Read The Hellion and the Highlander Online
Authors: Lynsay Sands
“Avy?” He used the nickname Will had always called her and gave her a little shake, drawing her attention back to him. “Will ye have me?”
“Aye, but—” Her attempt to tell him her final flaw,
that she had a temper, was halted when he kissed her again. Averill tried to keep her wits about her so that she could gasp out the confession the first chance she got, but it was most difficult to think with the upheaval he was causing in her. His tongue was dueling with hers again, and somehow her chemise had got pushed off her shoulders to pool around her waist, leaving her bare from the waist up. His hands were taking full advantage and now covered both her breasts, squeezing and kneading, tugging and pinching so that she moaned and wiggled in his lap. The action made her aware of a strange hardness under her bottom, and she wondered briefly what it was before Kade suddenly broke their kiss to lower his head to her breast again.
“I have a temper,” Averill breathed almost dreamily in the brief moment before his mouth latched onto her breast.
“Aye,” he growled against her flesh. “I like that, too.” Then his tongue slid out to rasp her nipple, and she let the matter go. She didn’t really believe he liked her temper, but it mattered little since she always controlled it anyway. She would just have to be sure she did not drink again as her father had made her that morning.
Satisfied that she had confessed all her flaws and that Kade could not now be surprised or disappointed, Averill slid her fingers into his hair and leaned her head back with a moan as he suckled and nipped at first one breast, then the other. She was aware that he had shifted one hand to her
back, keeping her from overbalancing, but it was his mouth and his other hand that had her real attention. Kade’s mouth was driving her wild as he feasted on her, and his hand was sending little shivers through her as it slid up and down her leg over the chemise, moving closer and closer to the apex of her thighs each time.
Stomach muscles jumping with excitement, Averill instinctively allowed her legs to spread on his lap. When his fingers then reached high enough that they brushed against the very core of her through the gossamer cloth, she groaned and clasped at his head almost desperately as her back arched, hips shifting on his lap.
“Oh, Kade,” she breathed, legs closing around his hand, only to open again in the next heartbeat. But when his fingers brushed against her again, more firmly this time, the sensations it caused were overwhelming and even frightening. Panting, Averill closed her legs once more and gasped, “I cannot—”
“Aye. Ye can,” he assured her, letting her nipple slip from his mouth to claim her lips even as his fingers drifted away.
Averill felt a moment’s regret, but then his hand slid under her chemise, skimming up her bare skin until it reached her core. This time there was nothing in the way as his fingers brushed over the core of her.
He broke their kiss to whisper, “Yer wet fer me.”
“I am sorry,” Averill gasped with embarrassment
as she became aware of the dampness he spoke of, and for some reason that made him chuckle.
“’Tis good,” he growled, then claimed her lips once more.
This kiss was different than the others. While those had been gentle and questing, this one was hard and demanding. His tongue thrust into her mouth like a sword, filling her and forcing out any embarrassment at the moisture gathering between her legs. His fingers continued to play over her, more firmly now, and when she groaned this time, his mouth caught it, muffling the vibration between them.
Averill moved her hands to his shoulder, unconsciously digging in with her nails. She began to kiss him back fervently, with more passion than technique as her hips shifted instinctively into the caress. She was vaguely aware that the hardness under her bottom had somehow grown larger and more firm, and when Kade groaned into her mouth, Averill worried that her shifting against it was digging whatever it was into his lap and hurting him, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. With every caress of his fingers, her body arched and writhed as if moving to music only it could hear.
She was just becoming aware of something easing into her, and stiffening at the alien sensation, when a knock sounded at the door.
Kade stilled, and they both seemed to hold their breath, then the knock sounded again.
Sighing, he broke their kiss and leaned his forehead against hers, breathing, “I’m goin’ to kill yer brother.”
“Will?” she asked in a whisper. “Why?”
Kade merely sighed again, shook his head, and urged her to stand up as the knock sounded a third time.
When he got to his feet and moved toward the door, she caught at his hand to stop him. “You cannot answer the door while I am here. Wait until I—”
Kade silenced her with a quick kiss. When he raised his head, he said dryly, “’Twill be Will, and do I not answer, he’ll just keep knockin’. I’ll send him away.”
He moved off before she could protest further, but afraid Bess had realized she’d come to see Kade after all and was coming to try to trap him into marrying her, Averill didn’t take the time to argue with him. She snatched the candle off the mantel and scampered for the door into the tunnels.
