"Laddie, here, is willing to direct the men as to which rooms are your father's and brothers'," she announced. "But 'twould be faster were they all taken up at once."
When Kade hesitated, Will said, "My men are at your disposal,"
"'Tis no necessary," a voice called out, and the soldiers shifted aside, dragging their burden with them to reveal seven burly Scots standing just inside the door. Kade hadn't heard them enter, but supposed they'd done so while he was distracted watching his wife talk to Laddie. Now they moved forward as one. The speaker was tall and beefy with red hair and a ruddy complexion. He paused before Kade and eyed him up and down before nodding with apparent satisfaction that he was who he'd claimed to be. "Me laird."
"Aidan?" Kade asked, recognizing the voice that had questioned him from the wall.
"Aye," the warrior answered, then gestured to the men who had entered with him. They all immediately began to disperse. Two moved to relieve the English soldiers of their burden, and the other four collected Kade's father and other brother.
Kade watched long enough to note that while the men's faces were grim, they were careful with their burdens as they lifted the men and carried them to the stairs.
"So ye've come to kick yer da out of the laird's chair, have ye?" Aidan asked.
Kade turned his gaze back to the man, eyes narrowing. He sensed Averill moving closer, and while he'd ordered her to stay close, he now wished she'd move away rather than nearer. If he had to fight, he'd rather not risk her getting in the way. Glancing to the side, he caught her hand and urged her behind him, then scowled, and growled, "Aye."
Aidan's response was to scowl back, and growl, "'Tis about bloody time."
Kade allowed himself to relax. He almost even smiled, but managed to restrain the urge and merely nodded instead.
"Stewart needs ye," Aidan said, then added solemnly, "that's no' to say I won't ha'e to fight ye does yer father order it. He's me laird."
It was all Aidan had to say. The soldier was loyal to the oath he'd given to Kade's father. He wouldn't expect any less. This was his battle, and while the people might wish him to win, they would fight him if their laird ordered it. He respected that and could only hope they gave him the same loyalty should he succeed, so said seriously, "Then I'll try to see he doesna order it."
Aidan nodded. "Angus said ye took a blow to the head when yer ship broke up on rocks."
"Aye. Fortunately, I have good friends, and they saw me home and well," Kade said. He turned to his right, gesturing to Averill's brother. "This is one of them. Lord William Mortagne."
He waited as Aidan nodded in greeting, then turned to his left expecting Averill to be there, only to have to turn again as he recalled he'd pushed her behind his back. He found her kneeling behind him, whispering back and forth with Laddie. It was only then he realized that the boy still remained close by, his directions unneeded since the Stewart men had known where to take his father and brothers.
"Avy?" he said quietly.
She glanced up, then patted Laddie and straightened. "Aye, husband?"
"Come." He caught her hand, tugged her to his side, and turned to face Aidan again as he said, "Me wife."
Averill seemed somewhat dismayed by the terse introduction, but he saw no reason for further explanations. He'd said outside the wall that Will and his soldiers were there to escort him and his wife, Will's sister, to Stewart. There was no need to explain again.
Aidan smiled at Averill and nodded politely. "Me lady."
"G-good d-day, sir," Avy murmured.
Kade frowned at her stuttering and the way she ducked her head. She did not do it around the Mortagne soldiers, but then she knew and was comfortable with them, he supposed. Her doing so now reminded him of his intention to work on her self-esteem, and he promised himself he would just as soon as he could...but not now. It was a matter for another day, he decided, and gave her a reassuring squeeze of the behind that made her gasp and jump a bit. He sensed her turning a sharp gaze on him but had already turned his attention to Aidan.
"As me father's indisposed," Kade said dryly, using the word this man had used earlier, "mayhap ye could give me an accountin' o' what has been happenin' while I was away."
"Aye," Aidan said agreeably.
Kade nodded and started to lead the party to the trestle tables, but paused when Averill tugged on his hand. Frowning, he glanced back and raised an eyebrow in question.
