Devil of the Highlands Page 0,95

cruelty and abuses. She may have been desperate enough to get involved with her sister's husband in a bid to save herself, or simply for a last grab at happiness before being forced into the marriage.

Evelinde could almost understand that herself. Her own behavior the day she'd learned she was to marry the Devil of Donnachaidh had been less than exemplary. She had let Cullen kiss and touch her in ways she still found difficult to believe. And she had justified it by using the horrid marriage she'd thought was in her future. Telling herself it was the only pleasure she might experience in her life. She couldn't even honestly say she would have pushed him away sooner had she known he was married, though she'd like to think she would have had she had a sister and he been her brother-in-law. And she wasn't even as young as Jenny had been.

Evelinde yawned again and sighed as she thought that a child like Jenny might be able to justify taking her sister's husband as a lover that way. She might even have hoped the man might somehow find a way to save her from the marriage.

She frowned at the possibilities floating around in her mind. Had Biddy found out her sister and husband were lovers? Was this one indiscretion she hadn't been willing to forgive Darach? And why had Jenny returned after leaving so abruptly? Had she even really killed herself. It was possible she'd felt bad about dallying with her sister's husband and killed herself, but it was possible her death was just another murder covered up.

Biddy could have murdered Jenny and her husband after finding out about them, she supposed, but if so, why kill Cullen's father all those years later, she wondered. Had Cullen's father, Liam, somehow figured out what had happened all those years, confronted her, and brought about his own death? Or perhaps that had simply been an effort to correct the injustice Biddy might have felt she'd caused by killing Darach while her son was too young to take over the position of laird. Her own son had been passed over due to Darach's premature death. She may have hoped the title would be passed on to her son rather than Cullen if she killed Liam.

As for Maggie, either the questions she'd asked had made Biddy nervous enough to make her kill her, or Maggie had actually somehow stumbled onto the truth, bringing about her own death.

Evelinde scowled at her own thoughts. While it all made a sort of sense, she found it hard to see Biddy as a ravening murderer, running about killing off all those people; her own sister, her husband, her brother-in-law, and her nephew's wife. Besides, Evelinde liked Biddy and didn't want to believe the woman was trying to kill her.

She really had to sort the matter out and quickly, Evelinde decided, but just wasn't quite sure how. Talking to Biddy wasn't likely to get her any answers. The woman would either be insulted if she was innocent or just lie and deny everything if she was guilty.

Evelinde supposed she could try sneaking into Biddy's room when she wasn't around and seeing if there was something that would help her find out what had happened. Letters from Biddy to her sister and back, a diary… or maybe a written confession lying around, she thought dryly, and shifted impatiently in the bed. Still, it was worth doing.

"What has ye all upset?" The sleepy question sounded by her ear as Cullen cuddled up behind her, one arm slipping around her body.

"What makes you think I am upset?" Evelinde asked rather than answer, her hand covering his where it rested beneath her breast on top of the linens and furs.

"Because ye were sighing and huffing loud enough to wake me," he answered, and began to nuzzle her ear.

"I was not," Evelinde said a bit breathlessly, her eyes drooping closed as his lips moved over her neck.

"Aye, ye were," Cullen assured her, tugging down the linens and furs that covered her to expose her naked breasts to his seeking hand.

"Oh," Evelinde breathed, as his hand closed over one breast and he began to fondle her, his hips pressing more firmly forward so that she could feel the hardness growing between them.

"What were ye thinking about?" he asked, nibbling at her shoulder now.

Evelinde swallowed, finding it difficult to think while he was touching her so.

"Tell me," he insisted on a whisper, his hand leaving her