She raced the length to her room, the candlelight briefly illuminating an old rag doll she’d thought she’d lost as a child. It was obviously the soft thing she’d stepped on earlier, and while Averill felt a moment’s relief at the knowledge, she didn’t take the time to slow down and grab the dear item. She was in too much of a panic to get to her room and close the tunnel door.
“Go away,” Kade growled when he saw Will standing in the hall. He started to close the door, but Will put his foot out to stop him.
“I just wanted to know—Oh. Were you sleeping?” he asked, surprise replacing the determination on his face as he peered into the room beyond him.
Kade glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows rising when he saw that the room was in darkness. Averill had taken the one lit candle in his room and fled.
“How did she manage that?” he muttered. The light in the room had been wavering but still there as he’d reached for the door handle. The only thing he could think was that she must have closed the tunnel door just as he opened this one.
“Ah-ha!” Will said, drawing his head back around. “So she
was
still here.”
“Aye.” He scowled at his friend. “And ye interrupted a verra important talk we were havin’.”
“Oh?” He arched an eyebrow, looking amused rather than apologetic. Snatching the torch from the sconce beside the door in the hall, he pushed past him into the room. “Tell me all about it.”
Kade shifted on his feet, considering tossing his friend out on his rear and going in search of Averill, but then decided this might be for the best. The way things had been going, they were like to anticipate their wedding night were he to be alone with her again.
“Here, put this back.”
Kade took the torch Will had used to light an
other candle and leaned out into the hall to replace it in its sconce. He then pulled the door closed and followed Will to the chairs by the fire. When the other man settled in the very chair he and Averill had been occupying just moments ago, Kade was recalled to what his arrival had interrupted. It made him scowl irritably at his friend as he settled in the opposite seat.
“So?” Will prompted when he didn’t speak up at once. “What happened?”
Sighing, Kade relaxed back in his chair and shrugged. “She came to warn me o’ her faults.”
“Which ones?” Will asked curiously.
“Her hair, her birthmark, her stammering, her bosoms, and her temper,” he muttered.
“I have told Averill her hair is not all
that
ugly,” Will said with a frown, and Kade rolled his eyes. He was not exactly flowery with words, but even he didn’t count “not all that ugly” as reassuring. ’Twas no wonder the girl had no confidence.
“And her birthmark is not—Just a minute, did you say bosoms?” he interrupted himself, as his brain absorbed what had been said.
Kade nodded, amusement plucking at his lips as he noted Will’s horror. His tone was dry, however, when he explained, “It seems Lord Seawell thought them too small.”
“Oh, for God’s—” Will paused, took a breath, and shook his head. “The fool. I have never really noticed, but I am sure Averill’s breasts are perfectly fine.”
“Aye, they are,” Kade assured him, a smile claiming his lips as he recalled the look and feel of them he’d enjoyed just moments ago. Lord Seawell might have a preference for melon-sized breasts, but Kade preferred apples, and Averill’s were perfect.
“How the devil would you know?” Will snapped.
Kade grimaced at his outrage and reminded himself that this was Averill’s brother. Unwilling to tell him that she had pressed his hand to her breast, or that he’d then done much more, he just shrugged. “I have eyes.”
“Hmm.” Will scowled at him, then sighed, and said, “I hope you reassured her.”
“Aye,” Kade said simply.
“What did you say?” he asked curiously.
“I told her I like her hair and…everything,” he finished lamely.
“Hmmm.” Will sat back in his seat to consider that, and asked, “Is she going to marry you?”
“Aye.” Kade scowled at the very suggestion that she might not. Now that he’d had a taste of her passion, he wanted more. If the woman refused to marry him, he’d just have to do a little creeping through the tunnels of his own, remind her of the passion they shared, and ensure he was caught doing so. She’d
have
to marry him then. Kade was an honorable man, and wouldn’t force her to do anything she didn’t want to do…except marry him. She’d be happier with him than any of the
English oafs her father kept dragging in to see her anyway, he assured himself.
“Did you tell her you can see now?” Will asked suddenly.
Kade nodded solemnly.
“Was she angry?”
“Nay. At least she didna seem to be,” he said, but frowned as he considered that she’d been a bit distracted at the time. He hoped she wouldn’t be angry once her brain was no longer fogged with passion.
“Good. Then I shall take myself off to bed.”
Kade nodded, but remained where he was as the other man stood and moved to the door. He was vaguely aware of Will’s leaving, but his thoughts were now on Averill and what he might expect from her on the morrow.
