The Hellion and the Highlander

by Lynsay Sands

  Averill was passing Brodie's room when the door suddenly opened beside her. She swung her head around with surprised alarm, but he didn't even look at her. His eyes were focused on the whiskey she held as if it were screaming his name. Before she could even say a wary, "Good eve," he snatched the mug from the hand nearest him and slammed the door closed.

  "Enjoy," Averill murmured dryly, and continued on to the laird's room, with the two still clutched in her other hand.

  Averill almost carried both into the room, but then thought better of it and set one on the floor outside the door before carrying the other in.

  "Oh, there ye are." Kade's father sat up in bed with relief when she entered.

  "Aye, and I have brought you your whiskey. Howbeit, I really do not think you should drink this," Averill said as she crossed the room. "I have seen this before and fear it will not go well."

  "Seen what?" he asked, licking his lips and reaching for the mug when she paused beside the bed, but Averill held it just out of reach.

  "This reaction to drink," she explained calmly. "Some can drink all the days of their lives without effect, but a very few grow a distaste for it in body and can no longer handle it after indulging for a long time. Judging by how ill you have been, I fear it is that way with you."

  "Doona be ridiculous, lass," he scoffed. "Gi'e me the whiskey."

  "Very well. I did warn you," Averill said, and handed it over. She then turned to head back across the room, eager to get the food to Will and Aidan before it grew cold. Even so, at the door she paused and glanced back. "Are you sure you would not like some stew, too?"

  The Stewart did not even lower the mug pressed to his mouth, but shook his head, mug and all in response.

  Shaking her own head, Averill stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed. She then grabbed up the last mug of whiskey and moved on to the next room.

  She had expected to find Gawain asleep, or at least that was what she'd hoped for. However, when Averill eased the door open and crept inside, it was to find him flat in bed, wide-awake, and staring at the ceiling. His unguarded expression was a mask of misery before he became aware of her presence and jerked his head in her direction.

  "Who are you?" Gawain asked with a small frown.

  Recalling her tussle with Brodie, Averill hesitated, but then moved cautiously forward. "Kade's wife."

  "Kade is back?" The man sat up at once, revealing his bare chest, and Averill paused a good six feet from the bed, eyeing him warily as she nodded.

  "Aye."

  "An' yer his wife?" he asked, looking her over curiously.

  "A-aye," Averill answered, suddenly self-conscious.

  He smiled faintly. "He's lucky, yer pretty."

  Averill blinked in surprise at the compliment, then noted his eyes shifting to the mug she held.

  "Is that fer me?"

  "Aye." She stiffened her spine a bit, and moved slowly forward. "Your father requested whiskey, and I brought some for you as well in case you wanted it."

  "Nay." Gawain grimaced with distaste and turned his head away as if he could not even bear to look at it, but then remembered his manners, and added, "Thank ye though."

  Averill tilted her head and eyed him curiously. He was an attractive man, or would be were he not looking so rough. Like his father's, his long hair was a tangled mess, and he sported several days' growth on his face, but his hair was a little darker than Brodie's, and he had eyes as fine as Kade's. She was pretty sure he must be an attractive man when cleaned up. He also wasn't gasping for the drink like his father and brother appeared to be on first awaking.

  "Are you sure you do not wish the whiskey?" she asked at last, testing him.

  He shook his head grimly. "I am sick unto death of the stuff."

  Averill nodded, but after a hesitation, set it on the table. If he was truly over it after vomiting for two days, well and good. If not, and this was just a hiccup in his desire for it, a third day would probably seal the deal.

  "In case you change your mind," she explained when she saw him watching her.

  Gawain grimaced again, but merely asked, "Where is Kade?"

  "He was struck by two arrows this afternoon on our way back from Donnachaidh," she admitted unhappily. "He is abed for now, mending."

  "Struck by arrows?" Gawain asked with alarm, then tossed his linens aside to stand. "Will he recover? Which room is he in?"

  Relieved to see he had braies on, Averill moved forward to catch his arm and steady him when he stood and swayed weakly.

  "Why am I so weak?" he asked, sounding frustrated.

