The Hellion and the Highlander (23 page)

“Neither. He is dead,” Kade said baldly.

“What?” She sat up abruptly, as shocked as if he’d poured cold water over her in the warm bed.

“He is dead, wife,” Kade repeated quietly. “Now tell me what happened.”

“How?”

“I will explain after you tell me what occurred last night,” he said firmly, his expression determined.

Averill frowned at his tone. Kade claimed he wasn’t angry, but his tone said otherwise. Deciding that it mattered little to tell him now if Brodie was dead, she dropped to lie back in the bed, and said, “He was in our room when I went in after taking up the tray for Domnall. I was weary and Morag had suggested I eat in our room, that she would bring up a tray. When I entered, he was there. He covered my mouth so I could not scream and said he had come to ask me why I was poisoning him. That he’d suspected something was wrong when he kept getting sick, but had known for sure when he went down to the inn that night and drank whiskey without his stomach rebelling. He called me a murdering bitch, threw me on the bed, came down on top of me, and punched me in the face.” She paused briefly then, debating whether to tell her husband Brodie had claimed he was going to rape and kill her, but then decided not to bother. Brodie was dead, and it would only hurt Kade.

Sighing, she continued, “And then Morag hit him over the head, and he slumped on top of me, unconscious.”

“And then what happened?” Kade asked quietly when she paused.

Averill shrugged. “Morag helped me roll him off and we left him there.”

“He was covered up with furs,” Kade said solemnly.

“Aye. I decided you and I would sleep in here and had Bess help me make up the bed with fresh linens, but we had no furs for the bed, so we took Brodie’s from his room, rolled him around to get our furs out from under him, then tossed his furs over him before leaving.” She frowned, and said, “I am sure he was not dead then, husband. He was limp, but still warm. You do not think it was the tincture that did him in, do you?”

“He was stabbed,” Kade said quietly, and Averill jerked upright in the bed again.

“Stabbed?”

“Aye. In the back,” Will announced, drawing her attention to his presence. He was standing on the left side of the bed, in her present blind spot, and she had to turn her head a good way to see him.

Averill turned back to Kade to ask with bewilderment, “But who would stab him?”

“Any number o’ people,” Kade said wearily. “He was no’ well liked here.”

“If he was the target,” Will commented, and when Averill and Kade both turned to him in surprise, he shrugged, and pointed out, “He was in your bed, Kade. It could have been someone thinking it was you. You have already had other attempts on your life.”

“But those were all away from the keep,” Averill protested quickly, not wishing to believe it had been another attempt on Kade.

“The stone that was pushed off the curtain wall onto him was not away from the keep,” Will pointed out.

“But that was
outside
, not inside the castle itself. Surely a murderer would not risk creeping around the castle and…” She fell silent as Kade covered her hand with his own and squeezed gently.

“I ken ye doona want to believe our home has been breached, but Will is right, it could ha’e been meant fer me, and we must consider that.”

Sighing, Averill nodded and lowered her head, admitting to herself that it might very well have been meant for her husband. And then anger washed through her, and she lifted her head again to glare out of her one good eye. “Have you not yet figured out who would be behind these attacks? Surely for someone to be so angry at you and determined to see you dead, you must have an idea why or who?”

“Nay,” Kade said calmly, and added, “I’ve wracked me mind, but there’s no one I can think o’.”

“Mayhap it is not someone you have angered,” Will reasoned, then asked, “Who would benefit from your death?”

Kade shook his head. “No one. Well, mayhap Gawain. He would be next in line did me father no’ reclaim his title and position as laird.”

“Not Gawain,” Will said with a shake of the head, and Averill tended to agree with him. She liked what she knew of the man, so far. Now, had
Gawain been accidentally killed, she would have had no trouble believing Brodie behind it, but she just did not think Gawain the sort.

“Nay,” Kade agreed as he stood. “I shall have to think on it some more.”