Would she be angry about the trick they’d played on her about his being able to see? Would she still protest their marriage? Would he be able to keep his hands off her? The only question he could answer with any certainty was the last. He was definitely going to have trouble keeping his hands off her. The woman had been molten fire in his hands, gasping, panting, moaning, and writhing under his touch even as she dug her nails into him in a silent demand for more. Kade was already having to fight a desire to slip from his room to hers and awaken her passion again. Part of him was arguing that they were going to marry anyway, so
there would be no harm in doing so, but another part was reminding him that she was the sister of his friend, as well as the daughter of the man who had taken him in and given him a place to mend from his injury. He couldn’t repay such a kindness by deflowering Averill under their own roof before they were married.
He would just have to insist they marry soon, Kade thought. Say in a week even. He should be able to control himself and resist Averill for a week…Probably…He hoped.
Perhaps he’d best just avoid her until the wedding day, Kade decided.
“Here we are, lovey. Time to wake up and greet the morning. ’Tis your wedding day.”
Averill groaned at that cheerful chirping from Bess. She rolled over in bed and pulled the furs up to block out the sudden glare of sunlight in the room as the woman opened her shutters.
“What’s all this?” The maid’s voice drew nearer, then the furs were tugged away, leaving Averill blinking owlishly in her bed in nothing but her chemise. “You should be eager and happy, not a layabout on this day of all days.”
“I did not sleep well last night,” Averill muttered unhappily, but gave in and sat up. Her gaze immediately fell on a pair of maids pouring pails of water into a tub.
“Ah. Too excited to sleep, were you?” Bess asked with a grin.
Averill scowled in response. “Too worried, more like.”
Bess’s eyebrows flew upward, then understanding creased her face. “Aye, well. I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. Lord Stewart strikes me as a man who knows his way around a bedchamber. I’m sure ’twill all go well enough.”
Averill raised stricken eyes to the woman. That was the one worry she hadn’t considered during her fretting last night. She’d been more concerned about the way Kade had been acting since that night in his room. After an extremely restless night reliving every moment in his arms, Averill had left her room the next morning to find Kade pacing the hall. He’d grunted a good morning when he saw her and asked if she was willing to go through with the marriage. When she’d shyly stammered, “A-aye,” he’d grunted again, then took her arm and led her below. He’d deposited her at the table without another word, then had led her father away to discuss the marital contracts…and that had been the last she’d seen of him since.
Averill had learned from her father afterward that Kade had wished to have the wedding within the week, but he’d insisted on waiting at least two. Kade had apparently argued the point, but in the end had given in. He’d also agreed to everything her father wanted in the contract, then had taken himself out to the lists without even stopping to
break his fast…and the man had been there ever since.
Oh, Averill supposed he must come in to sleep at night, but—if so—it must be very late, for she hadn’t seen him within the keep walls since that day. In fact, neither Kade nor Will had turned up in the castle since then, not even for the meals. Averill had been sufficiently worried that she’d slipped down to the lists the first night to find out what that was about. What she’d found was that the men were taking their meals at the lists, the two of them barely stopping to gulp down the food before taking up their swords and hacking away at each other once more.
Averill had clucked and fussed and shaken her head, but she’d also found it very hard to drag herself away and back to the castle that first evening. She’d been unable to keep from haunting the lists since. She told herself it was just concern for her patient but knew that to be a lie, or she wouldn’t have been taking such care not to be seen watching the men at practice. And the admiration she’d experienced as she noted the slow return of muscle and weight to Kade was far from that of someone caring for a patient. The truth was she was sneaking about, watching him with cow eyes like a callow youth with a tendre…and considering they were to be married, that just seemed ridiculous. In truth, the whole situation did.
It was not that she’d expected him to court her with pretty words and flowers, but she was taken
aback by his complete avoidance of her. Averill had never been one to sit about daydreaming about wedding and having children, but had she imagined it, she would have expected there to be a little more interaction between a betrothed couple…and she was now worrying whether this was how the entirety of her married life would go—she in the keep and her husband in the bailey and never the two would meet…except in the marriage bed at night.
“Come now,” Bess said suddenly, catching her arm to urge her out of bed. “You’re sitting there looking like you carry the weight of the world on your shoulders. The bedding is not as bad as all that, and is over quickly.”
“How quickly?” Averill asked with a frown as she allowed the woman to lead her to the tub, which two maids were filling with pails of steaming water.
“Well now, that depends on the man,” Bess muttered.
Averill considered her words, and asked, “What exactly happens?”
The sudden stillness in the room was rather alarming. Bess had turned to stone, but so had the women working over her bath. Each of them exchanged glances with the others that seemed to exclude her.
