The Hellion and the Highlander (25 page)

“Then do whatever ye wish with him. I doona care,” Kade said with indifference, and turned away again. This time he carried her out of the room without being called back.

“I am fine. You need not carry me,” Averill murmured, as he carried her along the hall toward their room.

“Yer bleedin’,” he said grimly.

“What?” she asked with surprise.

“Yer neck.”

She felt worriedly at her throat and winced at the tenderness there and the length of the slice in her throat. It was long, but Averill had no idea whether it was from when she’d hit Domnall over the head the first time, or from when he’d been dragging her around before that. She didn’t think it was very deep, though. At least she hoped not.

“’Tis all right,” Averill said reassuringly. “It hardly hurts.”

Kade ignored that and roared, “Bess,” as he carried her past the stairs.

“Husband, I am fine. Really,” she insisted, tempted to smile at his concern.

This had no more effect than her earlier reassurance, and he continued on to their room. Once there, Kade carried her to the bed then paused. Rather than set her down on it, he turned and settled to sit on the edge of it himself, still holding her in his arms. He then kissed her with a barely restrained violence that rather took her breath away.

“Yer ne’er to scare me like that again,” Kade growled when he finally lifted his head. “I thought I’d lost ye.”

Averill stared at him, a bit stunned by the depth of emotion she saw in his eyes, then glanced to the door as Bess bustled into the room.

“You called for me, my—” Her voice died as she spotted Averill. The maid blanched at the blood
Averill could now feel dripping down her throat, then turned and rushed back out into the hall, shouting for water and linens. Bess was back in the room in a trice and detouring for the chest where Averill kept her bag of medicinals. She paused long enough to retrieve what she thought she would need from the bag and moved over to stand before Averill and Kade.

“What happened?” Bess asked as she placed two fingers under Averill’s chin and tilted her head up to better see the wound.

“Domnall cut her,” Kade snarled, sounding like he’d like to kill the man, already dead or not.

“I hope you beat him for it,” Bess said grimly as she leaned closer.

“Nay,” Kade said, sounding unhappy, then added, “Averill killed him.”

“I did not,” she gasped, jerking her face from Bess’s hand to glare at her husband. “I merely hit him with the shield. He fell on his own knife and killed himself.”

“Oh,” he said, then his lips spread in a slow grin. “Laddie, you, and Morag are proving handy with shields. I’m thinkin’ we should hang some on every wall o’ the keep. If we’re ever invaded, ye can beat ’em back fer us.”

“Morag used a tray,” Averill reminded him, relieved to see some of the grimness slipping away.

“A shield is heavier,” he pointed out. “And had there been one in our room that night, she’d ha’e no’ spilled yer meal.”

“Aye,” Averill agreed. “Shields it is.”

They smiled at each other and glanced toward the door as a rustling announced the arrival of Morag. She carried a bowl of water and the linen Bess had shouted for, and Bess took both with relief and quickly set about cleaning Averill’s neck.

“’Twill need stitches,” Bess decided as soon as she’d cleaned the blood away.

“Nay,” Averill gasped, lowering her head with alarm.

“’Tis bleeding badly, Avy,” Will said, making his presence known, and she turned to find that they had a good-sized audience by then. Will, Laddie, Aidan, Gawain, and Ian stood watching with solemn expressions, each nodding as she glanced at them.

Morag was still hovering nearby, and Lily and Annie were entering the room even then.

Averill bit her lip and glanced to Kade.

“’Tis a nasty cut, wife, and in an awkward spot. Every time ye turn yer head, ’twill reopen. ’Twould be better were it sewn up,” he said with regret, then glanced to the maids, and ordered, “Fetch her some whiskey.”

“I shall get the needle,” Bess announced, moving away even as Morag headed out to get the requested whiskey.

“But…” Averill began with something close to panic. She paused, however, before blurting the rest of what she wanted to say, that she didn’t wish to have stitches. Averill had stitched up countless
injuries since her mother had taught her to tend the ailing and injured, but had only ever needed them once herself, and that was for a cut on the palm of her hand as a child. It had only been two very tiny stitches, but in her recollection it had hurt like the devil to get them, and she knew this was a much larger cut and very much feared it was going to hurt even worse. Rather than blurt her desire not to have them, she tried, “But, husband, surely do we put some ointment on it and bandage it up, ’twill close on its own. I will just not turn my head for a while. I am sure ’tis not as deep as all that and will heal quickly.”