“Where are you going?” Averill asked worriedly. If the person trying to kill her husband had brought his efforts inside the castle, Kade would not be safe anywhere, she thought, and said, “If you are correct, should you not arrange for a guard for protection?”

“Aye. I’ll set two men outside the door while ye sleep,” he said reassuringly. “They will follow ye throughout the day today, and another two will guard our door at night.”

“Not for me,” she said with exasperation. “’Tis you someone is trying to kill. I meant a guard for you.”

“I will not leave his side, Avy,” Will said quietly. “And if I do, I shall ensure someone else is with him to keep him safe.”

Kade grimaced at the words, but merely said, “We’ll go below and leave ye to get more sleep. I ken ye had trouble droppin’ off last night.”

Kade and Will started across the room, but Averill called out, “Husband?”

Pausing at the door, he glanced back. When she hesitated, he quietly asked Will to wait in the hall. The moment her brother had stepped out of the room, he closed the door and returned to stand beside the bed. “Aye?”

“I am sorry about your brother,” Averill murmured, and she was. She was not that broken up over Brodie’s death, but she was sorry for Kade that his brother was dead.

He nodded. “Thank ye.”

“Are you very upset?” she asked uncertainly, wondering how she was to comfort him.

“Nay,” Kade assured her on a sigh, and tried to explain his feelings, something she suspected he did not often do. “He was me brother, but I hardly kenned him…and I didna like him. While I’m sorry he’s dead, I feel no real grief at the loss. In truth, the news o’ Ian’s death saddened me more.”

Averill nodded, supposing she wasn’t surprised. She doubted if anyone but Kade’s father would feel grief at Brodie’s passing…and possibly Gawain and Merry…which seemed terribly sad, and yet the man had brought it on himself with his cruel actions. ’Twas hard to feel any real grief at the loss of a tyrant.

“Get some rest,” Kade said, and turned away. This time she let him leave without calling him back, but she also tossed the bed furs aside the moment the door closed behind him and got up to dress.

There was no way she was going to be able to sleep now. Brodie was dead, and it was all her fault. Had she told Kade last night that the man was in their bed, he might have been moved to his own and still be alive.

Of course, then she and Kade would have been
sleeping in their room last night, and her husband would have been the one stabbed, Averill thought grimly. Perhaps she didn’t feel so guilty about her actions getting Brodie killed. She was selfish enough to be glad it was him and not her husband. And, truthfully, this was probably the first useful thing the man had done in his life. Too bad it was his last.

“Wife.” Kade paused on the stairs as he encountered Averill coming down as he went up. “I thought ye’d sleep a while longer.”

“Nay.” She grimaced, but shook her head. “I am awake now and have things to do.”

Kade hesitated, his gaze sliding to the room at the top of the stairs. He’d just finished breaking his fast with Will and Gawain. The two men were convinced Brodie’s death was the result of another attempt on Kade’s life. He tended to agree with them and had decided that two armed guards should be placed in the upper hall at night to ensure such a thing didn’t happen again.

Will had suggested a personal guard of two men for Kade himself as well, and while he didn’t
like it, he’d agreed for the sake of preventing an argument. He had not agreed with the Englishman’s suggestion that they should be Will’s soldiers, however. Kade was laird of Stewart now and had his own men to handle such tasks. However, Will and Gawain would not hear of it when he’d started to head out in search of Aidan to arrange it. They’d insisted on his staying inside where bits of the castle could not be thrown down on him and suggested he go apprise Domnall of what was happening while they fetched Aidan back for him.

That was where Kade had been heading when Averill had appeared at the top of the stairs and started down. Now he peered at his wife, and said, “Diya want me to keep ye company while ye break yer fast?”

Averill smiled as if he’d offered her the sun as a gift but shook her head. “Thank you, but no, husband. I can see you were on your way somewhere, and I was just going to collect something to eat from the kitchens while I spoke to Morag, then bring a tray up for Domnall.”

