The Hellion and the Highlander (14 page)

“What are ye doin’?” Kade called from the bed, sounding rather suspicious. “Come to bed.”

“I will. Just one moment,” she said with exasperation as she closed the ointment with her ungreased hand and dropped the bag on top of the
chest. Keeping her hand behind her, she then returned to the bed.

Kade eyed Averill suspiciously as she crossed back to him. There was a look in her eyes that suggested she did indeed have a surprise, one he wasn’t sure he would enjoy. He watched narrowly as she climbed onto the bed, then noted that she was keeping one hand behind her back.

“What ha’e ye got there?” Kade asked, then instinctively grabbed for the linens and furs he’d pulled up to cover himself with when she suddenly dragged them down. He wasn’t quick enough, and found himself lying there, bare from the knees up, his erection waving forward and back as if greeting her. Kade was on the verge of demanding to know what she was about when Averill suddenly brought her hand back around and clasped his waving penis.

Kade snapped his mouth shut and sucked air in through his gritted teeth as he stared at her wide-eyed.

“Old Ellie told me how to please a man as you pleased me this afternoon,” she explained, beginning to move her hand.

“Old Ellie?” he asked, horrified to hear that his voice had come out several octaves higher than his usual baritone.

“A maid at Mortagne. She’s very old and very wise, and she said to grease my hand up and
pump you like I am milking a cow,” Averill explained cheerfully and as he sagged back onto the bed, eyes closing with dismay she proceeded to do just that, closing her finger and thumb just under the head of his penis, then closing each succeeding finger around it, one after another, as if urging milk out of a cow’s teat.

Unfortunately, she had it the wrong way around. Were his manhood an udder, she would be forcing the milk back up inside him rather than out. However, he wasn’t a cow, what she was holding wasn’t an udder, and what she was doing wasn’t likely to bring anything squirting out of him. In fact, Kade could feel his erection dwindling away as she continued to work at him…then he couldn’t feel anything at all.

Frowning, he opened his eyes and lifted his head to peer down. His manhood was there, hanging sadly over the top of her hand like an empty drinking skin, but he couldn’t feel it. His eyes were just widening with the horror that she had somehow unmanned him, when Averill stopped what she was doing, released him, and frowned down at her hand.

“How odd, my hand seems to have gone numb,” she said with bewilderment.

Kade felt hope stir within his heart and cleared his throat before asking in even tones, “What is it ye used to grease yer hand?”

She turned to him with surprise. “Just an ointment from my medicinals.”

“Is it one to numb pain?” he asked carefully, then frowned with worry when Averill shook her head.

“Nay. This one is just to—” She paused suddenly and raised her hand to her face to give it a sniff.

Kade narrowed his eyes and waited.

“Oh d-dear,” Averill breathed, eyes widening.

“Oh dear what?” he asked, biting his tongue to keep from shouting the question. Dear God, one did not sniff the ointment she had just greased her husband’s pole with, then say “Oh dear” like that.

“I f-fear I m-may have g-got the ointments m-mixed up,” she admitted, looking forlorn. “
’Tis
one to numb pain. ’Twill not harm you, but—”

Sighing with exasperation, Kade brought her explanation to a halt by catching her arm and dragging her down to lie half on top of him.

“’Tis all right,” Kade muttered.

“B-but I w-wanted to p-please you,” Averill cried, trying to rise back up.

“’Tis all right,” Kade repeated, unsure whether to weep with relief that she hadn’t permanently unmanned him or howl with frustration that the third attempt to tumble his wife since their wedding night had gone awry. At least, he’d intended to tumble her when he’d entered. Sighing, he rubbed her back soothingly, and said, “Ye do please me, wife…Verra much.”

“Truly?” she asked on a sniffle.

“Aye,” he growled, and glanced down, catch
ing her dashing a tear away from her cheek. Kade sighed at her upset. The woman was trying, ’twas just a shame she had been given poor advice…well, and that she’d got her ointments mixed up in the dark corner, Kade thought with a grimace as he glanced down at his poor, numb manhood. The sad thing was lying flopped on his leg as if in a swoon, and he wondered unhappily how long that would last.

“Thank you, husband,” Averill murmured. “You please me, too.”

“Good,” he muttered, then cleared his throat and asked, “Wife? How long do the effects o’ this ointment last?”

Averill was silent for a moment, a small frown gracing her lips as she thought, then said, “I believe it lasts for a couple of hours.”