“Ye canno’ see it, wife. ’Tis no’ shallow.”

“But—” Averill paused as a small hand slid into hers. Turning, she found herself peering at Laddie as he squeezed her fingers reassuringly with his much smaller ones.

“I’ll hold yer hand through it, me lady,” the boy offered, solemnly. “’Twill no’ be so bad, and ye can squeeze me as hard as ye like if it hurts. Me ma always held mine for me while me scrapes and cuts were tended, and it helps do ye close yer eyes tight and squeeze real hard on someone’s fingers.”

Touched, Averill let her breath out on a small puff and squeezed his hand gently in gratitude. “Thank you, Laddie. And I shall return the favor do you ever need it.”

He smiled at the words, then glanced around as Morag reentered, a pitcher of whiskey in hand.

Averill grimaced at the sight. She’d never cared
much for the drink, and it did seem ironic that she was now going to drink some when she had worked so hard to stop her father-in-law and Gawain from drinking it. But she had called for it often enough in the past for men she was about to take the needle or knife to, and suspected she would be grateful for the effects of the liquid fire once Bess’s needle began pushing into her skin.

Straightening her shoulders at the very thought, Averill held her hand out for the pitcher.

The click of the bedchamber door stirred Averill from the bored doze she had fallen into.

It had been three days since Domnall had died. He and Brodie had been laid to rest, Brodie in the family crypt with a priest to see him on his way, and Domnall without religious rites and away from the keep. Everything had settled down at Stewart since then. Kade’s father was no longer moaning about being sure he was dying but had begun to dress and clean himself up and make appearances below stairs at the table for meals. He and Gawain were still not drinking, much to her relief, and while she knew they might slip back to their old habits, she and Kade would do what they could to prevent it. Ian was recovering nicely from the wound Domnall had given him and talking
about returning to find the little English miss who had mended him. Will was making noises about taking his men and heading home and perhaps collecting his own betrothed and settling down, and most of the servants had come back to Stewart and were returning the castle to its former glory.

At least, that was what Averill had been told. She knew none of this for sure herself because she had been stuck in the bedchamber she and Kade shared…healing. Averill rolled her eyes with disgust at the thought. Kade was an even more stubborn nursemaid than she and insisted she needed to remain in bed after the wound she’d taken and the stitches Bess had placed in her throat. She had spent the last three days bored to tears, with only Laddie and Bess and the occasional visit from her brother or the other men to keep her company through the day. Kade came to sit with her in the evenings and read to her as she had once done for him, his deep voice rolling over her in soothing waves. However, Averill was heartily sick of the enforced rest and had planned all day to talk to Kade when he arrived that night and insist he let her up on the morrow.

Recalling that intent, she watched as he began to strip away his clothes. At first Averill was so distracted by the sight that she quite lost the thread of what she’d wished to speak to him about, then she noted the slump to his shoulders and the grimness on his face and frowned. The man was terribly depressed and had been since the night Domnall had
died. At first, she hadn’t been able to understand what was causing it. She herself was relieved he was dead, or at least, that the threat to her husband was over. However, then Averill had recalled that Domnall was his cousin and had once been a friend and comrade of Kade’s and, despite his murderous behavior in the end, her husband was probably mourning his loss.

Averill waited until he had finished undressing and slid into bed beside her before broaching the subject, then said gently, “I am sorry, husband. I know that Domnall was once a friend to you. You must grieve for him no matter that he turned in the end.”

Kade turned an askance glance on her. “Are ye mad? He killed Angus and tried to kill Ian and you.” He shook his head. “Nay. I’m no sorry he’s dead. It saves me ha’ing to kill him meself. But the bloody bastard went and killed hisself ere I could beat the whereabouts o’ the chest out o’ him. He must be sitting in hell laughin’ himself silly at bestin’ me like that.” Kade ground his teeth together at the thought, and added bitterly, “The worst part is the ones who’ll pay for it are the people o’ Stewart. I counted on the chest to help get them through the winter this year.”

Averill’s eyes widened as she suddenly recalled the chest he and Domnall had seemed to find so important. It had not come up as a topic these few days, but now that it had, she had good news for him. Averill opened her mouth to tell him where
it was, but curiosity made her ask instead, “What is in the chest that is so important that Domnall killed two men and would have killed you for?”

“Coin,” Kade said simply.

Averill frowned, and muttered, “It must hold a lot of coin, for ’twas bloody heavy. I could not even lift it when Domnall ordered me to.”

“What?” He peered at her sharply.

