Taming the Highland Bride (20 page)

He could do no less than return the favor, and Alex was just as blunt and open about all that had occurred since Merry’s arrival at d’Aumesbery. Cullen listened silently in return. When Alex got to the part about going outside to relieve himself and someone clubbing him over the head, that was where he fell silent. He didn’t remember much after that; vague recollections of being dragged through the woods, Merry falling on him, her voice anxious, and then a pain-filled and nauseating trek back to the tent.

Cullen informed him of what Merry had told them, helping to fill in the holes, and then paused to rub his jaw thoughtfully before saying, “’Tis no’ yer wife dosin’ ye.”

“Nay, of course not,” Alex said promptly, but was aware of a touch of relief sliding through him at the man’s words.

Cullen merely smiled knowingly, and added, “Ye’d be forgiven fer thinking so since it only started
after her arrival and since she’s benefited from the dosing.”

“Benefited?” Alex asked dryly.

“Well, some would think it a benefit to have a man chasin’ after ye like a bull stud.”

“Not if the bull was relentless and chased after you until you were both sore and aching,” Alex said dryly.

“Mayhap no’, but she’s still no’ the one behind it. She cares about ye.”

“Does she?” Alex asked, and then felt his face flush as he heard the eagerness in his own voice. The idea that Merry might care for him was a pleasing one, and one he hadn’t even dared hope for up until now. They had got off to such a bad start with her thinking him a drunk for so long…

“Aye, she does. I think she even loves ye, though she doesna ken it yet. Fer now, she’s just at that mother bitch stage.”

Alex stared at him blankly. “Mother bitch?”

“A bitch with a litter.”

“Oh!” Alex relaxed. “You mean a dog.”

“Aye. We call female dogs bitches,” Cullen said, and then scowled as he added, “Ye’re me dear wife’s brother, I’d hardly be insultin’ ye or yer wife with name callin’.”

“Nay, of course not,” Alex said with amusement because he suspected the man would insult anyone he pleased if he did not like him, though probably not in front of Evelinde if he thought it might upset her, but Evelinde wasn’t here now to be upset. To change the subject, he asked, “So by mother bitch stage you mean she is protective of me?”

“Oh, aye, she is that,” Cullen assured him, the smile returning to his face. “Stewart isna far from here and we’ve had occasion to meet ere this. Merry can be a right shrew when it comes to her father and brothers, but she’s a good lass, and it’s nothing less than they ask fer.”

Alex nodded, he’d come to that conclusion rather quickly himself.

“But she wasna overprotective of them, mostly exasperated from what I could tell. But with you, she’s showin’ the same caring as she did with her ma. Maighread was a good woman and Merry loved her dearly. She was like a mama wolf around that woman, not lettin’ anyone or anything bother her could she help it and tendin’ her like a mother with a bairn rather than the other way around.” He nodded and then said, “She’s the same with you. Rode in here next to yer wagon, shoulders straight, a mean look in her eye, and her
sgian-dubh
at her waist where ’twas handy. Demanded to see me at once and didn’t even bother with a greeting ere she asked me to see to it that ye were placed in a safe room with guards at the door and Godfrey at yer side until she could sort out who was tryin’ to kill ye.”

Alex’s mouth softened as he imagined the scene.

“She had Evelinde all aflutter,” Cullen added with a laugh and shake of the head and then said more seriously, “I didna like that too much. Evelinde’s had enough to upset her recently, but what can ye do? Merry was lookin’ out fer ye. She’s a good woman.”

“Aye, she is,” Alex said with a smile. He certainly hoped Cullen was right and Merry did care for him. The more he got to know her, the more he was sure
he could come to love his wife, and it would be painful not to have that love returned.

“So, ye need to figure out who wid want ye busy beddin’ yer bride all night long,” Cullen said suddenly. He thought for a minute and then asked, “Is there anything ye normally do o’ a night that bedding yer bride has kept ye from?”

“Sleep,” Alex said dryly.

“Then mayhap that’s what ’tis. Keep ye tired and reduce yer concentration and ability to think so ye’re an easy target. Although…” he added thoughtfully.

“What?” Alex asked.

