks," Evelinde muttered to the mare when she finally felt stable enough to look around and saw that the horse had backed up several steps to get out of the way should she fall. "Nice to know I have your support in this endeavor to rescue us both."

Lady's response was to bend her head to the ground and begin nosing at twigs on the dirt.

Shaking her head, Evelinde leaned against the trunk and held on with one hand while she lifted first one foot, then the other to remove her slippers, dropping each to the ground.

She felt much more confident after that and turned her attention to the serious business of climbing. It was something of a learning experience. Truly, Evelinde had never realized how difficult a task it would be. The branches grew out in all directions, some too close together, some too far apart to make it anything resembling easy. Still, determination pushed her on despite being scratched repeatedly, and scraping an elbow here, and a knee there, along the way.

Evelinde paused when she thought she must be halfway up the tree. She then glanced first up, then down, disappointed to realize that she wasn't anywhere near halfway. It was then she decided that her brilliant idea had not been so brilliant after all.

Sighing, she examined the branches above, trying to decide which would be the best to reach for, and had just settled on one when the snap of a twig made her pause and glance around. Had she been climbing at the time, Evelinde probably would not have heard the small sound. However, she did hear it, and so did Lady she noted, as the mare did the same nervous sideways dance she had earlier and looked in the direction the sound had seemed to come from.

The earlier creeping sensation returning, Evelinde surveyed the trees surrounding them; but no matter how hard she squinted into the dim woods, she couldn't see what had made the sound. After a moment, she reluctantly gave up and glanced back up the tree. If she could just get high enough to see which direction they had to go, they would soon be out of these woods.

Grinding her teeth together with determination, Evelinde started upward again and had climbed up to the next branch when something breezed past her and a soft thunk sounded to her left. Startled, Evelinde removed her left hand from the branch she held and started to turn to see what she'd heard, but the branch she stood on chose that moment to snap under her feet.

Crying out, Evelinde grabbed wildly with her free hand, her fingers catching at a very slim branch and holding on for dear life as she scrabbled to find purchase with her feet. Relief poured through her when she did, and she released a slow breath, and then hugged the tree, her cheek pressed against the rough surface as she waited for her heart to stop its mad thumping. Once it had, Evelinde glanced down toward Lady to see that the mare had moved back several more feet to get out of the way of the branch that had fallen and was now eyeing her with accusation.

"Do not look at me like that, this is all your fault," Evelinde muttered, then sighed and leaned her cheek against the tree again.

She would never enter these woods alone again, Evelinde silently vowed, then raised her head to glance up to the branch she'd grabbed hold of. Her heart, which had just slowed, now seemed to stop altogether as she realized she wasn't holding on to a branch at all, but the shaft of an arrow.

Evelinde was so startled at this realization that she unthinkingly released it at once, leaving her only holding on to the original branch with one hand. Panic reared up in her, and she swiftly grabbed for another branch, relief roaring through her until she heard, "Wife?"

After briefly closing her eyes, Evelinde dropped her head forward to peer down. Sure enough, her husband had found her. The man was even now scrambling off his mount, which he'd stopped beside Lady.

Brilliant, she thought unhappily. Why did he always find her at her worst?

"What are ye doing, ye daft woman?" Cullen roared as he moved to stand beneath her under the tree.

Where have I heard that before
? Evelinde wondered, then cleared her throat, and said, "Oh, nothing, my lord. Just enjoying an afternoon out."

"Yer hanging in a tree, wife," he growled. "By yer hands."

"I am letting my legs rest," she responded promptly, then moved her legs about until she brushed against a branch. Setting first one foot on it, then the other, she released a little sigh of relief.

"Get down here!"

He sounded furious, she noted, looking about to see which branch would be safest to step down to next.

"Just let go. I shall catch ye," he ordered.

"Nay. I climbed up and can climb right back down," Evelinde assured him, and proceeded to do just that.

Not too quickly, mind. She wasn't eager to face his wrath again and was hoping he would calm down did she give him time.

Evelinde had reached the last branch and dropped to sit on it, intending to push off and drop to the forest floor when she found herself caught in strong hands and eased to the ground instead.

"Thank you," she mumbled, as he set her on her feet.

"Yer welcome," Cullen growled, then snapped, "Now. What the devil did ye think ye were doing?"

Evelinde opened her mouth, closed it, cleared her throat, and said, "Climbing the tree."

"I could see that," he said impatiently. "Why?"

"Because I was lost," she admitted with disgust, and bent to collect her slippers before pushing past him to walk to Lady. "I thought I would climb a tree and see which direction the castle was in rather than wander these woods for the rest of my days like some stupid English ghost trapped in your bloody highlands."

A small silence followed her explanation, then Cullen cleared his throat, and said, "That was clever."

Evelinde stopped next to Lady and turned uncertainly, taking a step backward when she found that he'd followed. Peering up at him suspiciously, she asked, "It was?"