But she also had never been short of intelligence, Evelinde reminded herself encouragingly. With a little thought, surely she would come up with something.
In the meantime, she decided, if Cullen would not tell her what he wished her to do, she would decide for herself what her duties were… and the first task she set herself was to address the issue of getting men into the kitchens. Her husband might not be willing to set a couple men permanently to the task, but there were other ways to get them there, she thought.
Evelinde had noticed that the men tended to find excuses to go to the kitchens on the days that Biddy baked her pasties. Perhaps they could make them more often as a lure to get the men into the kitchens, and in exchange for a pasty, she and Biddy might get them to do a bit of the heavy lifting or some such thing. It could not hurt to try. As for the torches in the hall, if he would not order some set there, then she would bloody well do it herself. He might fuss about it at first, but would surely see the benefit when he could see his way clearly to their door without risking a stumble or fall. At least she hoped he would, Evelinde thought as she finished washing and quickly dressed.
While she was seeing to these things, she would consider how best to show him she was intelligent. Perhaps by solving the mystery of the accidents/murders of his family members, Evelinde thought grimly, aware that she might be discovering the source of her own latest "accidents" that way. This last "accident" in the paddock and Cullen's questions regarding the arrow in the woods made her think someone might be trying to make her husband a widower again, and she wasn't ready to rest in peace.
Aye, Evelinde thought as she headed for the door, solving the matter would surely prove to her husband that she wasn't the weak, defenseless creature he thought her.
Her determination to light up the hall gained some strength as Evelinde stepped out of their room, pulled the door shut, and found herself enclosed in darkness.
" 'Tis not strong or brave to walk around in darkness," she muttered irritably as she stepped carefully away from the door. " 'Tis just stupid. "
Shaking her head, Evelinde moved toward the stairs but then paused as a rustling from somewhere behind made her glance around. Her first thought was that it was one of the maids coming from a task in one of the rooms, but the moment she stopped the sound did, too.
"Who's there?" she said, staring into the darkness.
Silence was her answer.
Evelinde peered into the gloom, straining to see. It was possible it was just a mouse who'd taken up residence in the hall or one of the empty rooms. There were five of them on this level. She'd toured them all during the miserable days before Mildrede and Mac had arrived. The three rooms along the hall opposite their bedchamber were smaller bedchambers, one of which was Biddy's. The room next to their own, however, was a large solar. It was empty at the moment, but Evelinde hoped to change that at some. point in the future. It was one of the other things she'd thought to speak to her husband about. Now she decided she'd simply take care of the matter herself. It would be one of the duties she set herself.
No further sound had reached her ears. It seemed it really had been a mouse or something, still her "accidents" had made her wary, and Evelinde was on the alert and moved much more slowly than usual as she approached the stairs. In the end, that probably saved her life when she stumbled over something on the floor. She was only a step from the stairs and had she been moving at her usual bustle, probably would have pitched headfirst down the steps. Although she still fell forward toward the stairs, her slower speed allowed her to cry out and reach for the railing as she did so.
A concerned shout from the great hall below answered her call, but Evelinde hardly noticed, she was grabbing wildly for the railing. Her hand slapped down on the wooden rail, and she clutched desperately at it. While it didn't completely stop her fall, it slowed her further. Evelinde's upper body swung toward the railing, her shoulder slamming into the sturdy wood as the rest of her body kept going. Her legs slid past her to the side, their weight dragging her down several steps so that a squeal sounded as her palm slid along the wood before she was able to tighten her hold again and bring herself to a complete halt.
"Wife!"
Cullen was there almost the moment Evelinde came to a halt, and she suspected that his was the concerned shout she'd heard, but she was stunned and breathless from the scare and merely peered at him with wide eyes.
"Are ye hurt?" Cullen asked the question as he scooped her up in his arms and hurried down the stairs to the trestle table. The way she was jostled around in his arms as he went kept her from answering, however, and Evelinde merely held on and waited. Unfortunately, he took her silence as a yes. So did Mildrede, who rushed over as he set Evelinde on the table, the maid's face a picture of combined worry and fury.
"I'm fine," Evelinde gasped a little breathlessly, as Cullen straightened from setting her down, but no one heard her over Mildrede's furious voice.
" 'Tis that damned dark hall. 'Tis a menace! Why are there no torches up there?" Mildrede snapped as she hovered beside him.
Evelinde waited for the
hated line, "Because 'tis how it's always been," to sound, but Cullen didn't speak to the question. He was busily running his hands over her body on top of her gown.
"I am fine," Evelinde repeated trying to sit up, only to find herself pushed flat again.
"Stay put till we're sure nothing's broken," Mildrede insisted, holding her shoulder down flat on the table. She then glanced to Cullen, and asked worriedly. "Is anything broken?"
"I doona think so," Cullen muttered as he finished his examination and straightened, his eyes searching out her face. "Are ye all right?"
"Aye—" she began, but Mildrede cut her off.
"Of course she is not all right!" the maid snapped. "She just took a tumble down those accursed stairs. "
The maid urged Cullen out of the way to examine Evelinde for herself. While he'd concentrated on her limbs, looking for breaks, Mildrede moved her hands over her stomach and urged her to sit up so she could run them over her back as well.