“Oh.” Kade sighed again, miserably this time. He’d been looking forward to bedding his wife again after their long journey, but it looked as if he was going to have to wait another night.

“I am sorry, husband,” she said miserably. “I just wanted to please you as you did me.”

“And ye do,” he assured her once again, hugging her closer. And it was true, Kade realized as he continued to rub her back soothingly until she drifted off to sleep. Despite everything, he was very pleased with his wife. She was clever, sweet, passionate, and, in his eyes, quite lovely. She was also willing to try things she didn’t have a clue how to
do. That spoke well for the future. He could see them being very happy together once everything was settled…if he could just stop her from getting advice on the marriage bed from the maids, he thought dryly.

“My lady!” That whispered hiss gave Averill a start. She whirled guiltily away from the door she’d just eased closed to find Bess storming up the hall, a scowl on her face.

“Your husband ordered you not to get anywhere near his father and brothers without him. What are you thinking, going in there by yourself?”

Averill grabbed the woman’s arm to hurry her away from the door. Bess had continued to whisper, and she didn’t fear the low sound’s waking anyone in the rooms at that end of the hall, but she also didn’t want Kade to catch her there.

“I merely slipped in to each man’s room to leave a pitcher of ale for him,” she explained, keeping her voice low. “They will be dehydrated after being sick all night and will want a drink when they wake.”

“Ale dosed with that weed of yours,” Bess guessed grimly. When Averill grimaced, but didn’t deny it, she sighed, and said, “What if Brodie had woken up and attacked you again?”

“I did not get near enough he could have grabbed me,” Averill reassured her quickly. “And he didn’t wake up and try anything, so all is well. Now”—she straightened and urged Bess toward the stairs—“let us go below. Kade wishes to head out today in search of mead and food for the castle and will be displeased do I tarry.”

Bess peered at her narrowly as they started down the stairs into the great hall. “How did you manage to get three pitchers of ale up here without anyone noticing?”

“My husband is outside with Will, preparing our horses, and Laddie and the maids are in such a flutter cleaning the kitchens in preparation for the food and drink we hope to bring back, they hardly noticed my coming and going.” Kade had reassigned the boy to helping the maids because she was not going to be there today for him to guard, but Averill suspected he would be back at her side when they returned.

“And I was straightening your room,” Bess finished dryly and shook her head as they reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the great hall. “You’re proving to be a sneaky one, my lady.”

“Thank you, Bess,” Averill said cheerfully, and the maid shook her head again.

“Is there anything you want done while you are
gone?” Bess asked, as they stepped out onto the keep’s front stairs and peered down at the bailey filled with Mortagne soldiers milling about aimlessly.

“Aye,” Averill said grimly. “I would have the rushes and detritus cleared out of the great hall.”

“And how do you expect me to do that with no servants?” Bess asked dryly, and frowned as she noted the way Averill was eyeing the English soldiers. “Oh nay! Surely you don’t think they will listen to me and set their hand to cleaning?”

“They will if Will orders them to,” Averill responded, then, spotting her brother crossing the bailey toward the keep, started down the steps, calling his name.

“I cannot believe you have my men acting like ladies’ maids.”

Kade smiled with amusement at Will’s repeated complaint. He glanced to the man who rode on his left, then to his wife on the right when she gave an annoyed cluck.

“I do not have your men acting like ladies’ maids,” she said firmly, and pointed out, “Ladies’ maids do not remove nasty old rushes from a great hall.”

“Neither do soldiers,” Will shot back.

“Mayhap, but ’tis not as if they had anything else to do,” she pointed out with exasperation. “’Twill keep them busy and help pass the time.”

Kade shook his head and let them go at it. It was
obvious the pair were siblings. They had been bickering about Averill’s request that Will have the men help clean out the great hall since leaving Stewart. Although, “request” was not exactly the proper description, he supposed. His wife had made the request sweetly and, when Will had steadfastly refused, had then browbeat him just as sweetly into agreeing. Kade had been impressed with her perseverance. She could be a stubborn lass when she got the bit between her teeth.

“This is all beside the point anyway, Will,” Averill said now. “You agreed. The men are helping, and I appreciate it very much. ’Tis no sense carping about it now.”

“Aye,” Will agreed morosely. “And ’twill be all your fault do they never speak to me again. They were less than pleased at the order.”

Averill shrugged, unconcerned. “They will get over it. There are many things in life that one would rather not do, but must…Which reminds me,” she added, turning a small frown to Kade, “are you sure we should go to Donnachaidh for supplies? Surely we have other neighbors we could approach?”

