Chapter Fourteen
"Nay, husband, I have water!" Evelinde shouted between coughs, then gave up her protest to leap to the side as she saw Cullen rushing the flames from the hall.
The stupid man is going to get himself killed when if he'd just waited a moment, I could have put out the fire, she thought impatiently.
It had taken Evelinde a moment to recall the pail of dirty water in the room, a precious moment during which the fire had grown wildly, and she'd heard her husband shout for her. She cursed that moment of stupidity as she watched Cullen try to leap the flames. He might have managed to do so were it not for the doorframe. There simply wasn't enough room for his tall body between the top of the flames and the upper ledge of the door.
Much to her relief, Cullen had the sense to tuck his head down as he jumped, but his shoulders still hit the doorframe, and he crashed back down short of safety.
Evelinde screamed in alarm, her heart lodging itself in her throat as he came down at the edge of the burning rushes, but in the next moment, he'd thrown himself forward and rolled away from the fire.
"Are you all right?" she gasped, hurrying to his side as he regained his feet.
"Aye," Cullen growled, grabbing her by the arm and urging her to the window as she began to cough again. Once she'd drawn in a couple of fresh breaths and stopped coughing, he asked, "What happened?"
Ignoring the question, Evelinde peered over him a bit frantically for any sign of burns or injury, repeating, "Are you all right?"
He had given her such a fright! The likes of which she hadn't experienced since the day her father had died. She'd had that same sickening lurch in her stomach when he'd clutched his arm, turned grey, and tumbled from his seat, but it was a sensation she'd never experienced before or since then… until now, with this man. It told Evelinde that her feelings for her husband were much stronger than she'd imagined. Somehow, despite his frustrating silence, the man had found his way into her heart.
"I'm fine," Cullen assured her, catching at her fluttering hands. "We have to get out of here. "
Evelinde's eyes widened with alarm, and she scrambled away from him and across the room when he reached for her. She had no doubt he intended to scoop her up in his arms and carry her out of the room, but there was no need.
"Wife!" he snapped, following, but paused when she picked up the pail of water in the corner. However, when she headed toward the flames to throw the water on them, he was suddenly at her side.
"Give me that," Cullen snapped, taking the heavy pail. When she released it easily and bent to cough as the smoke irritated her throat and lungs again, he ordered, "Wait by the window. The air is better. "
Evelinde grimaced at his sharp tone, but when she opened her mouth to protest and ended coughing again, she gave way and did as instructed. She watched worriedly from the window as Cullen braved the heat of the flames quickly and efficiently to douse the fire. The water didn't put it out entirely, but it was enough that he was able then to beat out the rest of the flames with the damp rags she fetched for him.
"What happened?" Cullen asked as he beat out the last of the flames.
"I am not sure," Evelinde admitted, using another damp rag to try to wave the slowly dissipating smoke out through the window. "I think the torch fell out of its holder and onto the rushes. "
His expression told her he doubted it had done so on its own, but she continued, "I had just remembered the pail of water when I heard you shout. I tried to yell at you not to risk yourself until I had doused the flames, but…" She shrugged, not bothering to point out that he hadn't listened.
Cullen merely grunted, and bent to peer at something in the embers. Giving up on the smoke, Evelinde moved up behind him to see what it was, her eyes moving over the torch lying in the center of the pile. When his gaze then lifted to the holder beside the door, she followed his glance, noting that the holder was tipped to the side as if to suggest the brace had slid, and the torch had fallen out. The problem was that even she could see that had the torch fallen out, it would have fallen closer to its holder, not the good foot and a half it had somehow traveled to land in the center of the rushes.
"It was not an accident," Cullen growled, straightening.
"Nay," Evelinde agreed quietly, but wasn't surprised. She hadn't heard it fall. Surely had it tumbled from its holder in some natural fashion, she would have heard it hit the floor? There should have been a thump, or at least a rustle of the rushes. However, there had been no sound to warn her. The smoke had been her first and only warning.
"But it would have looked like one had the fire done its work and destroyed the torch ere we got it put out," he continued grimly. "The tilted holder would have suggested it had fallen out on its own. "
"Aye. " Evelinde sighed, then watched silently as he straightened and moved around the embers to the iron holder fixed into the stone wall by one large bolt. There had been two when Mildrede had put the torch in earlier. Evelinde swept the floor with her eyes but didn't see the second bolt anywhere. She then glanced back to Cullen as he turned the holder upright and saw his mouth tighten when it moved silently. When he then gave the bolt still in the wall a tug, it came out easily and equally silently, which explained why she hadn't heard a thing.
Tossing the torch holder aside with disgust, Cullen turned back to sweep her into his arms and step over the still-smoking embers. They met Fergus as Cullen carried her into the hall. The older man was out of breath, a pail of water in each hand and several women behind him with more.
"The fire is out, but the embers are still hot. Douse them well," Cullen growled, then carried Evelinde to their room.