"I am fine, Mildrede," she muttered, trying to wave her away.
The maid merely tightened her lips, and said, "You are not fine. You will be black-and-blue… again," Mildrede added heavily, glowering at Cullen, obviously blaming him for this latest accident.
"What's happened now?"
Evelinde glanced around at that exasperated question to see Fergus approaching the table. Tavis was not far behind.
"She fell down the stairs," Cullen answered in a growl that drew Evelinde's eyes to his face. He was scowling at her as if this were all her fault, she noted with irritation.
"Has she always been this clumsy?"
Evelinde's head shot back around at that question from Tavis, and she glared at the man despite the teasing voice he'd used. He merely grinned back, eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Nay!" Mildrede snapped, apparently no more amused than Evelinde was, "In fact, she rarely had accidents at all ere the day your lord arrived at d'Aumesbery. But, then, 'tis not the first accident that has happened around him. "
Evelinde's eyes widened, but then she realized Biddy must have told Mildrede the tale of how Cullen's father, uncle, and first wife had died. Ere coming to the castle, all either of them had known was that he was supposed to have killed them, not that their deaths were the results of suspicious accidents. Her gaze slid to Cullen to see how he was taking the words, only to find his face expressionless as usual.
"Are ye suggesting our laird had something to do with this?" Fergus demanded, elbowing Tavis out of the way so that he could glare at the maid.
"Mildrede," Evelinde said in a warning tone as the woman opened her mouth to answer.
The servant hesitated, but held her tongue. Evelinde was just relaxing when Cullen suddenly scooped her off the table and moved toward the stairs.
"What are you doing?" she asked with a frown.
"I am taking you to our room to rest. "
"I do not need to rest, Cullen. I am fine really. I do not think I even got hurt this time, I was able to save myself," she assured him quickly, ignoring the slight ache of her arm from that saving. It was little enough compared to what she could have suffered.
"I shall fetch some mead and mix a tonic," Mildrede announced, hurrying for the kitchen.
"Husband," Evelinde said impatiently. "I am fine. Really. "
"You are not fine. You nearly broke your neck and will rest to allow your body to recover. "
Evelinde opened her mouth to respond, but they'd reached the top of the stairs and instead she cautioned, "Be careful. I tripped over something on the floor just before I reached the stairs. "
When Cullen paused to glance at her, she nodded.
" 'Tis what made me fall. "
He met her gaze silently and for a moment Evelinde thought he didn't believe her, but then he turned to shout over his shoulder. "Bring me a torch. "
Tavis appeared behind them shortly after that carrying a lit torch in hand. At a gesture from Cullen, he moved around them and stepped onto the landing.
"Wait," Cullen said, when Tavis started to lead the way to the bedchamber. "Move the torch over the landing before the stairs. "
Evelinde saw an eyebrow rise on the man's forehead, but he lowered the torch, lighting up the floor before them. Evelinde frowned on seeing that there was nothing there to see. The way was clear.
"But I tripped over something," she muttered, and twisted in Cullen's arms, trying to look at the top few stairs. It was possible she'd sent whatever she'd tripped on skittering down the stairs ahead of her as she stumbled over it.
"Settle yerself," Cullen ordered, and nodded to Tavis to continue forward.
"But I really did trip over something," she insisted.
"Probably yer own feet," Tavis teased as he led the way up the hall.
Evelinde's alarmed gaze slid between the fair-haired man and her husband. Cullen's face was its usual unreadable self, even his eyes were giving nothing away, and she feared he agreed with Tavis's teasing and thought she'd just tripped over her own feet. But she really had tripped over something and couldn't for the life of her sort out where that something had disappeared to.
It must have rolled down the steps, Evelinde thought with frustration.
"Thank ye," Cullen rumbled, and Evelinde glanced around to find that they'd reached their bedchamber. Tavis had opened the door and now stood aside for Cullen to enter.
Her husband's cousin began to close the door behind them once they'd passed him, but before he could, Cullen ordered, "I want torches in the hall from now on. "
Tavis paused, eyebrows rising slightly "We've never had torches in the hall here before. "
"We will now," Cullen said firmly. "And I want them lit each morning and kept lit until we are abed. Tell Fergus, and make sure he arranges it. "
The man's eyes slid to Evelinde, a curious expression on his face, but he nodded, then pulled the door closed.
"Thank you," Evelinde said quietly as he set her on the bed. It seemed her near fall had done what her own requests had not. There would be light in the hall.
Cullen's answer was a grunt as he turned away and headed for the door.
Evelinde heaved a sigh as the door closed behind him, sure he didn't believe she'd tripped over anything but her own feet. She supposed she couldn't blame him. There had been nothing that he could see for her to trip over. Making a face, Evelinde slid her feet off the bed. She was perfectly fine. Her arm muscles were a little tender, but that would pass quickly, and she had no intention of "resting. " She had a plan of action she wished to set in motion and now, more than ever, was determined to follow it.