Bess was the first to move. Letting her breath out on a whoosh, she moved to begin helping Averill out of her chemise, and muttered, “Don’t you
worry. He’ll know what he’s about and take care of everything.”
“Oh, Bess.” Old Ellie, the eldest of the maids filling her tub, scowled at the lady’s maid. She then shook her head, tipped up the pail she held to dump the rest of its contents in the tub, and snapped, “You can’t be leaving the girl completely ignorant.”
“’Tis not my place to—” Bess began, but fell silent when Ellie dropped the bucket and straightened to glare at her, hands on hips.
“Well whose place is it then?” the old woman asked. “Her poor mother’s dead, God rest her soul, and her father won’t be explaining anything.”
Averill could feel Bess’s sigh ruffle the hair on the back of her head and glanced around to see her unhappy expression. Feeling sorry for causing her this discomfort, she cleared her throat, and murmured, “’Tis all right, Bess. I am sure you are right. ’Twill be fine.”
“Nay, I’d best tell you,” Bess said unhappily. “It might ease your mind to know what to expect.”
“That or scare you silly,” Sally, the younger of the two maids working at filling her bath, commented dryly as she emptied her own pail into the tub. She received a stern glare from Old Ellie for her trouble and rolled her eyes. “Well, it will no doubt sound awful in words,” she pointed out, and then glanced to Averill, and added, “’Tis much nicer in the doing, my lady.”
Recalling the night two weeks ago in Kade’s
room, Averill had no doubt that was true. It certainly had seemed nice to her, and she wouldn’t have minded repeating the exercise in the weeks since. However, Kade apparently hadn’t felt the same way.
Frowning over that thought, she asked, “Do all men like it?”
This brought a sudden round of laughter from the women.
“Oh, aye,” Old Ellie told her dryly. “As a rule, there’s nothing they like better.”
“As a rule?” she asked. “Then some do not like it?”
This brought another exchange of glances and a few grimaces, then Old Ellie said, “There are one or two who seem to lack an interest, my lady. But they are a rare breed indeed.”
Averill was frowning over this when Sally suddenly said, “They are rare, but I met one once. I couldn’t get a rise out of him no matter what I tried and didn’t know why till I saw the size of his…er…sword.”
“Sword?” Averill asked uncertainly. “Do you mean his—”
“She means his piffle,” Old Ellie interrupted, and then snatched up a linen that lay on one of the chests nearby and dangled it before her skirt so Averill could not misunderstand.
Sally snorted. “Aye. Only his was more like this.” She picked up the bit of cloth Bess had brought up for Averill to use to wash herself, folded it four times and then rolled it up so it was no bigger than
her little finger and dangled that before her legs…except it did not dangle.
The maid shook her head sadly. “’Twas a shame that. A great, strapping fellow with the tiniest wee sword you ever did see. I think ’twas what put him off it. He was anxious about his lack in that area.”
“Foolish man,” Old Ellie said with disgust. “’Tis not the size that counts but what they do with it.”
“I don’t know about that,” Sally argued. “’Twas a wee thing.”
“Aye, and a knife is wee next to a sword, but can cut just as well,” Ellie said dryly. “Sometimes better.”
Averill was just pondering whether Kade might have been avoiding her because his own piffle was undersized, when Bess muttered, “Aye, well none of this is telling her what to expect tonight.”
Her maid straightened her shoulders like a soldier heading off to battle, and said, “When they decide ’tis time for the bedding, we women will bring you above stairs, strip you, bathe you, and put you in the bed. The men will then bring Lord Stewart up. They’ll strip him and put him in the bed as well, and no doubt take a good gander at you as they do, so prepare yourself for it.”
“They will put him in the bed without the bathing part?” Averill asked curiously, and wondered why when Bess nodded. She didn’t get to ask, however, as the woman was already rushing on, apparently eager to get the discussion over with.
“We will all leave, then he will…” She paused,
licked her lips nervously, then cleared her throat and forged onward. “He’ll then probably kiss you, and…er…”
“Oh, good Lord,” Old Ellie muttered when Bess couldn’t seem to force herself to continue. “’Tis easy to tell you had no daughters to tell this to, Bessie.”
Bess flushed, then snapped, “Aye, well you’ve had enough of them. Why don’t you explain it to her since you’re so smart?”
Old Ellie harrumphed, but turned to Averill, and announced, “He’ll kiss you, squeeze ye here and there, then ride his horse into your stable.”