  "I would imagine that is due to consuming little more than whiskey for several days and spending the last two retching that back up," she said, not unsympathetically.

  "Aye," Gawain said with self-disgust. "I need food, but there is none in this miserable, forsaken place."

  "No place is forsaken," Averill said quietly. "And there is food. We collected it from Donnachaidh today. I shall bring you some if you wish it?"

  "Aye. Thank ye."

  Averill nodded. When he pulled free of her hold and crossed the room on shaky legs to kneel before a chest and open it, she found herself watching him curiously. She knew none of them very well, but Gawain seemed different than his father and Brodie. He also had kind eyes, and she wondered how much of the drinking he had done was from a true desire for it and how much was simply to be included with his brother and father.

  "Why do you drink?" she asked suddenly.

  Gawain glanced at her with surprise, then smiled wryly. "All Stewart men drink."

  "Kade does not," she pointed out.

  "Aye. He was the lucky one," Gawain murmured distractedly as he sorted through the clothes in the chest. "Sent away as a lad...I ha'e often wished I had been, too." Longing flashed briefly across his face, and he shook his head. "But I wasna. Only Kade."

  Averill was silent, wondering if Gawain resented Kade for that, and if so, was it enough to make him try to kill him? She doubted it. Gawain seemed like a good man who had merely lost his way, and she had heard no tales of cruelty about him.

  On the other hand, Brodie was one to keep an eye on, she thought. There was a cold indifference and cruelty about Brodie that made her naturally wary, and that would have been the case even without the stories she'd heard about him.

  "There." Gawain sighed with relief once having chosen a tunic and donned it, then turned to Averill. "Will you take me to Kade?"

  "Aye," she murmured, and ushered him to the door. Gawain seemed a little steadier on his feet as he walked up the hall beside her, but she noticed he held one hand out toward the wall as if in preparation for catching himself should he fall, and Averill knew he did not feel as well as he appeared.

  She was aware that Gawain watched curiously as she stopped and bent to retrieve the tray of food she'd left by the door to the room she and Kade shared, but didn't comment, and he opened the door for her to enter once she was upright again.

  Murmuring a thank-you, Averill slid past him into the room and led the way to the bed as the men stopped talking and took note of their entrance.

  Will and Aidan both noted Gawain's presence at her side with narrowing eyes, but Kade actually scowled and, uncaring of how his brother might take it, barked, "I told ye to stay away from me father and brothers unless I was with ye!"

  "Aye, but he wished to come see you," she said simply, as Will stood to take the tray from her. The moment he had, she ushered Gawain into the chair her brother had vacated, worried the man might fall down if left standing.

  Will scowled at her for it but merely settled on the side of the bed with the tray, his eager eyes moving over the offerings.

  "One is for Aidan, and I brought you both some mead," Averill announced as she moved around the chair Gawain now sat in to step up close to the bed by her husband's head. She bent to press a kiss to his frowning forehead, and said, "I am glad to see you awake, scowling or not. How are you feeling?"

  Kade g

rimaced as she pressed the back of her hand to his forehead to feel for fever, and grumbled, "Heartily sick o' findin' meself in bed is how I feel."

  Averill smiled faintly and straightened. There was no sign of fever, and if he was well enough to complain, he would soon be up and about. As far as she could tell, both arrows had lodged in muscle and missed hitting any organs or bone. He'd been very lucky. Her gaze slid to the empty bowl, and she asked, "Have you had enough to eat, or shall I bring you more?"

  "I wouldna trouble ye," he muttered.

  "'Twould be no trouble," Averill assured him. "I am fetching Gawain some, and 'tis little effort to fetch two rather than one."

  That just made him glare. "Yer no a servant. Ha'e one o' them bring it up."

  "The servants are busy," she said with exasperation. "Do you wish for more, or not?"

  When Kade grimaced but nodded, she smiled, and said, "Then I shall be right back."

