The Highlander Takes a Bride (Historical Highland Romance)

“Aye, but . . .” Alick paused, frowned, apparently trying to marshall his thoughts, and then pointed out, “She may no’ be right in the head. I mean, Lady MacDonnell is sure her son’s drowning was no’ accidental and that Fenella was behind it.”

Saidh’s eyebrows rose slightly at this comment. As far as she knew the servants were not gossiping about Aunt Tilda’s suspicions regarding Fenella. In fact, from what she’d learned since arriving, most of them were most sympathetic toward Fenella. She’d concluded that while Aunt Tilda had felt comfortable enough to share her suspicions with Edith and then herself, she had spoken to few others about it. But it looked like she’d vented them to Alick as well. Saidh supposed she shouldn’t be surprised. Alick was a good listener.

“And ye ha’e to consider,” Alick continued now. “Our cousin has seen four husbands into the grave in four years now. That jest has to be more than bad luck,” he said, shaking his head. “And if she killed them, who is to say she has no’ killed others and might try to kill our Saidh too?”

“But why kill Saidh?” Conran asked. “She’d no’ gain from her death.”

Alick shrugged. “Mayhap she is jealous o’ Saidh’s happiness, or something. As I said, I do no’ think she’s right in the head, staying up in that room all day and night. There’s something wrong with her.”

“Wife?” Greer said suddenly. “Ye’re biting yer lip. What are ye thinking?”

Saidh gave a start at Greer’s solemn voice, realizing only then that she had indeed been chewing anxiously on her lip. For one moment she thought perhaps she shouldn’t say anything, but someone had tried to kill her twice now, and Alpin had been terribly injured in the last attempt. What if it was Fenella behind it? And what if the next time Greer was hurt, or one of her brothers? What if they even died? She could never suffer that on her conscience, knowing that if she’d just said something . . .

Sighing, she reluctantly admitted, “The morning me brothers arrived, Fenella did mention that ye were verra kind to her, and that mayhap ye’d be as . . . er . . . considerate about the marital bed as Allen. I think she was considering ye fer her fifth husband.”

“What?” he said with dismay, and then scowled and asked, “And did I ha’e any say in this?”

Saidh patted his arm soothingly. “I think she thought because ye were kind to her, ye may be interested in—”

“The only kindness I showed her was no’ pushing her away when she sobbed all o’er me plaid, which she did repeatedly and often,” he said with disgust. “Other than that, we’ve barely e’en spoken. If she thinks that is kindness, and a sign that I might marry her, the lass really is no’ right in her head.”

“Perhaps we should speak to her,” Aulay suggested quietly.

Greer frowned, but nodded grimly. “Aye.”

“I’ll do it,” Saidh announced abruptly and stood up. She’d come here to find out whether Fenella had killed her husbands or not, and then had instead tiptoed about, not wanting to upset the woman. The sad truth was, Saidh was seriously uncomfortable around weepy women. It was not in her nature to go about weeping and wailing over life’s cruelties and she had no idea how to deal with women who did. But it was past time she sorted the matter one way or another. Especially now that Fenella was under widespread suspicion of being behind these new attacks.

“Nay,” Greer said firmly, catching her arm. “Ye’ll go rest. Aulay and I’ll speak to her.”

Aulay raised an eyebrow at being roped into speaking to the woman with Greer, and arched an eyebrow. “Afraid she’ll cry on ye again?”

Greer scowled at the suggestion, but said, “Aye, and that I’ll strike her dead if I deduce she is behind these attacks.”

“Ah,” Aulay said with amusement, getting to his feet as Greer scooped Saidh up into his arms.

“What are ye doing?” she cried with surprise and began to struggle, kicking her legs and pushing at Greer’s chest with her good arm as he started toward the stairs. “Put me down.”

“I am carrying ye up and putting ye to bed. Ye should be resting, ye’re still healing.”

“I can walk,” she protested with a scowl.

“I ken it,” he assured her. “But I like the feel o’ ye in me arms.”

Saidh blinked at this claim, her struggles stopping as he started up the stairs. “Ye do?”

“O’ course I do, ye daft woman. Why do ye think I married ye?”

“So ye could tup me without me brothers killing ye?” she said dryly.

He chuckled at the suggestion and reminded her, “I am the one who told them I’d tupped ye.”

“Aye, ye did,” she said with a small smile. “More fool ye. I ne’er would ha’e told them or demanded marriage from ye. I’d ha’e just enjoyed ye while I could and then gone about me business.”

“I ken that too,” Greer said, not looking pleased. “I realized it the morning yer brothers arrived. Ye’d intended to take yer pleasure and then abandon me.” Peering down his nose at her, he shook his head and said conversationally, “Yer a cruel wench, wife. ’Tis no wonder someone is trying to kill ye.”

“Oy!” she bellowed in surprised offense and began to kick her feet and push at his chest again. This time though, he opened his arms, dropping her. Saidh gasped in surprise as she fell through the air, but before she could do more than that, she landed on something soft. She peered around with surprise to see that while she’d been distracted, they’d reached the bedchamber she’d originally stayed in and that they’d made love in before joining her brothers earlier. He’d dropped her on the bed, and managed to do it in such a way that she’d landed sitting up, saving her wound.

She turned to raise an eyebrow at her husband. “Why am I here?”

“To rest while yer brother and I talk to Fenella,” he answered, and then bent at the waist, pressing his hands on the bed on either side of her hips so that he could claim her lips in a sizzling kiss that had her slipping her arms around his neck and clinging to him. By the time he tore his mouth away to kiss his way across her cheek, she was breathless and terribly excited.