The Hellion and the Highlander by Lynsay Sands
Averill let the bit of bread she'd picked up drop back to the table. She had no idea if all redheads had tempers as superstition claimed, but certainly she and her mother had. However, Averill's mother, Margaret, had had it pounded into her from the cradle never to let that temper reign, and she had managed to keep a stern leash on it all the days of her life. Even her husband, Averill's father, was ignorant of Lady Margaret's temper. Lady Mortagne had also remonstrated with Averill from a very young age that she must do the same...and she had. Like her mother, Averill was always in control of her temper. Even when the last suitor had sneered to her face that he would never marry a redheaded she-devil with the mark of Satan on her face and lacking the brains God gave most, Averill had controlled her temper. She had not spat in his face and run her claws down his cheek as she'd wished. She'd bit her tongue, literally, smiled sweetly, and went straight up to her room. There, she'd forced herself to lie down and stare at the ceiling until the desire to howl and throw things had passed, and she'd regained control of herself.
However, alcohol could very well steal that control from her and reveal to one and all that she did indeed have the temper redheads were reputed to have, and that while she behaved as she should and presented a sweet disposition to the world, she often wanted to kick people in the shins and run away...at least for a while.
Averill grimaced as the thought made her recall the one time she'd lost her temper--the day she'd kicked the captain of the guard in the shin because he wouldn't take her to her brother, then had quite literally run away. That was the one time her temper had been displayed. It was then her mother had started her campaign to make Averill control her temper.
She bit her lip and glanced toward the stairs to the upper hall, suddenly wondering just how much of that tale Kade had been awake to hear. She'd thought him sleeping or never would have told it, but then he'd asked his question...At the time she'd been so startled and happy to know he had come out of his unnatural sleep that she hadn't even considered that he had heard the tale of her youthful temper tantrum. She fretted over it briefly but then pushed the worry away. All at Mortagne knew about that incident and thought nothing of it. Only her mother had recognized it as a show of the terrible temper her daughter carried, and she had promptly set out to be sure Averill gained and kept control of it.
Her gaze flickered as Will appeared at the top of the stairs. Distracted from her worries about her father's plan, Averill noted the three Scots behind him. As the men began to descend the stairs, she felt a smile curve her lips. Morning meal forgotten, she stood and moved toward the stairs. Now she could go look in on Kade.
"Close your eyes."
Kade scowled at the old woman, Mabs, and waved her away impatiently. "I am fine. Let me be."
"Your head aches, doesn't it? This will help," she snapped, pushing his hands away.
She performed the action as easily as if I were a babe, Kade thought bitterly, and considering how weak he was, it was an apt description. While he was a little stronger this morning and could at least lift his hands, he was still weak enough that he couldn't even fend off an old woman. That was a bitter brew to swallow for a warrior like him, he acknowledged, as she leaned forward with a cold, damp cloth in hand.
Kade scowled, but he closed his eyes just seconds before she laid the cloth over them. The harsh sunlight spilling through his open shutters was immediately blocked out, and he sighed with relief as the cool damp soaked into the skin around his eyes, soothing away some of the aching that had come on while he'd been talking with his men and Will.
"Feels better, doesn't it?" the old crow challenged.
When Kade merely grunted, she chuckled her amusement, the sound the closest to a cackle that he'd ever heard. It made him wish once again that Averill was there.
When he'd awakened at the crack of dawn, Kade had been less than pleased to find the old harpy at his bedside instead of Will's sister. Where Averill's voice had been sweet and soothing, this woman's was testy and sharp, and her care had been a bit less than gentle so far. She'd handled him like a side of beef as she'd gone about washing him and rolling him about to change the bedding. The whole experience had been unpleasant and humiliating for a man used to fending for himself, and he was quite sure that had Averill been here to tend to those tasks, it would have been a different ordeal entirely.
Even worse, after all that, all the old woman would allow him to consume was broth and mead. Kade wanted solid food. He wanted to start rebuilding his strength. However, when he'd said as much, she'd merely announced that Lady Averill had ordered that he wasn't yet allowed solid food. Apparently, the maid was loyal to Averill and her orders. Certainly, none of his griping or demands had moved her to go against them.
The sound of the door opening caught his ear, and Kade almost held his breath as he waited to hear who it was. A small smile of relief almost graced his lips when he smelled spice and flowers and heard Averill's soft voice greeting Mabs. The soft patter of her footsteps followed.
"Oh, dear," she exclaimed, sounding as if she were right next to the bed. "Why the cold compress? Are his eyes still bothering him, Mabs?"
"Nay," Kade said at once, but the soft growl was drowned out by Mabs's voice as she said, "Aye. After being closed so long, they are not yet adjusted to the light. Keep the cold compress on him as long as you can today. 'Twill help speed his healing."
Kade scowled as he heard Averill's murmured agreement, then listened as the women moved off toward the door. They were talking softly, but after a moment they fell silent, and there was the sound of the door opening and closing.