“Well, Merry said whatever it is ye’re given makes ye slur and stumble about like a drunk, too, and at first she even thought ye were like her brothers and father.”

“Aye,” Alex said with a grimace, and then blinked as he realized where the man’s thoughts were headed. “And so mayhap whatever I have been ingesting is not meant to make me bed her so much as appear like her father and brothers and cause strife between us.”

Cullen nodded. “She’d hardly welcome ye to her bed did she think ye little more than a drunk.”

“And under the influence of this drug I might very well have forced her had I not felt so bad about what I’d thought happened on the wedding night.”

Cullen raised an eyebrow. “She said the need didna appear to be there the first three weeks though the slurring and clumsiness were.”

“Oh, aye, ’twas there,” Alex assured him dryly, and then added thoughtfully, “Though ’twas not
as bad as last night, or the last night we were together,” he corrected himself as he realized at least two days must have passed since the night the need had ridden him so relentlessly. “I could control it the first three weeks. But this last time…” He paused briefly, but then decided the man had been honest with him and he owed him the same back and admitted, “Had she refused me, I fear I would have ignored her refusal. I was barely able to slow down when I realized I was scaring her and she was not ready to accept me.”

Cullen nodded solemnly, and then pointed out, “Medicinals and drugs are often a woman’s weapon.”

Alex eyed him narrowly. “I thought you did not think Merry behind this?”

“Nay. I doona,” he assured him. “But I wouldna put it past Edda. That woman is a viper.”

Alex wouldn’t have put it past his stepmother, either, but pointed out, “She is back at d’Aumesbery, so could not have dosed me on the journey.”

“But mayhap she has enlisted one of yer men,” he pointed out. “If so, he may ha’e got the dose wrong and given ye too much. It may be why ye reacted so strongly this last time.”

“Mayhap,” Alex allowed, though he didn’t like the idea that one of his men might be behind this. “Why would Edda bother? Causing trouble between Merry and me merely makes for a battle zone for a home. ’Tis not as if we can dissolve the marriage. And if the attacks are connected to the dosing, then what are they about? I’d swear that boulder incident was an attempt to kill me. Had I not moved it would
have landed on my head. But the second time they knocked me out and tried to drag me away. I had just regained consciousness and was preparing to struggle when Merry found and fell on me.”

“Did ye see who had ye?” Cullen asked, leaning eagerly forward.

Alex grimaced. “Nay. I was conscious but just barely and hadn’t yet gathered the strength to lift my head.”

Cullen nodded. “Mayhap they really didna mean to kill ye the first time, or mayhap they were dragging ye away to try to make yer death look like an accident the second time.”

“Aye,” Alex said thoughtfully. Either was a possibility. “An accident might have been believed…Still, why? Merry would be widowed, but still hold the title, and the king would see her married as quickly as possible to place a man there to hold the castle. Edda would hardly benefit from that.”

“What would happen if both o’ ye died?” Cullen asked curiously. “Wid Edda gain d’Aumesbery?”

Alex stiffened at the very suggestion, and then relaxed and shook his head. “Nay. Evelinde would inherit and d’Aumesbery would be your problem.”

Cullen grimaced at the idea. “I ha’e me hands full with Donnachaidh. Ye can keep d’Aumesbery.”

“Thank you,” Alex said dryly, but found a reluctant smile claiming his lips when the man laughed.

“Well, ’tis quite a puzzle,” Cullen said unhappily and then added, “And it appears I’m goin’ to disappoint me wife by no’ bein’ able to help ye solve it.”

“Well, you tried,” Alex said quietly. “And I appreciate it.”

“Hmm.” Cullen nodded. “And the women ha’e tried, too. Merry has been fretting o’er it with me wife below. The trouble is that the two things, the attacks and the dosin’, doona appear to work toward the same end.” He shook his head. “I’ll continue to give it thought, but in the meantime, I advise ye to be careful, keep a guard with ye, and no’ to drink anything unless ye’re sure it hasna been tampered with.”

“Aye,” Alex agreed.

“Good, then ye’ll keep yerself alive and me wife happy as well as yer own.”

“Then we shall all be happy,” Alex said dryly.

A
lex was absolutely miserable.