  Averill heard retching coming from up the hall the moment she stepped into it. Frowning, she quickly pulled the door closed behind her and peered in that direction. The sound was coming from both Brodie's and his father's rooms, but the reaction had come on much more quickly than she'd expected. It made Averill wonder if, in her rush to dose the whiskeys before anyone caught her, she might have put more than she'd intended in each. She bit her lip briefly at the possibility, but then shrugged and headed for the stairs. The men would either quit drinking, or they would spend the rest of their days hanging over their chamber pots. It was better than begetting bastards on unwilling maids, and then beating them. Not that she knew whether Laddie's mother had been willing or not, but Lily apparently hadn't been. Sighing, Averill descended the stairs for her third trip to the kitchens.

  Chapter Fourteen

  "Wife?"

  Averill blinked her eyes open at that soft query and found herself staring into the darkness over the bed. She had been lying there, trying to go to sleep for some time, but was finding it difficult. Her mind was awhirl with worries. Stewart was a desperate mess, but she had no servants to fix it. The three men who had survived captivity with her husband and Will were missing, something she knew weighed heavily on his mind and which in turn troubled her as well, and someone was trying to kill her husband. All in all, Averill thought she had more than her fair share of troubles at the moment.

  A rustle and sigh sounded next to her, reminding her of another worry. She was in bed with her husband and afraid to move for fear of jostling him and causing pain. Averill had offered to sleep in another room, but he had insisted she sleep with him "as a wife should." Now she was too worried about moving in her sleep to manage dropping off and escaping her troubles for a bit.

  "Aye?" Averill said at last on a sigh.

  "I just wondered if ye were asleep," Kade responded.

  Averill shifted carefully in the bed to face him even though she couldn't see him. "Can you not sleep?"

  "Nay," he said on a sigh.

  "Do you wish to talk?"

  "Talk?" he asked as if he didn't understand the word.

  Averill suspected he didn't do much of that. He seemed more prone to grunts and one-word comments than to actually holding conversations. She did not mind. Her father and brother could be much the same in certain moods.

  "Aye," she said now. "Did you have a good visit with your brother, Gawain?"

  "Aye," Kade answered.

  Averill waited for him to add more. When he didn't, she commented, "He seems much more like you than like Brodie and your father."

  "Aye," Kade agreed.

  Averill rolled her eyes, but prompted, "Did you tell him you intend to take over for your father?"

  "Aye."

  It seemed obvious to Averill that she had to stop asking "aye" and "nay" questions. Clearing her throat, she asked, "What did he say?"

  A pause followed her question, and Averill was just wondering with a little frustration why he had cared to know if she was awake when he did not wish to speak, when he said, "Gawain thinks Father'll be glad to be relieved o' the burden."

  Averill was congratulating herself on managing to get him to say more than "aye" when he added, "So does Aidan."

  "Well that is good, is it not?" she asked.

  "Aye."

  Averill bit her lip and pressed on, asking, "Have you figured out who might wish you dead, husband?"

  She heard a chuckle from his side of the bed, then he said dryly, "Ye ask that like yer askin' do I prefer mead or cider to drink."

  Averill was grimacing over that when he added, "Nay. I've no figured it out. I've no figured out a lot of things."

  Frowning over his fretful tone, she asked, "What else have you not figured out, my lord husband?"

  After a short pause, he burst out with, "Where the devil are me men? We should ha'e passed them on the way here, and even did we miss them, they should have arrived at Mortagne, learned we'd headed here, and arrived by now."

  "I am sure they shall show up soon," Averill said soothingly, though his question got her wondering where they had got to. As he'd said, they really should have arrived here by now. They had been three men on horseback, able to travel much more quickly than their own party of soldiers and carts had traveled to Stewart from Mortagne.

  "They had best show up soon," Kade said grimly. "I am counting on them."

  "For what, husband?" she asked curiously.

  He was silent, then muttered, "Ne'er mind. Ye should sleep, wife. 'Tis late."

  Averill frowned at the words. Her curiosity was piqued, and she'd really rather have him tell her what he was counting on the men for but doubted he would. Sighing, she laid her head back on the bed and closed her eyes, though she knew she would not sleep a wink.

  "Good morn, my lord," Averill said cheerfully as she entered Kade's father's room. It had been three days since Kade had been felled by the arrow, and each day she provided his father and Brodie with her dosed whiskey, then waited to see if they would drink...and each day they drank, then spent the rest of the day retching.