"Well." Averill's voice flowed over him as soft and sweet as he remembered. There was a quiet rustle as she seated herself, and Kade smiled and inhaled the scent that drifted to him on the air. And then she asked, "Are you feeling better this morning?"
Kade lifted his hand, intending to remove the cloth covering his eyes so that he could see her, but she caught it and urged the hand back down to the bed.
"Best just to leave the compress for now. It may help your eyesight return more quickly," she said. As soft as the words were, there was steel beneath them, and her grip on his hand was firm before she released it. She then patted it, and added, cheerfully, "Besides, there's nothing worth seeing here anyway, just a bed, a chair, the fireplace, and some sunlight."
"There's you," Kade said quietly, and it brought a soft laugh that had a wry edge to it.
"Believe me, I am hardly worth risking a headache to see," she assured him.
Kade frowned at her words, recalling waking to her lamenting over her father's efforts to marry her off and the cruel insults of the men he'd chosen. It made him more curious than ever to see her, but he left the compress on for now, biding his time. Strength and skill with a sword were not the only reasons he had been a renowned warrior before being captured and imprisoned. Intelligence was an important factor and, despite his illness, he still had that. Kade knew when to bide his time and await his moment, and this was one of them. He didn't wish to make Will's sister uncomfortable or upset her, so he would await his chance, Kade decided, and turned his attention to her, as she asked, "Are any of your men riding out with messages for your family?"
When he hesitated, she added, "Will told me that your mother passed on before the Crusades, but that you have a sister, two brothers, and a father still. He didn't wish to write and give them false hope until we were positive you would recover, but I am sure they must be very anxious to hear news of you."
Kade's mouth tightened slightly at the suggestion. He doubted his father and brothers had been sober enough even to wonder about him the last three years, but his little sister was another matter entirely. Merry would be fretting over him.
"I sent all three men," he admitted, then explained, "I had more than the one task for them to perform."
"Ah," she said, and proved her understanding of the male mind by asking curiously, "Did they fuss about leaving you here alone?"
Kade
"And he trusts you," Averill said softly.
Kade nodded silently, not doubting it for a minute. They'd had to learn to trust each other while enslaved. It was how they'd survived, by watching each other's backs. He, his men, and Will hadn't been the only prisoners in their jail. There had been others, former residents of towns and cities that Baibar had razed. Most of the populations were killed, he'd been told, but some had been kept to perform manual labor for their new "masters," men who had fed them little but dribbles of gruel and rotten vegetables, and had worked them quite literally to death under the hot desert sun.
Wanting them weak and malleable, the food had never been enough for everyone, and men had been killed by their own prison mates for little more than a crust of bread or a mouthful of swill. But the number who died at the desperate hands of one of their own was nothing next to those who were beaten and worked to death. Kade had quickly stopped counting the men who had died under the baking sun.
"Will said the escape was your plan."
He smiled wryly but didn't tell her that the plan had come to him quite suddenly, and his only regret was that it hadn't come to him before that. Had he come up with it sooner, more of his men would yet be alive.
"Will said you threw the keys to him and ordered him to let the other men out, then took on both guards yourself with the stolen sword while he did," Averill continued quietly. "That was brave."
"That was desperation," he countered dryly, and admitted, "After our time in prison, I was in no shape to fight two on me own."
"And yet you did," Averill said simply.
Kade shrugged where he lay, his ego not allowing him to explain that it was sheer good fortune that had helped him in this instance. Before he'd been captured and starved for three years, he would have taken on three men or more without a thought or worry...and been the victor, but he knew it was only the fickle hand of fate that had seen him through their escape alive. Had Will not managed to free the others from their cells as quickly as he had to help him in the battle, they would no doubt all be dead right now.
A yawn suddenly claimed Kade, stretching his mouth almost painfully wide, and he raised a hand to cover the wide maw, bumping the cold compress upward as he did. When the yawn ended, he let his hand drop back to the bed without straightening the cloth and murmured an apology for his rudeness.
"Rest," Averill said, standing and leaning forward to straighten the compress for him. He caught a quick glimpse of her face as she did, then the compress was back in place, and she murmured, "Sleep is the best medicine for you right now. We can talk more later...or perhaps I can read to you to help you pass the time."
Kade didn't say anything as he listened to her settle back in her seat. His mind was too full of confusion at the moment. He had woken this morning to find his vision much improved. No doubt that was thanks to the liquids he'd consumed. His sight was almost back to normal, and the face he'd glimpsed just now had been pretty. Not exceptionally so, but certainly nothing to sneer at or turn away from in disgust. It left him a little bewildered and quite a bit angry on her behalf. What was the matter with these Englishmen that they would turn down a sweet woman like Averill? He wondered sleepily, then thought the answer might lie in the question. They were Englishmen.
Chapter Three
When Kade next awoke, it was to find Averill gone and Will seated at his side.
"Thank God you are awake. I thought I should go mad with boredom."