She smiled faintly, and announced, “’Tis in the secret passage, in an alcove by the entrance into Brodie’s room. You probably walked right past it—”

Averill fell silent. Her husband wasn’t listening anyway. He had launched himself from the bed and crossed the room. Kade was out the door before she could shout out to remind him that he was naked. Shaking her head, she tugged the linens out from under the furs and wrapped the soft cloth around herself over the thin chemise she wore as she got up to follow. She was at the door before thinking to grab her husband’s plaid to cover him.

Muttering under her breath with irritation, Averill scoured the shadowy floor for the discarded item, then grabbed it up when she spotted it and headed for the door once more, only to have to struggle with it, trying to open it without losing her hold on either the linen wrapped around her or the plaid. She managed it with some time and effort, then stepped out into the hall in time to see Kade returning.

He strode toward her, a completely changed man from the slump-shouldered one who had entered
the room moments ago. Kade was still naked as a babe, the chest the only thing covering his groin, but his shoulders were back, his stride confident, and a smile split his lips as he carried the chest toward her…as if the bloody thing weighed nothing, Averill noted, impressed with the strength he was exhibiting.

When he had nearly reached her, Averill stepped aside for him to enter the room ahead of her, noting as she did that Morag and Bess were at the top of the stairs, gaping after him like a couple of fools.

Shaking her head, Averill followed her husband into their room and closed the door.

Kade was already on the bed when she crossed the room. He sat cross-legged, the chest before him, and was fiddling with the latch to open it. She heard the click as it gave, then he threw the lid open, revealing the contents.

Averill came to an abrupt halt at the sight of the coin inside. The chest was full to the top, some even spilling out on the uneven surface of the bed.

“You are rich,” she gasped with amazement.

“Aye,” he said with a grin. “We are.”

“But how—?” Averill asked with bewilderment.

Kade shrugged. “As soon as I earned me spurs I started workin’ as a mercenary. A hired sword to help out any who could pay.” He grinned. “Desperate men pay well.”

When Averill glanced at him with surprise, he shrugged again.

“I had nothin’ better to do. Mother wanted me
nowhere near Stewart and me father…and Uncle Simon didna need me help, so I gathered a small army of men together, and we worked for coin.” He peered back to the chest as he added, “The men often spent theirs on women and drink, but I’m no’ a drinker, and I’ve never had to pay for women, so I saved most o’ mine. Plus I got an extra fee fer arrangin’ everythin’.” His eyes ran over the coins, and he said, “I always planned to use it to better Stewart. I just didna realize how much it would be needed.”

Averill sank onto the bed, asking with bewilderment. “But if you are rich, why did you marry me?”

“What?” Kade turned to her with surprise. He frowned at her bewildered expression. “Why diya think I married ye, Averill?”

“For my dower,” she admitted.

He snorted. “That piddlin’ amount?”

She flushed hotly. “’Twas quite generous.”

“Aye,” Kade said soothingly, and leaned to press a kiss to her cheek, then straightened again and scooped up a handful of the coins and let them rain back in. “But ’tis naught next to this.”

Averill gazed at the chest as well and had to admit that he was right, her dower had been nowhere near this rich.

“Ye thought I married ye for yer dower?” he asked, distracting her.

Averill flushed but nodded. “Well, aye, that and because I am Will’s sister.”

Kade laughed at that. “By that reckoning, I’d as well have married yer father.”

She smiled automatically, but then frowned, and asked, “But then why
did
you marry me, husband?”

“Avy,” he said seriously, “why would I not? I liked ye from the start, enjoyed yer company, thought yer hair beautiful and yer birthmark adorable…and I soon came to love ye. Mayhap e’en before we married. I craved yer company every minute we were apart.”

Averill stared at him with bewilderment, then pointed out, “But I stammer like an idiot.”

“No’ an idiot,” Kade said at once, almost sounding angry. “Ye stammer when yer nervous, is all.” He clucked his tongue with irritation, and asked, “Ye doona think Laddie an idiot, do ye?”

“Nay, of course not. And I know I am not one either, but others think me an idiot when I stammer, and—”

“Why do ye care what others think?” he asked with a shrug. “I’m yer husband, and I ken yer clever.”

Her eyebrows rose, and she asked uncertainly, “And you do not mind that I am clever?”

“Why would I mind?” he asked with amusement.

Averill shrugged unhappily. “Most men do not care for clever wives.”