“I’ll tell him food is coming then,” Kade decided.

“I suspected that was where you were headed. Is there anything you would like me to bring you when I come?”

“Nay.” He leaned forward to press a kiss to her lips for the thoughtful offer.

Averill stood two steps higher than he, and it
put their faces on a level. Kade quite enjoyed not having to bend over to find her lips for a change. It meant he had no twinge of pain from his back wound, and he found himself deepening the kiss, his tongue slipping out to fill her mouth as his hands reached instinctively for her breasts.

When she gave one of her soft little moans at the caress, Kade was tempted to forget his present plans and hurry her back to their room, but then Averill slipped her arms around his back, her hand unintentionally brushing over his wound, and he stiffened, the idea dying a quick death. Another day or two of healing and perhaps he could follow up on the plan, but now was not the time.

A small sigh slipping from his lips, he broke their kiss and steadied her until she opened her eyes, then brushed a finger down her nose affectionately. She looked so adorable with her cheeks all flushed with color and her unwounded eye hot for him.

“I’ve things to do,” he said in apology, not wishing to let her know she’d accidentally caused him pain.

Averill sighed, her gaze sliding to the great hall below and the door to the kitchens, and she nodded. “As do I.” She glanced back to him, her eyebrow raised in question. “Did you say you wished something or no?”

Kade chuckled, pleased that his kiss could so overset her, but merely repeated his earlier “Nay”
as he started past her. He heard her humming happily to herself as she continued down the stairs, and that made him smile as he continued on to the nearer door to Domnall’s room. He opened it without knocking and strode in, reaching the bed before he realized it was empty. Kade halted then and glanced about, eyes landing on the figure by the window. Domnall was peering down at the bailey below like a king surveying his realm, but paused now and glanced his way, only to stiffen, something like surprise crossing his face as he breathed, “Cousin.”

Kade tilted his head, one eyebrow rising in query at the reaction to his presence. It was enough to make Domnall give himself a bit of a shake and force a wry smile.

“Sorry,” he muttered with a wry twist to his lips. “I feared ye were yer lady wife, and she would bullock me fer bein’ up and about.”

“Aye, she would,” Kade said quietly, thinking he was lying. He didn’t say so, however, but added, “Ye should lie down. Ye’ll pull out the stitches Averill worked so hard to put into ye.”

“In a minute, I’m sick o’ bein’ abed,” Domnall said a bit shortly, turning to peer back out the window again as he said, “I saw Gawain and Will cross the bailey toward the stables just before ye entered. There was an air o’ purpose in their strides.”

“They’ve gone in search o’ Aidan for me.”

“Oh?” he asked, sounding grim. “Why? What’s happened?”

Kade considered him solemnly, noting his stiff stance. “What makes ye think anything has happened?”

Domnall didn’t answer. Something had caught his attention in the bailey, and he’d gone completely still.

“What is it?” Kade asked curiously.

“A lone rider just crossed the drawbridge into the bailey,” the warrior muttered, leaning farther out the opening and squinting in an effort to see better. “He looks like—”

Domnall fell silent, and shook his head as if trying to shake out a nasty thought. He then turned his attention back to Kade. “So what has happened?”

Kade debated again asking what made him think anything had happened, but in the end simply said, “Brodie was stabbed while asleep in me bed.”

Domnall’s mouth tightened with displeasure. “What was he doing there?”

“I tell ye me brother was stabbed in me bed, and ye ask neither why nor by whom but what he was doing there?” Kade asked slowly. They stared at each other silently, sizing each other up, then rather than explain his brother’s attack of Averill, Kade said simply, “’Tis where he landed and where he was left.”

“Hmm,” Domnall turned and began to pace away from both the window and the bed, not to mention Kade. He was moving closer to the door at the far end of the room, Kade noted and started
to tense, but relaxed a little when the man paused by the fireplace. Domnall leaned one arm on the mantel and peered into the cold embers for a moment, then asked, “Ye ken it was me, doona ye? I gave meself away when ye entered.”