Kade raised an eyebrow at the irritated words and turned his head to better see his friend, his cheek coming up against the almost dry cloth that had previously been over his eyes. He reached up weakly to grab the thing, and Will immediately leaned forward to snatch it from him. He then stood and moved to a chest near the bed to dampen it again. "I came to tell you that Domnall, Ian, and Angus had left, but you were asleep. Before I could leave, Averill insisted I must sit and watch over you while she went below to have the nooning meal. She is fetching back something for you to eat when she returns."
"I dinna need watchin'. I'm fine now," Kade growled, and frowned at how husky his voice still was.
"Aye, well, you were so sick we feared we would lose you. I suspect she will fret until you are back on your feet."
Kade grunted at the possibility, and waved him weakly away when he moved to replace the damp cloth over his eyes. "I dinna need that any longer."
Will hesitated. "Averill insisted you do. She said you were suffering headaches."
"'Tis gone," Kade said, though a slight pounding still lingered on the edges of his consciousness. It was mild enough, however, that he would do without the cloth.
"Hmm."
When Will still stood there, looking as if he were debating whether to listen to him or Averill, Kade tried to distract him by asking the question that had plagued him into sleep. "Why are these men yer father is bringing around rejecting Averill?"
Will's eyebrows flew up, and the hand holding the cloth dropped to hang at his side as he considered the question. Kade saw the irritation marking his features and waited patiently.
"Her hair is part of the problem," Will said at last.
"What the devil is wrong with her hair?" Kade asked with amazement.
"I suppose you haven't really seen it, but her hair is orange," he announced with a grimace that suggested it was less than desirable.
Kade scowled at the description. The quick look he'd gotten of Averill had shown him lovely long hair made up of blond, strawberry blond, and fiery red tresses that all culminated in a bright mass of flame-colored hair he'd quite liked. It was not orange.
"I think it's fine," Will added. "'Tis even pretty in a certain light, but red hair, especially orangey red, is not very popular among the English. There are some superstitions about it being the mark of the Devil and so on." He moved his hand as he spoke, unconsciously slapping the damp cloth he held against his leg in a repeated sign of irritation. "And then there is the birthmark on her cheek, which the superstitious also consider a mark of the Devil."
Kade frowned as he considered the flash of Averill that he'd seen. There had been a red mark on her cheek, a very small, red, strawberry-shaped spot one could almost mistake for a dimple. Hardly something any reasonable man would imagine was the mark of the Devil, but then he'd learned long ago that superstition was rarely reasonable.
"And, of course, she stammers," Will added on a sigh, drawing Kade's startled glance his way.
"Stammers?" he asked with surprise.
"Aye. Have you not noticed?" he asked, showing some surprise of his own.
"She's no' stammered while talkin' to me," Kade assured him.
"Really?" Will asked with sudden interest, the hand holding the cloth going still. "That is odd. While Averill does not stammer around family and friends, she always does when in the company of strangers, at least until she gets to know and is comfortable with them."
"Hmm," Kade murmured.
"Perhaps she does not stammer with you because you have not seen her yet," Will suggested. "If so, that would prove what I have always suspected."
"What is it ye've always suspected?" Kade asked.
"That she goes shy and quiet and stammers when she speaks only because she is self-conscious of her looks," Will said, then quietly admitted, "She was teased terribly as a child about both her hair and her birthmark. So much so that she avoided the other children and would play only with me." He sighed and turned to set the damp cloth on the chest beside the bowl of water. "If so, she will no doubt leave you to Mabs's tender mercies and avoid you, too, once she realizes that you can see properly again."
Kade scowled, not at all pleased at the idea of having only Mabs to tend him and keep him company until he was up and about. Not that he planned to lie abed long, but he had never been a very good patient and had always found an enforced stay in bed bothersome. The idea of spending the next few days with only Mabs and the occasional visit from Will to pass the time was not a pleasing one.
"Give me that compress." Kade held out his hand, only to pull it back with a frown when he saw how it shook weakly.
"What? Why?" Will asked with surprise.
"Because yer sister promised to read to me when I woke, and I'll no have her knowin' I can see and scared off because some stupid Englishmen have made her self-conscious about her looks. Put the damned compress back and let her think I am still havin' trouble with me eyes."
Amusement curled Will's lips as he moved to retrieve the damp cloth. His back to Kade, he asked curiously, "So is it that Mabs is dry as dirt and bossy? Or that my sister is sweet and you enjoy her company?"
"I've hardly been awake long enough to ken whether I enjoy yer sister's company," Kade pointed out dryly, though that wasn't entirely true. The room had seemed a bit brighter the two times he had been awake while she was there. Even the arrival of Will last night, and then him and his men this morning had not been as soothing as the few short moments when Averill was present.
"I suppose," Will acknowledged as he turned back with the cloth. "So I shall ask you that question again in a week or so and look forward to your answer."
Kade merely grunted, then stiffened in the bed at the sound of the door opening. Without thinking, he turned to glance over to see who was entering and caught a quick glimpse of Averill. Her hair was unbound and flaming around her pretty, pale face as she entered, carefully balancing a tray in hand. His attention had just turned to the dark green gown she wore, and he was noting how it suited her coloring and emphasized her plump figure, when his vision was obscured by the cloth Will suddenly dropped over his face.