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incapable of holding the cloth. The material simply slipped through her fingers like sand. "What—?"

" 'Tis all right," the maid said reassuringly as she headed back toward her, though the worry in her voice detracted somewhat from the words. " 'Twill not kill you. Twill just—" Mildrede broke off and rushed forward to catch her as Evelinde began to slide out of the seat.

Chapter Four

"Did ye na tell that maid to hurry? What is taking so long?"

Cullen managed not to grimace at Tavis's complaint. His cousin had never been a patient man, but at that moment he was in full agreement with him. He'd sent the maid up to fetch his bride more than an hour past and Evelinde still had not appeared.

"Ye doona think she doesna wish to marry ye and fled, do ye?" Tavis said fretfully. "Yer reputation as the Devil of Donnachaidh may have scared her off. Maybe we should check the stables and be sure her mare is still here."

Cullen frowned at the suggestion. From what Evelinde had said in the clearing, he already knew his reputation as the Devil of Donnachaidh had preceded him. Still, he didn't think she was afraid of him. In fact, after their tryst in the clearing, he would expect she'd be less afraid of him and even looking forward to the marriage bed. He certainly was.

"Nay," he said finally. "There's no reason for her to run."

"Women don't need a reason," Fergus said dryly from his other side. " 'Sides, I wouldna be so sure. She could be mad. She certainly didna seem all that right in the head, riding about the meadow waving a flag as she was."

" 'Twas her gown," Cullen snapped.

"What the devil was she doing waving it around as she was?" Fergus muttered.

"It looked wet to me," Tavis said, when Cullen didn't trouble himself to explain. "She was probably trying to dry it."

A round of relieved murmurs sounded from the other men. Cullen knew they'd feared their new lady would be mad since discovering she was the lass from the meadow.

"How did she get herself all bruised?" Gillie asked suddenly.

"No doubt she took a spill from her mount," Fergus surmised when Cullen remained silent. "That's what happens when ye act foolish and doona ride proper. Hopefully, the lass has learned her lesson."

Cullen didn't comment. His gaze had moved to the top of the stairs in hopes of seeing his betrothed appear, but the stair head was still empty.

"I am glad we are na staying here tonight," Gillie commented, drawing his attention again. "Her stepmother is a horrible woman."

"Aye," Tavis muttered, and Cullen noted his gaze shifting along the table to where Edda d'Aumesbery was talking with Father Saunders. His cousin shook his head with incomprehension, and added, "I doona understand the woman at all. From what she said while we awaited yer return, she obviously believes all those tales about the Devil of Donnachaidh."

"Aye," Gillie muttered. "And yet she doesna seem the least afeared of ye."

"Nay, she's too pleased at the prospect of her stepdaughter marrying our laird and being miserable," Fergus commented with disgust. "She sees our laird as an ally because of it and hasna the sense to be afraid."

Tavis blew out a silent whistle at the suggestion, then nudged Cullen. "If that's the case, I suspect the woman has made the lass's life miserable as can be until now."

"Aye," Cullen grunted, his gaze shifting to the Englishwoman. She was a vile creature. It hadn't taken him more than a glimpse of Edda's obvious pleasure at Evelinde's state when they returned to the keep to realize getting the lass away from here as quickly as possible was the best thing he could do for her. His opinion hadn't changed in the time he'd waited below. Edda had spent the interval spewing out insult after insult about her absent stepdaughter and telling him what a trial the girl had been to her.

The woman kept insisting Cullen would have to beat her into shape. She seemed to think he should take a stick to Evelinde morning, noon, and night to ensure good behavior… but the more she talked, the more he felt like taking a stick to Edda. Cullen didn't think the woman had dared to raise a hand to Evelinde herself, but he had no doubt that Tavis was right, and the bitch had made Evelinde's life here as miserable as she could since Lord d'Aumesbery's death. It had been a relief when Father Saunders