He closed his eyes and clutched his head against the pain that was being exacerbated by the arguing in the room. He finally covered his ears to block it out, but it helped little. His room had been full of people ever since Cullen and he had finished their talk. The Devil of Donnachaidh had left the room to speak to his wife, and the next thing Alex knew, Merry was there with Gerhard and Godfrey hard on her heels, and Evelinde; her maid, Mildrede; and Merry’s maid, Una; as well as a woman introduced to him as Cullen’s Aunt Biddy, not far behind.

It had been fine at first. The women had done most of the talking, and he’d actually enjoyed the light chatter and easy banter between his wife and sister. Gerhard and Godfrey had merely listened as Evelinde apprised Alex of all that had happened in the three years while he’d been away on crusade and of her life here at Donnachaidh. She was so obviously happy here that it warmed his heart. He’d also noted and enjoyed the easy affection she seemed to share with Aunt Biddy, though he wasn’t surprised by it. The charm of the older woman and the twinkle in her eye as she’d told tales about life at Donnachaidh when Cullen was a boy made him quite like her.

Out of it all, however, the thing Alex had enjoyed the most was when Merry had opened up and told little anecdotes about her own childhood. It had helped him get to know her better, too, and the more he learned about his wife, the more he liked her.

When it was time to sup he tried to get up, but Alex found himself immediately pushed back into bed as Merry insisted she would bring him his meal there. She’d added that she would eat with him, and Evelinde suggested they would all eat above stairs. The next thing Alex knew, Cullen had joined them and maids were trooping in with trenchers piled high with food for one and all. The conversation continued to flow while they ate and then afterward…until a few moments ago when Merry caught him yawning and suggested it might be time for everyone to leave and let him rest.

Gerhard proposed that he remain and sleep on a pallet by the door to be sure Alex remained safe. The
soldier’s eyes had been fixed firmly on Merry and her maid when he’d said that. In the next moment, all hell had broken loose, with everyone talking at once and accusations and suspicions flying every which way.

Since covering his ears didn’t help any, Alex wearily let his hands drop back to his lap and scowled at the people filling his room, as Gerhard said sarcastically, “Well, begging your pardon, my lady, but ’tis notable that the dosing and attacks did not start until after you and your maid arrived at d’Aumesbery.”

“That
is
rather upsetting,” Evelinde put in, biting her lip.

Merry turned a hurt expression to the woman. “Ye believe I would harm Alex, too?”

“Nay, of course not,” his sister said quickly, and then added reluctantly, “But mayhap your maid, thinking you were married to a drunk and miserable—”

Merry brought her words to a halt with an irritated wave of the hand. “Oh, Una would never do that. Especially once she realized I was beginning to care for him.”

“You care for me?” Alex asked, perking up on the bed.

Merry flushed, but scowled at him and murmured, “Hush.”

“Still,” Gerhard insisted, waving a finger at Merry. “The attacks did not start until after you arrived and
you
are the only one who would benefit from his death.”

“Diya point that finger at me again, Gerhard, I’ll surely snap it off,” Merry said coldly. “Has it es
caped yer notice that
I
am the one who dragged me husband’s very heavy and unconscious body back from the waterfall? And what o’ the other night when I scared off the one dragging him away and helped him stumble back to camp? I would hardly knock him out just to have to lug his huge, heavy body back.”

“Mayhap you would, to steer the suspicion elsewhere when he is finally killed the next time,” Gerhard snapped back, and then added, “And who would believe that a lady as little as you would scare off an attacker anyway? Why did he not just knock you out, too?”

“I have no idea,” she said stiffly. “But I ken I didna harm Alex and never would. You on the other hand seem to be busy pointing the finger at me. Mayhap that is yer attempt to keep suspicion off yerself.”

“Me?” Gerhard barked with disbelief. “Why the devil would I harm Alex? And I certainly would have no reason to dose him…unlike you.”

“Oh, aye, but mayhap the dosin’ was merely to point the guilty finger in me direction. As fer why ye’d harm him?” Her eyes narrowed. “I keep recallin’ the day me family and I arrived at d’Aumesbery and ye had trouble introducing yerself. Ye hesitated and then just settled on referring to yerself as ‘his man’ and
that
a tad bitterly.”

