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Authors: Lynsay Sands

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BOOK: Taming the Highland Bride
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“How long did it last?” Merry asked.

Godfrey grimaced. “All night long. ’Twas near dawn ere the excitement eased enough that I could fall asleep and then ’twas from exhaustion.”

“Aye,” the maid said with remembered irritation. “I lay under the wagon listening to him rolling restlessly about until dawn. It made fer a miserable day o’ noddin’ in the wagon, I can tell ye.”

Merry murmured sympathetically, but her mind was on her husband’s behavior the night before. She couldn’t ask him how he’d been feeling, but judging by his behavior he’d been suffering the same thing Godfrey had the other night after drinking his wine. And it, too, had appeared to wane near dawn. Although she couldn’t say Alex might not have reached for her again on returning to the tent had he not been knocked out, she didn’t think he would have. The last time he’d bedded her had been less urgent than ere that. Less driven.

She’d barely come to the conclusion that someone had indeed been dosing her husband with something since their wedding night when her mind began to niggle with difficulties to this theory.

“So, I gather ye’re thinkin’ yer husband wasna drunk all those nights, but dosed by someone?” Una asked, intruding on her thoughts.

“Aye,” she admitted uncertainly.

“I hear a ‘but,’” Una said curiously.

Merry shook her head unhappily. “Well, it would seem so. He had the slurring and clumsiness pretty much every night fer the last three weeks straight and yet claims he did not drink. And ye did say that ye noted his eyes dilated.”

“But he didna bed ye those three weeks, either,”
the maid pointed out. Merry noted the way Godfrey’s eyebrows flew up at this news and grimaced, thinking that sometimes it was most inconvenient to have a maid living so closely and knowing so much.

“Aye, that is what I was just thinking. While he had the other symptoms, he didna attack me as Godfrey did you.”

The maid glanced to the boy and shrugged, “Yer husband is a bigger man. Mayhap it has a lesser effect on him.”

“Mayhap,” Merry murmured. That could explain matters…except that last night he had acted much differently. And on the night they’d consummated the wedding, too, though that time while he’d reached for her again and again he’d not been nearly as aggressive as last night. He’d been more leisurely then and less driven and frightening than the man who had carried her into the tent and fallen on her with determination last night.

But who would want to dose her husband with something that would make him overactive in bed? Merry thought unhappily. In truth, it was something a wife would do to a disinterested husband, and she had neither that problem nor the desire to dose him.

“What has this to do with His Lordship being attacked?” Godfrey asked suddenly, and Merry rubbed her forehead with her fingers as she recognized another flaw in her theory. If someone had dosed her husband with something that made him a ravenous lover, why would they then attack him and try to drag him off?

“I dinna ken,” she admitted wearily. “I just thought surely the attacks and the dosing must be connected, but in truth, that makes little sense.”

“None of it makes much sense,” Una put in irritably. “Why would anyone wish to dose the man with something to make him an insatiable animal anyway? Are ye sure ye havena just mixed up yer herbs and accidentally made a tonic that—”

“The only time I have given me husband anything was the night he was felled by the boulder, and he was fine that night,” Merry interrupted with a bit of snap to her voice.

“Aye,” Godfrey said apologetically, and then added, “But you did mix me up that tonic and that is when I—”

“It must have been something already in the wine,” Merry insisted. When Godfrey didn’t look convinced, she threw up her hands with exasperation and moved to grab her medicinal bag. While Godfrey and Una watched, she opened it and sorted through the contents until she found the two herbs she’d used to mix up a tonic for him. Merry moved back to hold it out beneath his nose. “This is what I used on you.”

“Ugh.” Godfrey grimaced and backed away. “Aye. I recognize the stink and it tastes just as bad.”

“Aye, well, this is what I gave ye, and both are only to help build yer blood to fight illness. Neither wid make ye attack Una,” Merry said firmly.

Godfrey hesitated and then said, “Are you sure? I mean, mayhap you have simply mixed up two plants.”