She could have walked, but already knew from past experience that there was no sense arguing with Cullen. The man would carry her when he wished, and, apparently, he wished to now. Evelinde remained still in his arms as he strode to the door of their chamber, reached out to open it when he growled the order to do so, then waited patiently as he carried her inside, kicking the door closed behind them. However, the moment he stopped beside the bed, she kicked her legs and asked him to set her down.
Cullen hesitated long enough that she thought he would refuse, but then he reluctantly set her on her feet. The moment he did, Evelinde dropped to her knees before him and began examining his legs for burns.
"What are ye doing?" Cullen asked, trying to step away.
Evelinde hooked one arm around his leg to hold him in place and continued her inspection, even going so far as to lift his plaid to check his upper legs and thighs.
"Wife!" He tried to brush her hands away, and she glanced up, surprised to see that the man was actually blushing at her efforts.
"I wish to be sure you suffered no burns when you landed in the flames," she explained, and pushed his plaid up again, surprised to find a growing erection staring back at her. While her interest was purely out of concern for his well-being, it appeared Cullen was finding it all rather… interesting.
Shaking her head, Evelinde continued to peer over his skin, crawling around him to check the back as well. She had just lifted the back of the plaid and noted that he really had a very nice bottom when Cullen appeared to reach his limit. Turning swiftly, he caught her under the arm and dragged her back to her feet, his expression exasperated.
"I am no burned," he growled. "And I am more concerned with you at the moment. Ye breathed in a lot of smoke. Does yer chest hurt?"
"Nay," she assured him solemnly, then couldn't resist grinning and adding, "Would you care to check me for burns?"
Cullen's mouth dropped open at the bold invitation, then he shook his head on a reluctant laugh as he pulled her into his arms for a hug. The chuckle ended on a sigh as he rested his chin on her head, and said, "Yer going to be the death of me, wife. "
Evelinde's own smile faded at the soft words as fear claimed her that she might indeed be the death of him did such "accidents" continue. While the fire suggested she was the target, C
ullen could have been killed today trying to save her from it. Had she not had the bucket of water inside the room, they would both have been trapped in the smoke-filled chamber. Evelinde was sure he couldn't have leapt back through the burning rushes carrying her, and was equally sure he would have tried rather than leave her there to stay and smother to death in the thickening smoke. She had no doubt Cullen would have saved her, but he could very well have burned himself badly doing so, and burns often ended in infection and death.
"Have I told ye yet today how much ye please me fer a wife?"
Evelinde stilled at those soft words and leaned back to peer at him. Something about the softness in his eyes made the breath catch in her throat. She thought it might be more than the simple caring of a husband for his wife.
"What the devil happened here?"
"Where is my lady?"
Evelinde and Cullen both glanced toward the closed bedchamber door at the startled cries from the hall. It seemed Mildrede and Tavis had returned from their first trip to remove rushes. Not that they would have to make many more trips, she supposed wryly. The rushes were now a pile of charred and soggy ashes on the solar floor. A frown claimed her lips as she wondered if the floor would now need repairing.
A sigh from Cullen drew her attention back to him as he eased her away and turned toward the door.
Evelinde started to follow, but, he paused at the door and glanced back to order, "Stay put. I shall send a bath up to ye. "
Evelinde scowled at the door when he pulled it closed. She was reaching to open it when she heard Cullen begin shouting in the hall. He was giving Fergus and Tavis the sharp side of his tongue for not staying with her but leaving her to work in the solar alone. She considered going out to explain that she'd told them there was no need, but then thought better of it. Cullen wouldn't see that as a good excuse for their not following his orders. He blamed the men, and nothing she said was going to change that. In fact, Evelinde suspected her intervention would just annoy him further and make it worse for the men.
Sighing, she turned away from the door and moved back to the chair to await her bath.
"No one went above stairs," Fergus repeated for the fourth time. "The torch must have fallen out by itself. "
"It didna fall out by itself," Cullen growled with frustration.
"But no one went above stairs," the older man insisted. "I was watching the whole time. "
"Ye didna look away even fer a minute?" Cullen asked grimly.
"Nay," Fergus assured him.
"Well…" Both men paused and glanced to Tavis as he spoke the word. The man cast an apologetic glance to Fergus, then pointed out, "Ye did come help with the door. "
Fergus's shoulders sagged, and he ran one hand wearily through his hair. "They both had their hands full with the rushes, so I hurried over to the door to open it for them," he admitted on a sigh, then rallied and added, "but that only took a moment, surely not enough time for someone to get upstairs without me noticing. "
"Apparently it was," Cullen growled, furious that the man had failed him like this. Fergus was usually the most dependable of men. It was why he had been first for so long, first to Cullen's father, then for himself.
"Well, they could not have got up and down in that time," Fergus pointed out, sounding frustrated. "It had to have been an accident. "
"They could have waited up here and slipped away while I was in the room, and you were below fetching water," Cullen pointed out.