Alex glanced to Gerhard with surprise. “You are my first, Gerhard. Why would you even hesitate to say so?”

The soldier looked uncomfortable and then grimaced and admitted, “I was not sure I still was your first.”

“What?” Alex asked with amazement.

“Well,” he said a bit bitterly, “as your first, I should have been the one left behind to tend to d’Aumesbery while you were away on this journey, so when you trained someone else to run the keep while away and brought me along on this trip, I thought mayhap you felt I am too old for the position of first and were looking to replace me.”

Alex clucked his tongue with irritation. “Why did you not just ask me? I left another in charge and brought you because d’Aumesbery is relatively safe and threat-free at the moment, but I was riding into an unknown situation here. If Evelinde was miserable and being abused I could not simply leave her here and not do anything about it, so brought my best and most trustworthy men, including
you
, my
first
, with me in case we had to battle to get her away.”

“Oh, Alex, that is so sweet,” Evelinde said, smiling on him widely.

Cullen looked less impressed and said dryly, “Ye’d need more men than ye brought with ye fer that, brother.”

Alex grimaced. “I most like would have tried sneaking her away somehow rather than take on you and your men could it not wait until I could bring back my full army.”

“Hmm.” Cullen nodded and then glanced to the others. “’Tis obvious no one is above suspicion here.”

Though his words and tone were hard, Alex noted that the man cast an apologetic glance Merry’s way as he said it and recalled his stating his opinion that she was a fine woman. He didn’t think Cullen truly
thought her behind these attacks on him and was glad for it.

“And,” Cullen went on, distracting him from his thoughts. “Since Alex needs his sleep and I
like
mine, and I ken I won’t be gettin’ any if Evelinde is up half the night fretting ower her brother, no one is sleeping in here with him. Merry, we’ll fix ye a fine room down the hall,” he said gently and then turned a less gentle glance to Gerhard and Godfrey. “And ye two may get yer arses below with the rest of yer men. I already have two of me own best men on the door guarding it and they’ll remain there all night. Now, everyone out.”

Alex saw Merry hesitate, but then she nodded and moved toward the door, only to pause there and wait until everyone else but Cullen and Evelinde had left before nodding a somewhat stiff good night to them and leaving herself.

“I fear I have hurt her feelings,” Evelinde murmured as she watched her go.

“She will get over it,” Cullen said gruffly and slipped his arm around his wife’s shoulders to lead her to the door. “She kens is only out o’ worry fer yer brother.”

“Aye.” Evelinde leaned into her husband as they walked. “Still I feel bad. I like her and truly do not think that she is behind it, but this all started after the wedding. I get the feeling that means something, but cannot sort out what. None of it makes any sense really. Why make Alex randy and then try to kill him? If they
are
trying to kill him,” she added, worrying the problem fretfully.

Cullen rubbed his hand over his wife’s back as he urged her through the door before him. “Let it go, wife. Ye’ll no sort it out tonight. ’Twill just keep ye awake fretting, and I have better things fer ye to be doing in our bed than fretting.”

“Oh, Cullen, I do love you.” Evelinde chuckled as the door closed behind them.

Alex stared at the closed door as blissful silence fell around him and then shook his head with mild disgust. It seemed that taking a blow to the head made people think you’d lost your wits, because no one seemed to care what he thought or felt. They’d snapped and snarled at one another as if he was not even there, his wife even going so far as to hush him when he’d tried to speak. And Cullen hadn’t even asked how he felt the sleeping arrangements should go. The man was laird here and his word was law, but not over Alex or his people. As Lord D’Aumesbery, he was the one in charge of them, but apparently the Devil of Donnachaidh didn’t think so, and Alex suspected that was all down to his being stuck in this bed all day, appearing an invalid.

Well, Alex thought, he would correct that impression on the morrow. He was getting out of this bed first thing in the morning and taking charge of matters. And he would also sort out what was happening and who was behind it, he decided firmly and then blew out the candle still burning on the bedside and settled under the linens and furs.

