Free Devil of the Highlands by Lynsay Sands

the same reason after his death…
    There were so many things she would not have left behind. However, Mildrede was the most important. And she'd hoped to be able to speak to her husband about possibly bringing Mac with them. He was a Scot and should have fit in at Donnachaidh, and she worried about leaving him behind with Edda. The woman would have to turn her frustration and anger on someone else now that Evelinde was no longer there to abuse, and Mac would be her most likely target.
    But she had nothing. Evelinde did not even have a small bag with a change of clothes as far as she knew. She was going forth into her new life with nothing but the clothes on her back, she realized, and felt fear and anxiety claim her.
    It was what every girl had to face when she reached marriageable age, and really Evelinde had been fortunate in not having to do so when much younger—as most girls had to. She would have, had fate not intervened. First, her betrothed drowned when he was twelve. Before her father had found a replacement for him, her mother had fallen ill, and his time had been taken up with worry over her. When Margaret d'Aumesbery had passed away, her father had put off finding Evelinde a husband, wishing to keep her close after losing the woman he hadn't known when he'd married but whom he'd soon grown to love. He'd finally begun searching for a husband for Evelinde just before the chest complaint had taken him.
    Still, despite being older than most girls were when they started a new life with their husbands far away from everything and everyone they had ever known, Evelinde didn't think it was any easier. Her husband was a complete stranger, and her new home was a distant place she knew nothing about. It was all terribly scary.
    Something else for her to lift her head and bear, she supposed. There seemed to be a lot of that in a female's life. Realizing she was making herself weepy and miserable, Evelinde closed her eyes and decided to try to sleep. There was little else she could do at this point.
     

 

     
     

Chapter Five
     

 

     
     

     
    "We're home."
    Evelinde opened her eyes and glanced up at her husband. She then sat up a little straighter in his lap and followed his gaze to the dark castle towering ahead in the darkness. Trepidation immediately slithered through her.Truly, Donnachaidh was a grim and gloomy fortress cloaked in night as it was, she decided, as Cullen urged his mount up the hill toward the gates. Evelinde settled back against his chest and rubbed her hands over her face, trying to wake up properly. She'd nodded on and off through most of the three-day journey. Not because of Mildrede's tonic, but just because it was long and monotonous and seemingly without end. The first time she'd woken was the morning after they left d'Aumesbery. She'd been stirred from sleep to find most of the effects of the tonic gone. It had been a relief since it had been a burning need to relieve herself that had dragged her awake. Wouldn't that have been embarrassing had she still not had control of her muscles?
    Cullen had only stopped long enough for her to take care of business, then had hurried her back to his horse.
    He'd set her in the saddle, mounted behind her, and they were off again. A few moments later, he'd retrieved an apple, some cheese, and bread from a bag hanging from his horse and offered it to her. It was then Evelinde had realized they would not be stopping except to take care of personal needs.
    They'd ridden through the day, traveling at a speed that didn't allow for conversation unless she wished to risk biting off her own tongue. The only other stops they'd made had been to change horses once a day.
    Evelinde would have liked to ask why they were in such a rush. She would have liked to ask where the rest of his men were, too. She hadn't realized it when they'd first left d'Aumesbery, but once she'd been able to lift her head and look around, it was to see that their party was made up of