“I havena,” she insisted impatiently, and then
added, “Besides, do ye no’ think Alex wid ha’e noticed these in his ale did I put it in?”

“Oh, aye, definitely,” Godfrey muttered with disgust.

“So now ye’re sayin’ he wasna drugged?” Una asked.

“I am sayin’ he wasna drugged with this,” Merry responded with exasperation.

“Aye, but would he not have tasted if his ale was off of a night?” Godfrey asked suddenly. “Surely he would have realized?”

“Not all tonics taste as bad as this. With some plants and herbs ye need so little he may no’ ha’e noticed a difference,” she said patiently, and wished she had a better grasp of herbs and could figure out what exactly had been used on him. Her mother had taught her what she would need to know, healing herbs. Her knowledge didn’t go beyond that.

The rustle of the tent flap drew her gaze around to see that Gerhard had returned and was entering. Merry dumped her herbs back into the bag and closed it with a little jerk on the tie string.

“I have told the men we will be staying here until Alex recovers. I have also set two men to guard the tent and arranged for two more to relieve them during the night.”

“That willna be necessary,” Merry said quietly. “Ha’e the men start breaking camp. We’ll leave as soon as ’tis done.”

Gerhard wasn’t the only one startled by this announcement. Both Una and Godfrey turned surprised glances her way as well.

“Twice now my husband has been knocked un
conscious, and this night someone then tried to drag him off. I am not waiting for a third attempt where they might succeed in making off with him,” Merry said before any of them could protest. “And I think ’tis better do we get him to Donnachaidh where the Devil can see to his well-being until we get this sorted out.”

“But he cannot travel while unconscious. And I think ’twould be safer did we remain here and keep him guarded.”

“What if one of his guards is the one behind this?” Merry asked, and the man stiffened as if she’d slapped him.

“None of Alex’s men would attack him like this,” he assured her staunchly. “He’s well-loved by his people.”

“And yet twice now he has been attacked,” she pointed out.

“Then it must be a bandit or villain who is following our group,” he said firmly. “None of our people would harm a hair on his head.”

“It had to have been someone from d’Aumesbery,” she said grimly. “Only someone from there could have been dosing him the three weeks before we left on this journey.”

“Aye, well, that did not start until
you
arrived.”

Una gasped in outrage at the words, but Merry reached out and caught her arm to warn her to silence. What the man said was true and she could not blame him for his suspicions. In fact, she could only think a healthy dose of suspicion on both their parts would be a good thing if it kept her husband alive while they sorted this out.

“Do ye trust Godfrey?” Merry asked suddenly.

Gerhard and Godfrey both looked startled at the question, but the man glanced to the boy and nodded slowly. “Aye. He’s a good lad and looks up to Alex.”

Merry nodded. “Then we will put Alex in the wagon with Godfrey to watch over him. I want no one near him without Godfrey present until this is settled. But we
will
travel on to Donnachaidh.”

Gerhard was silent for a moment, and she knew he wanted to protest, but she was his lady now, in charge while Alex was incapacitated and could not give orders. He had to obey her. Finally, he nodded slowly. “So it shall be.”

T
is Edda”

Merry tilted her head and peered at Evelinde Duncan. Alex’s sister was tiny, blond, and lovely. She was also very upset at the moment and had been since the d’Aumesbery party had ridden into the Donnachaidh bailey with her unconscious brother in the wagon.

Merry had never had a sister before, but thought she might enjoy having Evelinde as one now that they were related by marriage. After only a half hour in her presence, she already liked her a great deal. The woman was warm, loving, intelligent, and welcoming. She also obviously loved her husband,
Cullen Duncan, better known as the Devil of Donnachaidh. And that Devil loved her in return. Neither of them was shy about showing their mutual affection.

However, Evelinde also obviously loved her brother, Alex, and appeared just as concerned as Merry by everything she’d learned since they’d seen Alex settled in a room above stairs with Godfrey.