Averill hesitated, then drew him away from the others to whisper, "While you are busy with Aidan, I thought mayhap I would go above stairs and see if there are any rooms suitable for sleeping in. They may need to be cleaned or--"
"Aye," Kade interrupted with a sigh. He had not considered that, but if the bedchambers upstairs were in as poor repair as the hall, there was definitely some work to do before the sun set. He was not sleeping on the hall floor and wouldn't allow Will or Averill to do so either. He'd rather take them out and set up camp in the bailey. The thought was not a happy one for Kade. While he had left Averill alone after their wedding night, first to allow her to heal, then on the journey here simply because there had been no privacy and he hadn't been willing to toss up his wife's skirts in front of a hundred men, he had sustained himself the entire journey with the reassurance that once they reached Stewart and the privacy of a chamber, he would have her again. The possibility that there might be no inhabitable chamber had never occurred to him.
"Go ahead," he said now. "But take the boy with you, and if there is trouble, just shout, and I will come running."
He waited just long enough for Averill to nod, then bent to press a kiss to her lips before turning away to continue to the table.
Chapter Ten
"This one is Merry's room," Laddie announced as he opened the door.
Averill stepped into the room but came to an abrupt halt. This was the fourth room he had shown her. The three before it had been in good shape except for a few cobwebs and dust. It seemed obvious to Averill that Lord Stewart and his sons never bothered to enter the other bedchambers. However, it was now equally obvious that the same could not be said for this room.
"'Tis a m-mess," Laddie stated the obvious with a grimace, following as Averill finally continued into the room.
Taking note of the returning stammer, Averill murmured, "I thought we had agreed that you need not be nervous with me?"
Laddie flushed and glanced away, admitting, "I f-feared ye m-may be angry w-when ye saw all th-this."
"Well, I am not," she assured him. "And even if I were, I would not be angry with you."
Laddie nodded, the stiffness in his stance easing. He even managed a small smile.
Averill smiled in return, then turned to peer over the room. While the rushes on the floor were not fresh, they were not filthy like those below. She suspected they had not been changed since Kade's sister, Merry, had left. Other than that, though, this room more resembled the great hall than the other chambers. It looked as if someone had attacked it in a fit of temper. While a solid oak chair sat before the fire, a small table that had once stood beside it was a mass of broken wood in the rushes. The bed was in one piece, but all of its linens and furs had been torn off and lay in a heap in the corner, and someone had managed to rip one of the shutters from the window. She had no idea where it was, but the remaining shutter was askew, hanging by only one fitting.
A sound drew her gaze around to the door, and Averill spotted Bess in the doorway. The maid held the medicinal bag she'd been sent for, forgotten in her hand, and her eyes were wide and horrified as she peered around the room.
"'Tis a mess," Bess said with a shake of the head.
"Aye," Laddie lamented, then announced, "The laird did it."
"What?" Averill and Bess asked as one, turning to the boy.
He nodded solemnly. "Comes in here all the time, he does. Usually can't walk straight and bumps into things and such. He and the boys break a lot of things in the castle that way, but the laird is the only one comes in
here," he assured them. And then the boy grimaced, and added, "He cries."
Averill straightened a bit at this news, feeling a bit of hope. A father who missed his daughter so much it made him cry could not be all bad, she thought, then wondered if her own father missed her as well. She believed he might a little, but didn't think he'd cry. At least, she hoped not and was fretting over the possibility when Laddie added, "I heard him." The earnest tone in his voice suggested to her that he suspected they might not believe such a thing. When she nodded solemnly to assure him she did, he relaxed a little, and added, "'Twas a shameful sight, I'll tell ye. I was embarrassed for him. He was cryin' and moanin' and stumblin' over things. Then he fell on his arse and just sat there blubberin' on about who was goin' to run the keep now Merry was gone."
Bess clucked with disgust, but Averill sighed with disappointment that it wasn't his daughter he missed but her running of the house. Really, she was finding it hard to like the man, and she had not even met him yet.
Shaking her head, Averill walked to the door and held out her hand, "My medicinals please, Bess."
