Devil of the Highlands Page 0,105

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 She'd withdrawn from those she loved, banished herself to the kitchens, and refused any and all of the little luxuries that had been her right all those years.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