“Aye,” Evelinde said firmly. “Edda has to be the one behind all of this.”

Merry noted both Una and Evelinde’s own maid, Mildrede, nodding in agreement from where they sat a little along the table. Gerhard, and Cullen were there as well, and all of them were openly listening, but Merry didn’t mind. It seemed to her that the more of them who were working on this problem, the better their chance of solving it. She considered the woman’s words for a moment, but then merely said, “Edda warned me that ye hated her and with reason. She said she was terribly unhappy at d’Aumesbery and acted terrible to ye.”

“Aye, she was,” Evelinde said quietly. “Both to myself and the servants and people of d’Aumesbery.”

Merry took in her expression and then changed the subject by saying, “Well, I wish I kenned what he’s been being dosed with and why. I suspect that would shed some light on matters.”

“Just a moment.” Evelinde was suddenly on her feet and rushing for the kitchens.

Merry stared after her with surprise and then glanced to Cullen in question. The large man merely shrugged with indulgent amusement and picked up
his ale. A bare moment after that, the kitchen door banged open and Evelinde rushed back, dragging an older woman behind her.

“This is Cullen’s Aunt Biddy. Mine now, too,” she added with an affectionate smile toward the woman as she urged her to sit at the table. Evelinde then sat down herself and turned to Merry to say, “Biddy is ever so smart. She may be able to sort out what Alex has been given.”

“And then again, I may no’,” Biddy inserted dryly. “But I’ll do me best. First, tell me what makes ye think he’s being dosed to begin with.”

Merry nodded and quickly gave a brief summary of Alex’s symptoms each night the last three weeks, and then told her how Godfrey had acted the night she’d mixed him a tonic in Alex’s wine, as well as her husband’s aggressive behavior the night after. When she finished, the older woman pursed her lips thoughtfully and stared off into space for a long time before shaking her head and saying, “I ken naught that’ll cause all those symptoms. It must be a combination of two or three things. Something to increase his ardor, something to offset his self-control, and something else to boost his energy levels so he could…er…perform for such an extended period. And from what ye’ve said ’twas most like put in his ale at sup.”

“Nay. At least not all the time,” Merry said solemnly. “Alex suspected as much and apparently refrained from drinking anything at all for two nights in a row and yet suffered the same symptoms. Because of that he’d decided he was indeed fighting
off an illness. ’Tis only when I used his wine to make Godfrey’s tonic and he reacted so poorly that it became clear he was being dosed.”

“That night it was in his wine?”

“It must ha’e been. ’Twas his wine I gave to Godfrey.”

“But no’ yours?”

“Nay,” Merry said at once and then bit her lip.

“What is it?” Evelinde asked, leaning closer.

“Well, I had barely touched me wine ere Gerhard came to fetch us about me mare, and I didna get a chance to drink any when I got back.” She shrugged helplessly.

“So the bottle may have been dosed,” Evelinde said thoughtfully.

“That night, aye,” she agreed. “But his drink could no ha’e been the culprit the two nights he refrained from drinking.”

“Could it have been in his food? Or in a drink he consumed ere he sat to table?” Evelinde suggested and then asked, “Does he have an ale or mead on the practice field or at the inn ere the sup?”

“I doona ken,” Merry admitted unhappily. In truth, she knew very little about her husband’s habits and behavior…at least at home. They had spent a great deal of time together during the journey, but at d’Aumesbery, Merry had been busy getting used to her new home and people. While she knew Alex spent his days working hard, running his home and ruling his people, she had spent little time with him there and had no idea what he ate and drank away from the d’Aumesbery table.

Evelinde was frowning, but now nodded sol
emnly and suggested, “Mayhap ’twould be easier to figure out who is behind it than where or when.”

Merry made a face at the suggestion. That did not seem the easier task to her. She had been at d’Aumesbery only three weeks and hardly knew the people. Well, other than her maid Una and Lady Edda, whom she’d spent a lot of time with. Keeping these concerns to herself, she asked, “And how are we to sort that out?”