  Averill was beginning to worry that they would damage themselves with their retching did they not soon break and stop drinking, but now that the plan was in motion, she saw no alternative but to continue it. The only good thing was that Gawain had given up the drink. He was even staying away from ale and had switched to mead or cider with his meals and when thirsty. The man had also cleaned himself up, and begun to eat properly, growing more handsome every day. She was starting to think he would make someone a fine husband. Her husband had noticed the difference in him as well, and the two were developing a bond. Gawain could often be found in the room she and Kade shared, playing chess or just talking with his older brother as he recovered from his wound.

  "I have brought you more whiskey, my lord," she announced and held the mug out as she reached the bed.

  Laird Stewart took one look at the mug she held and grabbed for his chamber pot as he began to retch violently.

  Averill bit her lip and set the mug on the table beside the bed.

  "Perhaps some food would settle your stomach," she said quietly. "Certainly the whiskey does not appear to agree with it."

  "Nay, no food," he groaned, then added, "I'm dying, lass. Me days are numbered, and I'm soon to meet me maker."

  "Hmm," Averill said dryly. "I am sure you are not dying, my lord. I really think 'tis just your body announcin' it's had enough whiskey."

  "Nay, I'm dying," Eachann Stewart assured her in a pitiful moan.

  Averill rolled her eyes. "You cannot die, my lord. Who would tend to your people?"

  "Bah." He waved a hand in disgusted dismissal. "I'm sick o' it. All those servants and soldiers carpin' on about needin' this and wantin' that. I'll no' spend me dyin' days bein' tugged at by one and all." He shook his head. "Kade can do it. He is next in line and can take on the burden."

  "I'm glad to hear ye say so," Kade said suddenly. "I was goin' to force ye to step down anyway."

  Averill spun around at that announcement to find her husband in the doorway with Will, Aidan, and Gawain at his back. He was a touch pale, and was leaning against the doorframe, but he was up and dressed and in a plaid of all things, Averill noted, and found herself staring with fascination at his naked knees and calves.

  "Are ye serious?" Kade asked now, moving slowly into the room. "Are ye ready to cede the title?"

  Averill noted the stiff way he held his shoulders and knew his back and side were still troubling him. She would have preferred he stay abed for a few more days at least, but now that they were married, he was a much more troublesome patient and had refused to listen. She'd left him that morning in a huff over his being up and getting dressed.

  "Aye. Ye can ha'e the title and job and good luck to ye," Eachann Stewart said grimly. "I ha'e had enough."

  Kade eyed him for a moment, then glanced over his shoulder to Gawain, Will, and Aidan. "Ye heard. He's abdicated. I am laird now.

  When they both nodded solemnly, he turned back to his father to say firmly, "There'll be no changin' yer mind, now."

  "I ken," his father said wearily, and dropped the chamber pot to lie back on the bed with a sigh, "Now come tell me about yer time away ere this illness takes me and I'm gone."

  Averill shook her head with amusement at his dramatics and slid past the three men in the door to make her escape before Kade remembered he'd ordered her to stay away from his father and brothers and had just caught her in his father's room.

  She was pulling the door closed behind her when she saw Morag moving up the hall, a mug in hand, and a look as grim as death on her face.

  Frowning, Averill moved to intercept her. "Is that for Brodie?"

  "Aye," the woman said grimly. "He caught Laddie loiterin' in the hall, cuffed him, and said to get that little maid Lily to bring him some whiskey. I told the lad I'd be bringin' it up."

  Averill sighed at this news, knowing Laddie had been loitering in the hall waiting for her to make an appearance. He had taken his chore of guarding her very seriously once the supplies were all put away and the kitchen set to rights. Averill had been forced to rise early to make her morning deliveries of whiskey to the two remaining drinking Stewart men, slipping in at the crack of dawn to set the whiskey on their bedside tables. She was usually out and at the trestle table below before Laddie came looking for her. This morning, however, she had been held up by her argument with Kade over his getting out of bed, and the boy had paid for it.

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