Devil of the Highlands Page 0,85

only thing Evelinde could think was that the girl had hoped her lover, whoever he was, would marry her and save her from the Campbell. It would have taken a powerful lord to be able to do that and withstand the retribution that would have followed from the Campbells. But the only powerful lord at Donnachaidh was Darach, and he was already married, in no position to marry and save her. As far as Evelinde knew there hadn't been any other powerful lord visiting at the time… Though, she thought suddenly, there had been the son of a powerful lord who had come to the keep back then and still did. Tralin.

Evelinde slowed in her work on the chandelier as she considered that. Cullen had said Tralin had thought Jenny the prettiest lass he'd ever seen. What if she had liked him in return? Jenny had obviously been meeting her lover at the cliff for privacy. Could it have been Tralin? Could she have hoped he would marry and save her from the Campbell?

Evelinde blinked and straightened as she realized there had been another powerful man… Cullen's father, Liam.

Nay, she realized in the next moment and bent back to her work right away. Liam had not been powerful in his own right until after his brother's death, when he'd taken on the title and position of laird… and that left her considering Tralin again.

Jenny's leaving in tears could only mean that whoever her lover was, they'd had argued. Evelinde wondered briefly who he might have been, but there was something else troubling her. Tavis said Jenny had left without a word to her sister. If so, then who had arranged the three-man escort for her? Darach?

Evelinde chipped away another large piece of wax, wrinkling her nose as the acrid scent of smoke wafted to her. It was as if the scent was embedded in the wood itself, she thought with disgust, then frowned as she realized that the smell was not of burning tallow, but—

She glanced around sharply, eyes widening in dismay as she saw that the torch Mildrede had set in the holder by the door had somehow fallen on the rushes piled in front of the door, and they were aflame.

Evelinde snatched up one of the damp rags she'd been using to scrub off the window ledges and moved toward the fire with some vague intention of beating it out, but dry and ancient as the rushes were, it was spreading quickly, the flames shooting up and out with a hunger that was alarming. She would not be able to beat them down, and she could not go for help, the fire blocked the door. Evelinde was trapped.

Cullen's expression was grim as he rode into the bailey. The incident with the arrow in the tree had bothered him since he'd begun to suspect some of his wife's accidents might not have been accidents at all. Finally, today he'd ridden out to the woods to find the tree his wife had been climbing and climb it himself to get a look at the arrow. One look had been enough to tell him that the arrow had not been long in the tree. It hadn't rained since the incident, and the fletching was pristine. Also, the wound in the bark around the arrow was new, not old and healed. Someone was trying to kill his wife.

Cullen had tried to pull the arrow from the tree, but it had sunk in deep enough he'd had to give up. He'd then examined the shaft and fletching to see if there was anything unusual about it that might lead him to the person who had loosed it, but the fletching was of common goose feathers. Most used goose, and some, very rarely, used swan feathers when making arrows. Some used a combination to make them more distinctive, but this was very common fletching and could have belonged to any number of Donnachaidh people.

Disappointed that the arrow wouldn't tell him anything about the person who had shot it, Cullen had climbed back down the tree and headed straight back to the castle. He'd suspected someone was trying to kill his wife since Hamish had spoken up at the bull's paddock, but having it confirmed like this made him anxious for Evelinde. Seeing her and assuring himself that she was well was the only thing he could think of to help put him at ease.

Cullen was debating whether he shouldn't put four men on her