Evelinde shrugged and asked, “Well, who benefited by his being dosed?”

“Well, I’m no’ sure who would benefit from the accidents, but the only person who has been benefiting from the potion he’s being dosed with is me,” she said wryly, and then flushed as wicked grins covered every face at the table. Even Cullen Duncan was grinning, a twinkle in his eye. Merry ignored that and added, “But I didna dose him. And none o’ this makes any sense. Why would anyone dose him like that and then try to kill him?”

“Well, he was injured not killed,” Evelinde said slowly.

“Only by chance and his moving the first time,” Merry pointed out grimly. “He very easily
could
have been killed. The boulder was huge and would have crushed his skull.”

“But it did not,” Evelinde pointed out quietly. “And his moving may have put him more in the way than he would have been had he stayed still. Mayhap they were hoping just to knock him out as they did later. Perhaps the intention has always been to kidnap him.”

“Kidnap him?” Merry echoed dubiously.

“Aye.” Evelinde appeared to be warming to the idea. “D’Aumesbery is wealthy. They may have planned to demand a rich purse in exchange for his safe return.”

“Then why have they been dosing him?” Merry asked with bewilderment.

Evelinde bit her lip and then shook her head and suggested, “Are you sure the two are connected? Mayhap whoever dosed him was not behind the attacks.”

Merry sighed unhappily at the suggestion. She had hoped with them all thinking on it, they might be able to sort out the matter, but it seemed to her they were no further ahead now than when they’d started talking.

“My lady!”

Merry stiffened and whirled on the bench at that strident shout. A panicked Godfrey stood at the top of the stairs, shouting his little heart out for her. The moment he saw he had her attention, he shrieked, “My lord is up. I told him you said he was to stay abed, but he will not listen.”

She was on her feet, and rushing for the stairs at once.

 

Alex paused at the foot of the bed. His legs were shaking and threatening to give out, and he was so weak that his braies felt heavy as he lifted them off the chest at the end of the bed, but he rolled his eyes and muttered, “Tale carrier,” as he heard Godfrey’s shouts from the hall. The lad had tried to keep him abed himself, and—in truth—might have succeeded had he used more than words.

Alex grimaced with disgust at his weakness. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, but it must have been at least two days for them to have arrived at Donnachaidh, and that was where Godfrey had said they were. He’d apparently been unconscious the last part of the journey, carried in the back of a wagon with Godfrey next to him, his wife riding on one side of the wagon and Gerhard on the other. All three of them watching him like a hawk, Godfrey had said. The lad had also said Alex had started to stir shortly after noon on the first day and Merry had dosed him with something to make him sleep so that he wouldn’t suffer during the journey. Gerhard had apparently protested, but as Lady d’Aumesbery, Merry was in charge when Alex was out of commission and she had prevailed, so he’d been dosed then, and several times afterward until they arrived.

He didn’t know whether to thank or berate Merry for it. Alex didn’t like the idea, but on the other hand, if his head was pounding as badly as this two days after the attack, he could only think he would have been suffering even worse these last two days had he been conscious. Still, he was awake now, and competent to make his own decisions, and he was getting up whether Godfrey got Merry up here to order him back to bed or not.

He was teetering on one leg and trying to get his other into the braies when Godfrey came rushing back into the room. Alex paused to send a glare the lad’s way, and then gave up the task altogether to hold the braies in front of his groin as a herd of women followed a moment later. There were at least
five of them. Merry and his sister, Evelinde, were at the head of the pack, but they were followed by both their maids as well as another woman he didn’t recognize. Alex stared at the small crowd askance and thought they must have flown up the stairs to reach the room so quickly.

It was the last thought he had a chance to think. Alex was suddenly surrounded by women who proceeded to peck and poke at him, plucking at his braies, trying to get them away, tugging at his arm to move him back toward the bed, and each of them berating him at the same time in an incomprehensible babble that just made his head hurt worse.