Kade felt the tension in his shoulders slip away as disappointment claimed him. “I suspected, but wasna sure until this verra minute.”

The other man snorted and turned, a small blade in hand, but Kade barely paid it any heed. His healing was well along and Domnall’s, while old, was newly reopened; one well-placed punch would incapacitate the man. So long as he didn’t flee out the far door.

“Why?” Kade asked with bewilderment. While the two of them were not as close as he and Ian had been, Domnall was also his cousin. He was the son of Eachann Stewart’s younger brother, a drunk and ne’er-do-well who had died quite young, shortly after Domnall was born. He, too, had been sent to train with Simon, and while Kade had always been closer to Ian, he had still counted Domnall as family and a friend. They had been through and survived a lot together, and it was difficult for him to understand why he would do all of this.

“Why?” Domnall echoed and grimaced. “I suppose I owe ye that much.”

“At least,” Kade said quietly.

The other man nodded, then shrugged. “After the accident that left ye unconscious for so long,
when we were no’ sure whether ye’d live or die, Angus said as how we’d ha’e to carry on fer ye and do what ye’d intended to do. We’d ha’e to come to Stewart and force yer father to cede the title and we’d ha’e to take over the care and runnin’ o’ Stewart fer ye. It was what ye’d want, he said, then he pointed out that as I was next in line after ye and yer brothers, it would be me job to do it.”

He grimaced. “I waved the idea away at the time, but the seed ha’ been planted, and I found meself unable to shake the idea. Me, a laird over me own land and people. The warrior who would deliver those downtrodden servants and soldiers from three drunken idiots who didna deserve their place as lairds over them.” Domnall shook his head. “I didna e’en ken about the chest of coin then, but I wanted to be Laird Stewart.

“When ye didna wake up by the end of the first week, I began to think it might happen. Halfway through the next, I was sure ye’d ne’er recover, and I would be the one to force yer father to cede, claim Stewart, and take over ruling the lands.” His mouth twisted. “And I liked the idea. I started to want it badly, and when ye suddenly woke up after so long asleep, rather than the joy all else felt, I was sorry as can be…and e’en angry that ye had. That’s when I decided I’d ha’e to help ye meet yer maker after all, so that I could ha’e all that I deserved.”

“All that was mine, ye mean,” Kade said dryly,
and when he merely shrugged, asked with a sort of disbelief. “And ye had no qualms doin’ it?”

“Ye were in me way,” he said simply.

Kade’s chin rose as if from a blow at the simple sentiment, then his mouth tightened, and he asked, “And Ian and Angus?”

“Well, once ye told us about the chest, I wanted it,” he admitted wryly. “’Twould have made everything that much easier, and while Angus had said I would ha’e to take yer place and tend to Stewart, that was before any o’ us kenned about the coin ye’d been stashing away and counted on to help ye tend matters at Stewart. I didna trust he and Ian no’ to suggest we should split it once I managed to kill ye, so…”

“They woudna ha’e wanted it, and even had they, there was more than enough to share,” Kade said dryly. “Ye didna ha’e to kill them.”

“Aye, but think how much easier it would ha’e been convincin’ the people here to side with me against their laird and his sons with all o’ it in me possession. Besides, after those three years as a slave, I yearned for comfort and the finer things for a change.”

“Ye ha’e no conscience at all,” Kade said with amazement, and wondered how he had missed that about this man all these years.

“Aye, me nursemaid used to say that, too, and she said it like ’twas a flaw,” Domnall added with amusement. “But I’ve no’ really understood the
usefulness o’ a conscience. If ye want something, why should ye no’ have it? And why should
ye
be laird rather than me? Ye didna want it as much, else ye would ha’e argued with yer father and claimed it back when Merry wrote ye asking ye to.” He shrugged.