The maid handed them over almost reluctantly, and as Averill began to dig through the contents, asked anxiously, "Are you sure you're wanting to do this, my lady?"
"Aye," Averill said firmly.
"But..."
Averill held up her hand to silence the maid, then glanced to the boy to say, "Laddie, could you go below and fetch me some mead or cider?"
"Aye, my l-lady," he said eagerly, and Averill smiled faintly as he burst into a run to do her bidding. He was such a sweet boy.
"My lady, about this plan of yours," Bess said anxiously as soon as Laddie was out the door.
Averill sighed and turned to face her maid.
"'Tis a sound plan, Bess," she insisted firmly. "Nothing discourages a behavior like an unpleasant result."
"If that were the case, the hangovers Lord Stewart and his sons surely suffer after they drink would have put them off of it decades ago," her maid said grimly.
"There is a vast difference between a sore head that passes once you have started drinking again and the inability to keep anything, including the drink itself, in your stomach," Averill assured her. "Trust me, if Laird Stewart and his sons are violently ill every time they drink, they will stop drinking. 'Tis plain common sense."
"Aye, but what if they realize you are dosing them?" she asked worriedly.
"They will not know," Averill assured her. "We will give them this first dose while they are unconscious, dribble it down their throats while they sleep just like we fed Kade the broth when he was unconscious."
"You got little of that down his throat, and surely won't be able to get much down theirs," Bess muttered darkly.
Averill frowned as she realized this was true. Perhaps she had to rethink diluting the tincture in mead and should just drop a few drops of the concentrate straight down their throats. Aye, she decided, that would work nicely.
"Come," she said, and led the way out of the room.
"Where are we going?" Bess asked in a hiss, as they moved up the hall.
"To give the tincture to Kade's father and brothers."
"I thought we needed mead for that?" Bess asked with dismay.
"'Twill be easier if we just slip a few drops of the tincture down their throats," Averill explained. "And if we are quick, we can have it all done before Laddie returns."
"Oh, dear Lord," Bess muttered, but then followed silently as Averill sought out and found Kade's father's room.
"God's breath, how does he stand it?" Averill murmured, gazing over the Stewart laird's bedchamber. While there were no lit candles or fire to light the room, it was still only midday and enough sunlight was coming through the open shutters that the room and its occupant were more than visible. Which she could only think was a good thing. This room was as bad as the great hall, the floor littered with discarded clothes and food, broken furniture, and torn-down tapestries. On top of that, it smelled as if someone had died there.
Grimacing, she turned to Bess, only to find her missing. Frowning, she moved back to the door to see her cowering in the hall.
"What are you doing?" Averill asked in a hiss.
"I'll wait out here and stand watch," Bess said quickly.
"Nay, I need your help. You need to hold his mouth open while I pour the tincture in."
"Oh, please, my lady," Bess begged, shaking her head. "I cannot--"
"You can," Averill insisted, catching her hand and dragging her into the room.
"We really shouldn't be doing this. I think you need to--"
"Hush, you will wake him," Averill whispered with exasperation as she retrieved her tincture and opened the vial.
"The second coming wouldn't wake him," Bess said with disgust, peering down at the insensate man.
"Then what are you afraid of?" Averill asked dryly. "Open his mouth."
Bess snapped her mouth closed and bent to open Lord Stewart's. The moment she'd grasped his chin and forehead and pulled his lips apart, Averill leaned over and tipped the tincture to drip a mouthful in.
As soon as she straightened again, Bess released his mouth and hurried for the door. Averill clucked with exasperation at the woman's cowardice, but otherwise ignored her and watched Eachann Stewart's face as she put the lid back on her vial. A relieved breath slipped from her when Lord Stewart began to smack his lips and work his mouth, automatically swallowing the liquid inside. Satisfied, she took a moment to examine him, noting that he looked very similar to Kade except that he was older and had a red and bulbous nose. That would be from the drink, she supposed with a little shake of the head.
"My lady," Bess hissed from the safety of the hall.