“Ride his horse…?” Averill echoed uncertainly.
“His sword,” Sally said helpfully.
“Oh,” Averill muttered, then, as she understood what her stable must be, “Oh!”
“Aye.” The women said as one, and apparently satisfied that they’d explained it, Bess returned to dragging the chemise up and over her head and the others turned back to filling the tub.
Averill scowled with dissatisfaction. The women really hadn’t been very helpful at all. Good Lord, she’d known the basics of what was coming. You couldn’t live in a castle with so many people all crowded together, a good portion of them procreating in any handy dark corner in the evenings, not to mention procreating and sleeping on the great-hall floor at night, without learning at least that much. Her ignorance lay in other areas.
“Does it hurt?”
The women all stopped and turned to her again, but were suddenly reluctant to talk, it seemed, for a full moment passed before Bess asked a bit irritably, “Where did you hear that?”
“I overheard a couple of maids talking about how it hurt,” she admitted.
Bess nodded grimly, but admitted, “It will hurt the first time, my lady. He has to breach the maiden’s veil, and ’twill hurt and bleed a bit. But it should be fine after that.”
“So long as he isn’t one of those who likes it rough,” Sally muttered with displeasure.
“Lord Stewart doesn’t strike me as one who likes it rough,” Old Ellie said solemnly. “But that Seawell fellow…now, he had a cruel streak. ’Tis glad I am it’s not him you’re marrying, my lady.”
All the maids mumbled their agreement as they turned back to their work.
Averill tended to agree with them. The man had shown a disturbing enjoyment of insulting her, and his hand when he’d grabbed her breast had been pinching, not soft and seeking like Kade’s later was. Thoughts of that night reminded her of something else she wanted to know, and as Bess tested the water, nodded at the temperature, then urged her to step in, Averill asked, “Are your breasts supposed to tingle when he touches them?”
The dead silence then lasted so long that Averill couldn’t resist glancing up once she was settled in the water. All of them, even Old Ellie, looked
discomfited, and they were all staring at her with wide eyes. However, when she glanced at them, they all turned to Bess, silently handing this one off to her.
“How do you know about that?” Bess’s voice was almost strangled.
“I overheard one of the maids talking,” she lied in a mutter, ducking her head.
They all sighed, relaxing at the same moment.
“Aye, well,” Bess said at last. “I suppose if he does it right, and if you like it, they may tingle.”
“Oh Bess, you poor thing,” Sally said sadly. “Have you truly never had the tingling?”
Bess flushed and turned away to begin folding Averill’s discarded chemise, obviously unwilling to respond.
Averill bit her lip, feeling guilty that she’d caused the woman such discomfort. Bess had been married when she was younger to a man she often spoke of fondly and claimed had been fine and good. Obviously, his fine and good had not stretched to the bedroom. It had taken little more than a kiss and caress from Kade to make her tingle. Hoping to distract them from Bess and ease her discomfort, she cleared her throat and asked her next question. “What about the…er…the wet?”
“The wet?” they asked as one.
Averill flushed and grimaced, but really wanted to be sure it was normal. Kade had commented on it, after all. Clearing her throat again, she concen
trated on dunking the small bit of linen Sally had used to make the imaginary piffle in the water, and said, “Between the legs. Is it normal to get wet there?”
“That—You—How could you—?”
“She overheard the maids talking,” Sally answered for her, but there was a twinkle in her eye that suggested she, at least, was no longer fooled that that was the case.
“Oh, of course,” Bess muttered. She was silent for a moment, but then paused and looked to Ellie for help.
The old woman rolled her eyes, but said, “’Tis natural. It greases the way for the sword to slide in your sheath.”
It seemed horses and stables wouldn’t do for this explanation, Averill thought wryly, but merely nodded. So long as it was normal, she was happy. She’d worried it was unnatural or something. Now that she knew it wasn’t, she relaxed a bit, and asked, “How do I please him?”
Old Ellie had picked up her empty buckets, preparing to leave the room, but dropped them abruptly at the question and whirled back. Sally had only just bent to gather her own buckets, but paused, her shoulders shaking with what Averill suspected was silent mirth at her questions. Bess, however, was looking absolutely horrified.
“Please him?” her maid asked weakly.
“Aye, well, you said he would kiss and caress me.
What am I to do to please him in return?” It did seem an important question for her to ask. Kade had made her gasp and moan with pleasure in his arms, and all she had done was hold on for dear life and writhe under his caresses. She wished to be a good wife and would like to please him as much as he pleased her.