The point did not please the man. He shook his head stubbornly, and insisted, "It had to have been an accident. I cannot believe anyone would—"
"It wasna an accident," Cullen interrupted furiously, then added, "In future, whoever is guarding my wife is to remain in the room with her, or follow wherever she goes. Understood?"
"Aye," Fergus and Tavis said as one.
Cullen let his breath out on a pent-up sigh. He wasn't satisfied. Evelinde had nearly died, and it was leaving him with an urge either to make love to her and hold her close for a good several hours or, alternately, to smash something. Unfortunately, Mildrede had rushed off to the chamber to see that her mistress was all right as soon as he'd begun yelling at the men, and the servants even now were trudging up the stairs with the tub and water he'd ordered before laying into Tavis and Fergus for allowing this to happen. Making love to his wife was out, and as much as he'd like to, striking one or both of the men before him was not an acceptable choice at the moment either. Angry as he was, he might very well kill one or both of them.
He needed an outlet, however, and turned abruptly away from the men to head for the stairs. A rant with Mac, then a hard ride on his mount should help him use up some of the heated blood pouring through his veins, Cullen thought, but paused and scowled with frustration as he realized he couldn't get down the stairs until the women got up them with the tub.
His angry glare was on the women as he waited impatiently, but then it turned to a concerned frown as he noted the struggle the women were having with the tub. It was taking four of them to cart the item, which made negotiating the stairs with it a tricky business, and Cullen suddenly recalled his wife's claiming that a couple of men to work in the keep would ease the burden somewhat. It would only have taken two men to handle the tub, which would have speeded up the process and made it less difficult.
As he was thinking about the matter of men in the castle, Cullen was recalling the last time they'd had boar for sup. The beast had been spice and cooked on the spit, then stuffed and presented on one large platter. It had taken six women to bring the beast out, and the animal had landed in the rushes when one of the women stumbled and the tray tipped and the carcass slid off. They'd quickly stopped and replaced the beast on the tray and continued forward, and the meal had still been good, but they'd had to pick off the pieces of rushes and other unsavory bits that had stuck to the animal after the fall.
Men to help with the heavier kitchen tasks might have saved such an accident. It also would have freed the women to serve the other dishes more quickly. And really, having three or four men in the castle to help with such tasks would hardly leave him lacking men to train, and the men could take turns at it; a day in the castle, three or four at practice perhaps. His wife's suggestion really was a good one he admitted reluctantly. He would have to arrange it.
"I wish to take a bath and cannot do so with the two of you standing there watching," Evelinde repeated with exasperation, finding it impossible to believe her husband had really ordered the men to stay in the same room with her. What had he been thinking? Obviously, he hadn't been thinking at all when he'd given that order. At least he hadn't been thinking about the fact that he'd ordered a bath for her as well. Good Lord! Were the two men going to crowd into the privy with her when she needed to use it?
Evelinde tried to push that thought out of her mind the moment it entered. Just thinking about it was likely to make her need to relieve herself, then she'd be in a real pickle.
"The laird ordered that we are to stay in the same room with ye," Fergus repeated stubbornly. He was looking a bit angry and annoyed at the whole business. Obviously, he was displeased with getting into trouble and unwilling to risk disobeying Cullen's order. Tavis, on the other hand, was grinning like an idiot at the idea of her having to bathe in front of them.
"Now, this is just folly," Mildrede said with exasperation, weighing into the fray. "You cannot stand there while she bathes. "
"And we cannot leave," Fergus said firmly. "She will just have to wait until Cullen returns to bathe. "
"Oh, that would be a waste," Tavis protested. "The water will get cold, and after the ladies worked so hard at heating and bringing it up here. "
Evelinde scowled at her husband's cousin, knowing he didn't care a fig for all the work the women had put into preparing the bath. Otherwise, he would have helped carry up the bloody tub. Shifting impatiently, she headed for the door, asking, "Where is my husband?"
r /> When she got no answer, Evelinde glanced back to see that while they were following her, their expressions suggested they had no idea where the man had gone. Shaking her head with exasperation, she pulled the door open and sailed out of the room, aware that the men were still following. Evelinde paused at the top of the stairs, her gaze sliding over the great hall below with irritation. She'd hoped to find him below dealing with some business or other, but he was absent from the nearly empty room and could be anywhere. He might have been in the bailey, the stables, working in the practice field or he may even have left the castle. How annoying!
Evelinde stood at the top of the stairs, undecided as to what to do. Then she nodded firmly to herself and swung back around. Fergus and Tavis broke apart to make way for her and followed as she moved quickly back along the hall, but when she reached her room, Evelinde opened the door just enough to slip inside, then slammed it quickly closed as the men realized what she was doing and rushed forward. She barely managed to slam the bar into place before they thumped against the other side of the wooden panel.