“So ye killed Ian and Angus and came here?” Kade asked quietly.

“Nay. I headed for Mortagne. I thought ye still there and planned to show up with the sad story I told ye when I first woke here, then kill ye on the journey to Stewart. But when I stopped to camp a day’s ride from Mortagne, I heard talkin’ across the river and was amazed to see Averill in the water with her maid. And then when ye joined her and the others left…well, ’twas like a gift from God. Obviously he wants me to have Stewart, too.”

“Ye shot the arrow,” Kade said.

“Aye, but ye moved, and I nearly killed Averill by mistake.” He grimaced, then continued, “I followed yer travelin’ party after that, hopin’ to get another chance, but the first arrow had made ye cautious. Ye ne’er left the others, stayin’ always surrounded by soldiers. Ye didna even try to get Averill alone again.”

Kade merely stared at him, and asked, “The stone that fell from the curtain wall?”

“Aye. I ken about the secret passages just as you do. Yer father told me while drunk one night years ago. They are verra handy.”

“And the second and third arrows?” Kade asked, though he knew the answer.

Domnall nodded. “I thought sure I’d done it then. I was going to ride in with yer chest and claim me spoils, but thought I’d first just creep about and be sure ye’d died. I couldna approach anyone ere I knew fer sure ye were gone, else I’d ha’e to show up without yer chest and come up with where I came into money later.” His mouth tightened with displeasure. “Yer the luckiest bastard I ever heard tell o’. I couldna believe it when I slipped into the castle through the passageway and overheard ye arguin’ with Averill about goin’ down to the woods with her to look for weeds. No’ only weren’t ye dead, ye were up and about as if naught had happened.

He shook his head with disgust. “So I slipped back out through the passageways and waited for them to leave the bailey, then followed them to where they stopped to gather the rushes. I debated goin’ back and usin’ the passageways to kill ye, but I was nearly spotted the first time when I threw down the stone on ye and thought it safer to do it from inside the castle. So, I reopened me wound and stumbled out to Averill, and she did exactly as I expected and brought me back here.”

“And ye set about yer plan to kill me, but stabbed and killed Brodie instead,” Kade said grimly.

“Aye,” he said dryly. “As I said, yer one lucky bastard.” A muscle twitched by his eye, and he ground his teeth before admitting, “I should ha’e
realized somethin’ was amiss when Averill wasna there, but I just thought ye slept apart as some couples do. Who would ha’e thought ye’d leave the bastard to sleep in yer bed and take another?”

Kade was silent for several minutes, but then asked, “Where did ye get your wound?”

“I gave it to him.”

Kade turned abruptly to see a ghost in the now-open nearer doorway. His cousin, Ian, apparently risen from the dead, stood pale and grim, his hand resting protectively over his stomach. He would almost have believed him a ghost come in search of vengeance were it not for the fact that Will, Gawain, and Aidan stood behind him in the doorway. Kade smiled slowly. Ian lived.

“Nay! I killed ye!” Domnall almost howled the words.

“Nay! Ye tried,” Ian snapped back with disgust, and turned to Kade to say, “I just arrived. I’d ha’e come sooner but was not well enough.” He gestured toward his stomach and grimaced. “I took a sword in me belly.”

“A gift from Dom?” Kade asked dryly.

“Aye. On the way back to Mortagne after collecting yer chest, we stopped to make camp fer the night, and I woke to a sword in me belly. I was so enraged by his betrayal that I grabbed up me own sword and returned the favor before I passed out. When I woke up, Angus was dead and Domnall gone with the chest. I figured he’d scarpered with
it for France or something. I never imagined he’d have the bollocks to come here. I stumbled around for a day and passed out again. Next time I woke up I was in a castle, bein’ tended by an angel. Her people found Angus when I told them where to look and buried him. They saw me back to health, and soon as I could walk, I mounted up and rode here to tell ye what had happened.”