Sighing, Averill turned and moved to join her.
"Can we not go below now and--"
"Nay," Averill interrupted firmly. "We have to do the brothers now. Gawain first, I think. His room is closest."
"Surely dosing the father is enough. There's really no need to--"
Ignoring her words, Averill simply caught Bess's hand and dragged her to the next room. Fortunately, after several steps, Bess, blessedly, gave up protesting. It made things go much more quickly, and within moments they were done and slipping out of his room as well.
"This is the last one," Averill said encouragingly as she led Bess to the last door in the hall.
"Thank God," the maid muttered. "Your mother must be rolling in her grave at the business you get up to."
Ignoring her, Averill led the way into the room. Of the three, it was in the worst shape. It seemed obvious that the three men had no care for their possessions. Each room sported broken furniture and other items that had been destroyed, but here even Brodie's bed was broken, one of the newel posts having been snapped, leaving the draperies hanging down at one corner.
Shaking her head, she moved to the bed and waited for Bess to pry his mouth open. Averill then bent to pour in her tincture.
"There," she said as she straightened. A little sigh of relief slipped from Averill's lips as she closed the small vial and slid it back into her bag of medicinals. "'Tis done. All we can do now is wait and see what comes of it."
"Thank God," Bess breathed, releasing her hold on Brodie's mouth. "Please, my lady. Let us get out of here now."
"Aye," Averill said with exasperation and decided she'd never again take the maid along with her on such excursions. Bess had whined and carped the entire time, fretting like an old woman.
Well, all right, Averill acknowledged to herself, at more than forty summers Bess was an old woman. Still, that was no reason to be as timid and nervous as a mouse. 'Twas no wonder the maid had been so scandalized by what Sally and Old Ellie had been telling her about pleasing a man--the woman wouldn't have the heart to try any of them. She'd probably lain quivering in bed, eyes squeezed shut every time her husband had tried to mount her...and wouldn't that have been a pleasant experience for both of them? she thought with disgust.
"My lady,"
Bess hissed.
"I am coming," Averill muttered. "I just--"
She paused abruptly and gave a startled shriek as Brodie's hand suddenly fastened itself around her wrist. Eyes widening and shooting up the bed, she found herself staring into his bleary gaze.
"Here, lovey, how about a kiss?" he slurred, giving her arm a tug.
"Yer da may no put up much o' a fuss," Aidan said quietly. "He's no a stupid man and, despite the drink, kens things are slippin' away here. Another family takes to its heels every day, moving to greener pastures, and those that remain behind are only awaiting their chance. Half the castle staff is gone, and of those that remain behind--" He shook his head. "Cook is gone, the maids'll no even enter the great hall anymore, and the men avoid it, too...Aye, yer father may be glad to pass the title and responsibility on to ye."
Kade fervently hoped so. While he hadn't spent much time around Eachann Stewart, the man was still his father, and Kade had no wish to commit patricide. But after all he'd learned from Aidan about the state of affairs here, he couldn't simply walk away this time and leave his father in charge either. Stewart was in a bad way.
"Did you say the cook is gone?" Will asked, and the dismay in his voice drew the first smile Kade had managed since sitting down to talk with Aidan. After three years of rotten food and near starvation in that hellish prison, Will had an insatiable appetite. Kade had been amazed at the food he'd seen the man put away since rising from his own sickbed. He'd been even more amazed to find himself matching him bite for bite and was slightly upset to hear there was no cook, himself. But not nearly as forlorn as Will appeared to be.
"Aye," Aidan said, and grinned at Will's expression. "But I ken where he is and suspect he could be convinced to return does the situation change."
"Mayhap ye could--" Kade paused abruptly, eyes shooting upward as a great shrieking and wailing sounded overhead. Before the end of the first shriek, he was on his feet and running, his heart slamming against his chest as a litany of possible reasons for the sounds ran through his mind. The women might have stumbled upon a mouse or some other vermin while preparing the rooms above stairs, or one of them might have had an accident and hurt herself grievously. He was hoping for the former.