The Highlander Takes a Bride by Lynsay Sands

desperate to make a lady o’ me, he said that ’twas because she feared there were few men like him who would be happy with such a woman to wife. That most lairds expected a lady, and so she’d curbed her own wildness to try to teach me to be the lady she knew everyone expected.”
    Silence fell when she stopped talking, and Saidh had to wonder why she’d even said so much to this man. He was a stranger, yet she was confessing things she’d not even told Murine, Joan and Edith, who were dear friends of hers.
    “And the sword?”
    Saidh stiffened when those words were almost whispered by her ear. He was behind her now, the heat of his chest warming her back and his hand now resting at her waist, just above her sheathed sword.
    “I—” She paused and cleared her throat when that one word came out on a husky breath, and then tried again. “Me oldest brother, Aulay, had the blacksmith make it fer me birthday, years ago,” she confessed and then grinned and added, “He said he got tired o’ me brothers complaining that I’d taken their swords.”
    That brought a chuckle from the man and his breath stirred the back of her hair. Disturbed by his closeness, she moved away and turned, giving him a wide berth and avoiding looking at him as she walked to the water’s edge.
    “Is the bottom dirt or slippery stone?” she asked abruptly, peering at the dark surface of the lake.
    “Dirt with small pebbles,” he answered, his voice moving closer again. “It is no’ slippery at all.”
    “Does the water drop off of a sudden or gradually deepen?”
    “There are no sudden drops that I ha’e yet found,” he responded and then asked, “Thinking o’ swimming here?”
    Saidh considered the possibility. It wasn’t why she’d asked her questions, but the idea of stripping off her clothes and sinking into that cool, embracing water did sound tempting.
    “Or trying to sort out if Allen drowned accidentally or was killed?”
    That question made her whirl with dismay. “I’m quite sure Fenella did no’ drown Allen.”
    “So am I.”
    Saidh blinked in surprise and then tilted her head. “Really?”
    “Aye. There were no signs o’ damage to the body. He was no’ hit over the head or any such thing, and she is no’ strong enough to have held him under. Besides, she was at the castle when it happened. Allen had ordered a bath fer her ere taking himself here. Several servants were needed to carry up the tub and water and then to take it away, and they all swear she was in their room. And just as many swear that she was at the table in the great hall after that. She could no’ ha’e killed him.”
    Saidh let out a little breath of relief. While she’d said she was quite sure Fenella had not killed Allen, and while she’d been telling herself the same thing, she was almost ashamed to admit even to herself that some small part of her had still wondered. It was all because of Hammish. She kept seeing Fenella in the clearing, the man’s blood on her hands. Of course, the deaths of her other two husbands between Hammish and Allen had not helped either.
    “So you think Allen’s death was just a tragic accident?” she asked solemnly
    “I did no’ say that,” the MacDonnell said quietly and she peered at him wide-eyed.
    “You do no’ think ’twas an accident?”
    “She could ha’e hired someone to do the deed,” he pointed out solemnly.
    Saidh began shaking her head at once. Her thinking that the abuse her cousin had suffered on her first wedding night had driven Fenella insane and turned her into some kind of husband-killing madwoman was one thing, but what he was suggesting was cold-blooded and preplanned. “Nay. I think she truly loved Allen.”
    “Do ye?” he asked curiously, and then admitted, “She claims to me that she did, but what else would she say?”
    “I think she’s being honest when she says it,” she assured him, her voice firm.
    “Why?” he asked.
    Saidh briefly debated what she should