“Aye,” he acknowledged.

“Then might it not be better to go to one of them?” she asked hopefully.

“Why do ye so dislike the idea o’ going to Donnachaidh fer it?” Kade asked patiently.

“Because he is a devil,” Averill said at once.

“Ha’e ye met him?” he asked curiously.

“Nay,” she admitted.

“Then how can ye ken he’s a devil?” Kade asked, reasonably enough he thought.

“Because they call him the
Devil
of Donnachaidh, husband,” Averill said with exasperation, then added, “I doubt he was given the name for his kindness.”

“Nay, he wasna,” he acknowledged, then added, “he gained the name because he is fierce in battle.”

“Aye, but—”

“And,” Kade interrupted her, “we are going to him because Donnachaidh is no’ far to journey and his wife is sister to the husband of
my
sister. As such, of all our neighbors, he is the one most likely to give us the aid we need.”

“Oh,” Averill murmured, seeming soothed by this news. “I had not realized there was a family connection.”

Kade merely shrugged. He was a little annoyed at having to explain himself. He was not used to that and did not think he would like to make it a habit. However, they were newly married, and Averill was still getting to know him. Hopefully, in the future, she would trust his judgment and not question his decisions.

They crested the hill then and found themselves looking down on a forested valley that surrounded another hill. Crouching on top of it stood Donnachaidh castle. Kade eyed the intimidating edifice for a moment and turned in the saddle to peer back
and be sure the cart and the dozen soldiers they’d brought along to guard the hoped-for goods on their way back were keeping pace. Finding them virtually on their heels, he nodded his satisfaction and started down the hill.

Despite their English dress, they did not find the gates closed and drawbridge down when they reached Donnachaidh. Instead, they were greeted by a party of three men who rode down to meet them halfway up the hill. The lead man was a fellow named Tavis, a fair-haired, bonnie man whom Kade had run into before in battle. Fortunately, they had been on the same side as the Donnachaidh warriors for that excursion, and Kade knew this man to be the cousin of Cullen Duncan, or the Devil of Donnachaidh, as they called him.

The last time he’d met Tavis, the man had been full of smiles and had managed to charm his way under every skirt they’d encountered…which was a surprising number considering the circumstances. This time, however, he was quiet and almost stern. He also hardly looked at Averill, which seemed terribly out of character as Kade knew Tavis had a weakness for redheads. Wondering about the change in the man, he explained his presence and followed him up the hill into the bailey at a leisurely pace while the other two men rode ahead to warn the lord and lady of their arrival.

By the time they halted at the foot of the steps, Cullen Duncan and his wife, Evelinde, were start
ing down the stairs. Kade eyed the smiling, petite blonde briefly, but then turned his gaze to the taller, dark-haired man and offered a nod of greeting before swinging out of the saddle and moving to lift Averill off her mount. By the time he set her on the ground and turned, Will was at his side and the Devil of Donnachaidh and his wife were stepping off the stairs and moving toward them.

“Stewart,” Cullen greeted with a nod.

“Duncan,” Kade said, nodding back.

A moment passed, then Kade’s eye was drawn to the petite blonde as she poked an elbow into the man’s side.

“Me wife,” Cullen introduced with a grimace, hauling the woman up to his side with an arm around her waist.

Kade nodded at the woman and caught Averill’s hand and tugged her to his side to announce, “Me wife.” Nodding to Will, he added, “And her brother.”

The introduction was purely for Lady Duncan’s sake. Will had told him when he’d first mentioned coming here that he’d met Cullen Duncan at court some years ago and liked him.

“Oh, for pity’s sake, you shall be beating your chests next,” Evelinde muttered with exasperation, then smiled at Averill, and announced, “I am Evelinde.”

“You are English,” Averill said with surprise.

“Aye. As are you.”

They beamed at each other, then his wife recalled herself, and said, “I am Averill.”

“Good morn, Averill,” Evelinde said politely, and gestured to the man at her side. “This is my husband, Cullen.”

Averill turned to peer up at the man, bit her lip, then nodded, and said, “M-my l-lord.” She winced at her own stuttering, but then turned back to Evelinde and forged on saying, “Th-this is m-my br-rother W-will, and—”

She glanced up with surprise when Kade drew her around to face him. He then ducked his head and kissed her. He was quick, but thorough in the doing, gathering her close and thrusting his tongue into her mouth quickly a time or two before lifting his head and letting her go.