However, it was a long time before Alex was able to find sleep. The room was incredibly quiet and the
bed seemed extremely empty without Merry there. After tossing and turning for a while, he slipped from the bed and—relieved to find he wasn’t quite as weak as the first time he’d tried to rise—made his way to the chair by the fire to think over the problem some more. It was near dawn before Alex gave it up and slipped back into the big empty bed. As he drifted off to sleep he decided he just didn’t like not having Merry there and wasn’t going to sleep alone again…even if he had to leave Donnachaidh to do it.

“I truly am sorry, Merry,” Evelinde said for the third time in the last half hour since Merry had joined her at the trestle table to break her fast. “I really do like you and I do not believe you are behind any of these attacks on Alex, but—”

“’Tis all right,” Merry interrupted quietly. “I do understand. Ye love yer brother and so ye’re doing what’s in his best interests.”

“Aye, but I feel bad you went to bed last night thinking I suspect you. I just—”

“Well, I was a little hurt,” Merry admitted quietly. “But I still understood even then. Ye’ve no need to keep apologizing like this.” She patted her hand soothingly and then added, “Besides, ’twas Cullen who ordered the sleeping arrangements last night, and his suspicions were fair. He kept Gerhard from staying with Alex, too, and I am grateful for that.”

“Aye.”

Merry quirked one eyebrow at her troubled expression. “What is it?”

“’Tis just…Well, Gerhard was at d’Aumesbery
my whole life and I thought I knew him well, but…”

“But?” Merry prompted.

“His time on the Crusades seems to have changed him somewhat. He is harder than I recall and yet softer in some ways as well.” Evelinde scowled as she tried to explain and then burst out, saying, “Do you know when I came to the table this morning, he was telling Cullen he did not think there was any way Edda could be behind all of this. That she was not as bad as everyone thought, had nothing to gain from it, and was basically an unhappy woman who was sadly misunderstood.”

Merry’s eyebrows rose slightly at this news and she glanced around the great hall in search of the man.

“He was up talking to Alex with Cullen earlier and then went out to the bailey for some reason,” Evelinde muttered unhappily, sending a glare in the general direction of the stairs. “I cannot believe the man would take her side like this. He saw how Edda was all those years after she married my father. Granted, he left with Cullen on crusade ere my father died and Edda did keep herself somewhat reined in while he still lived, but she was still unpleasant and cold to everyone. And yet he appears to be falling for her line about being unhappy and behaving badly and now regretting it. I mean, I understand you believing it. You never met her ere a month ago, but how Gerhard could—” Apparently realizing she was ranting, Evelinde reined herself in and smiled wryly. “I am sorry. I shall give you indigestion with such talk while you are trying to break your fast.”

Merry smiled faintly but asked, “Is it not possible she has changed?”

Evelinde considered the suggestion and then nodded reluctantly. “I suppose ’tis possible. Howbeit it was only weeks ago that she arranged the marriage between Cullen and myself.”

“Aye, and that obviously worked out well,” Merry pointed out.

“But that was not her intent when she petitioned the king to arrange the marriage,” Evelinde said solemnly. “All we knew of Cullen was that silly reputation he has as the Devil of Donnachaidh.”

Merry had to repress a smile. That silly reputation was well-earned. Cullen had gained it in battle and he truly was a Devil under such circumstances, wielding his sword with deadly speed and accuracy. He was an opponent to be feared and respected. However, it appeared he was a much different person with those he cared about.

“Nay,” Evelinde assured her solemnly, “Edda’s intent when she arranged to marry me off to Cullen was not to see me happy. I merely got lucky that way. Howbeit, if you wish to see Edda’s true face, then when you return to d’Aumesbery, you should tell her how blissfully happy I am. I doubt she will be able to maintain a sweet disposition then.”

“’Twill make her furious,” Evelinde’s maid, Mildrede, said solemnly, drawing Merry’s gaze to where she sat. The woman looked grim and knowing, and Merry glanced down unhappily, finding it difficult to imagine that the sweet dear woman who had been so kind to her and made her feel welcome
at d’Aumesbery could be the same one these women knew.

“I can see what we are saying is not sitting right with what you know of Edda,” Evelinde said sadly, and then added, “But mayhap you could err on the side of caution for now? For Alex’s sake?”