Before he knew it, Alex found his hands empty and his bare arse back in the bed as the five angry women all fussed and tugged at the linens to cover him up, still berating him for thinking himself strong enough to be up and about.

It was deep male laughter from the door that broke up the party. Alex glanced that way, hoping for reinforcement, and froze as he took in the man in the doorway. This could be none other than the Devil of Donnachaidh. Alex had always thought of himself as a good-sized man. He was usually up to half a foot taller than those around him, but this man was taller still, and he suspected a touch wider as well. The top of Cullen Duncan’s head barely cleared the frame at the top of the door, and he was wide enough to fill it from side to side with little room left over. Despite his size, the man moved with the grace of a panther, however, Alex noted as Cullen Duncan eased into the room, his eyes taking in the scene. Amusement still curved his lips, but
there was a serious look in his eyes that suggested it would be smart to obey as he surveyed the women and ordered, “Out.”

Evelinde apparently was not intimidated by her husband. She scowled at the order and hurried to his side, saying, “But Cullen, we need to speak with Alex and find out what is going on.”

Much to Alex’s amazement, rather than becoming annoyed, the Devil’s gaze softened as it settled on his wife and the man smiled and bent to press a kiss to her lips before straightening to say, “I will talk to him and get to the bottom of it.”

“But—” Evelinde began, and fell silent when he raised a hand for silence.

“I let ye talk to yer new sister. Now let me talk to me new brother.” When Evelinde hesitated and then cast a worried glance to Alex, he added, “And I’ll make sure he stays abed.”

His little sister relaxed and beamed at the great behemoth as if he’d just said the most clever thing in the world, Alex noted with amazement. She even then ushered the other women out of the room, including Merry, assuring her, “Cullen will sort it all out for us.”

Alex watched the door close and then turned his gaze to his new brother-in-law. He peered at him silently, considering what he’d taken in in the last few moments, and then announced with some surprise, “She loves you.”

“Aye.” Cullen grinned widely, and then his expression became more solemn and he added soberly, “And I, her.”

Alex merely nodded. The mutual love was ob
vious, and it seemed all his worry had been for naught. He smiled wryly and sat up to swing his feet off the bed, only to fall back with a grunt of surprise as Cullen quickly closed the distance between them and pushed him back flat.

“Keep yerself in that bed, else ye’ll be wrestlin’ with me,” the Devil growled. He then smiled crookedly and added, “I did promise me wife, and I doona break me promises.”

Alex considered the man and briefly toyed with the idea of making him keep him there, but then gave it up. Any other time he might do so just for the fun of it—and to see who would win—but there was no doubt who would win at the moment. He wasn’t at his best and his head was a bit sore, so Alex nodded and then shifted around to sit up in the bed when the other man straightened.

“Good. As much as I enjoy a good battle, ye’re in no condition to be much of a challenge.” Cullen moved to grab one of the chairs by the fire. He placed it next to the bed and settled on it to peer at Alex.

Several moments of silence passed as the two men sized each other up, and then Cullen asked, “How was Tunis?”

“Hot and bloody,” Alex said dryly and then smiled when the man laughed.

They shared a smile, and then Cullen said, “I gather ye’ve a bit o’ trouble at d’Aumesbery. I can sympathize, we had a bit o’ trouble when I first got yer sister here, too. I’m glad to say ’tis all tended now though,” he assured him, and then asked, “So, diya want to hear what’s been going on here, or tell me what’s been goin’ on with ye first?”

Alex was silent for a moment, thinking that it was a fair trade and he just might come to like this man, and then he suggested Cullen tell his troubles first. He listened silently as his new brother-in-law spoke of what had gone on when Evelinde had first arrived at Donnachaidh. The man didn’t pull any punches or hold back anything, admitting to faults and his own blindness in some matters without mercy for himself. In fact, he was incredibly honest about all that had occurred, and Alex found his eyebrows flying up several times as the story progressed, and then lowering with concern. But then it was done, and it was his turn.

BOOK: Taming the Highland Bride
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