“I’m no’ most men,” Kade said dryly. “And nay, I doona mind. In fact, I’d have it no other way. I love yer cleverness, Avy. I love you.”

Averill bit her lip, then admitted, “And I love you, too, husband, and suspect I have done so since before the wedding, too. I could not help it. Will filled my head with so many stories of your honor and courage that I was half in love with you before you even awoke.”

The smile that broke out on his face then was bright enough to light up the darkest night, but Averill got little chance to enjoy it. Kade suddenly leaned forward and kissed her, his mouth covering hers in a passionate kiss as if to seal the deal, and Averill suspected that was all he had intended it to be, but as always happened when he kissed her, their passion flared, burning bright and hot between them. Within moments, Kade was breaking the kiss, but only to remove the chest from the bed. He urged her to her feet, removed the linen wrapped around her, then her chemise, and ushered her back into bed. He followed, pulling her against his chest to kiss her again.

Kade’s body pressed against hers as they kissed, one leg sliding between both of hers as he gathered her closer, so that his hands could slide up and down her back and cup her behind. And then he broke the kiss abruptly, and muttered, “Yer neck.”

“’Tis fine,” she assured him quickly, reaching down between them to clasp his erection encouragingly. “’Tis healing. Bess says she will remove the stitches in a few days.”

Averill grimaced even as she said the words, for
receiving them had been an ordeal she would not soon forget. She had only managed to keep from weeping and screaming in pain because she’d had so many there looking on worriedly.

Kade’s creeping hands distracted her from the unpleasant memory, and she sighed as one closed over a breast, squeezing and kneading the orb, then plucking at the nipple until she moaned at the excitement building in her. When he then pressed her onto her back, Averill closed her eyes and went willingly until he announced, “We must be careful. Yer no to move.”

Her eyes popped open at the order, and she unthinkingly started to raise her head to peer down at him as he slid down her body, but a pulling of the stitches in her neck made her pause. Averill forced herself back to lie flat, remonstrating with herself to stay still, then clutched at the linens and gasped as he took one erect nipple into his mouth and began to lave and suckle it. Staying still soon become a challenge as his wandering lips and tongue left her breast to move lower, exploring her belly button, a hipbone, an inner thigh. By the time he urged her legs apart and dipped between them to kiss her there, Averill was atremble with so much excitement and pleasure that it was becoming impossible to control herself. Her body wanted to move, her head needing to shift and twist back and forth on the pillow.

“Husband, I prithee,” Averill gasped when she
could stand it no more. “Do you not stop that and make love to me, I shall surely start thrashing my head about and rip my stitches.”

Kade paused at once and lifted his head to look at her. Apparently deciding she was not jesting, he crawled back up her body. He paused then, holding himself still, his hips resting between hers and arms holding his weight as he peered down into her face.

“Raise yer knees for me,” he growled.

Averill obeyed at once, making a cradle for him. He then bent his head to kiss her. His lips brushed across hers once, then twice, his hips shifting in time with the action so that his erection rubbed across the core of her in warm, firm strokes that made her moan. Averill reached up to grasp his shoulders, clutching at him as her hips shifted, her feet pressing into the bed as she pushed herself more firmly into the caress. His tongue slid out to urge her lips apart and thrust into her mouth even as his erection thrust into the center of her, and Averill gasped with pleasure at the exciting combination.

Shifting her hands to his head, Averill slid her fingers into his hair, nails scraping across his scalp and urging him on as she continued to arch into his thrusts, welcoming him with her body and heart until her pleasure peaked, and her body vibrated and clenched with her release.

Kade broke their kiss then, a shout slipping from his mouth as he threw his head back and thrust
into her one last time, his warm seed filling her. His head then dropped to hang down, his eyes closed almost in pain, their bodies still joined together at the hip until a small sigh slid from his lips, and he eased himself out and shifted to lie beside her.

Kade then pulled Averill onto his chest, careful of her neck as he did. Once he had her settled comfortably, he released a second sigh, this one a long gusty one of pleasure.

Averill lifted her eyes to peer at him curiously, her eyebrows rising at the wide smile on his face. “What has you smiling like that, husband?”

His smile turned to a grin, and he glanced down, and said with a shrug, “I finally got to tup me wife again.” When her eyebrows rose at the words, he pointed out, “It has been a long time since the wedding.”

“Aye,” Averill acknowledged softly as she realized that between all their troubles, this was the first time they had actually made love since the wedding. It would not be the last.

“I feel like I’m finally home,” Kade murmured with sleepy satisfaction.