Averill stood before him, eyes closed and expression soft, until he murmured, “Wife.”

“Aye, husband?” she asked dreamily, eyes slowly opening.

“Finish the introductions.”

“Oh, aye,” she breathed, then, still peering up at him, said almost absently, “Evelinde, this is my husband, Kade.”

“I am glad to hear he is your husband,” Evelinde said, and he heard the amusement in her voice but didn’t care. He was nodding with satisfaction that his kiss had sufficiently distracted his wife that her stammering had subsided again. He had thought it might.

Bending, he gave her a kiss on the forehead, then turned her toward Evelinde. “Go visit with Lady Duncan while I speak to her husband.”

“Aye, husband,” Averill murmured, moving forward to join the other woman.

Smiling widely, Evelinde drew her arm through her own, and the two women put their heads together, chatting and laughing like old friends as they made their way up the keep stairs.

“I see you like yer wife well enough,” Cullen said with amusement, as they watched the door close on the two women.

Kade shrugged, and explained, “Kissing her stops her stammering.”

“I see,” Cullen said slowly, then, face solemn, suggested, “So ye kiss her for medicinal purposes.”

“Aye. Ye could say that.” He felt his lips twitch with amusement.

Will snorted at the claim, and the three men started laughing as they turned to walk across the bailey.

“Nay!”

“Aye. Numb as a dead hen,” Averill assured her hostess wryly, and while she could feel herself blushing, she was also grinning at her new friend’s horrified amusement over the tale of last night’s debacle.

“Oh dear!” Evelinde gasped. “And he was, too?”

“Aye,” she said on a forlorn sigh. “And he shriveled up like an old man in a cold bath.”

“Oh no!” Evelinde squealed, and burst out laughing.

Averill immediately joined in, seeing the humor of the situation now that it was a day past. She wasn’t sure how they had got onto the topic. They had started out talking about Cullen’s reputation as the Devil of Donnachaidh. Averill had curiously asked Evelinde what her reaction had been to learning she was to marry the man. After a hesitation, Evelinde had blushed and told her about her first meeting with the man, a rather risqué tale that had set Averill laughing, and she had suddenly found herself blurting out her own calamity last night.

She supposed it was surprising that they were revealing such intimate details of their married lives to each other so soon after meeting, but Averill had felt comfortable with Evelinde from the start, and after several hours of chatting over cider, felt as if they were old friends.

“What has the two o’ ye cackling like a pair o’ old witches?”

Averill and Evelinde stopped laughing abruptly at that question from Cullen Duncan, exchanged a wide-eyed glance, then turned those same wide, guilty eyes toward the men now approaching the trestle table where they sat.

“H-husband,” Averill gasped, leaping to her feet with alarm at the possibility that he might have overheard.

The curiosity on Kade’s face and the way he raised an eyebrow as he, Cullen, and Will crossed
the last of the distance to join them reassured her he hadn’t; but she still fluttered nervously where she stood.

“Well?” Cullen prompted as he paused behind Evelinde and bent to press a kiss to the petite blonde’s forehead. “What is it ye find so funny?”

Averill’s panicked gaze sought out Evelinde, but she needn’t have worried. Her new friend merely smiled sweetly, and said, “Oh, ’twas just a silly old wife’s tale.”

That answer made Averill eye her new friend with some respect. The woman had told the truth. It was a wife’s tale, hers, and yet the way Evelinde said it made it sound like something else entirely. The men immediately lost interest in hearing about it.

“Is something amiss?” Averill asked uncertainly, wondering why they were already returned.

“Nay,” Cullen assured her. “We merely came in for the nooning meal.”

“Oh!” It was Evelinde’s turn to jump up with alarm. “I did not—Oh,” she breathed with relief as the door to the kitchens opened and maids started out, food and drink in hand. “Bless Biddy. She, at least, is thinking.”

Averill smiled faintly, knowing her new friend was speaking of Cullen’s aunt Elizabeth, whom everyone called Biddy. She’d met the woman briefly after Evelinde had led her inside, but then Biddy had disappeared to the kitchens, and Evelinde had explained that Cullen’s aunt loved cooking and
spent a good deal of time in the kitchens doing it.

The maids reached the tables, and they all settled down to eat. The men were quick about it, then up and gone back to the business of bartering for and packing supplies. Averill and Evelinde got up to take a walk around the gardens behind the kitchens but were back sitting at the tables talking away when the men returned the second time.