Read Online The Hellion and the Highlander by Lynsay Sands - Free Book Online

However, when he reached out quite suddenly and actually squeezed one of her breasts as if it were a melon he was checking for ripeness, Averill snapped and plowed her fist into his nose.
    The man squealed like a girl, eyes wide, as he grabbed his nose and leapt to his feet.
    Despite her churning stomach, Averill smiled the first smile she had since turning to see Bess holding out her red gown.
    “Why you ungrateful wretch!” Lady Seawellscreeched, leaping to her feet to rush to her boy. “Cyril. Cyril darling, are you all right?” Grabbing his head, she clasped it to her massive bosom and turned on Averill. “You horrible, ungrateful girl! How dare a mealy-faced, red-haired creature like yourself touch my boy?”
    He touched me first, Averill thought, but when she opened her mouth to say so, her rebellious stomach cast out her lunch on the floor at the woman’s feet.
     
    “And then what happened?” Will asked.
    “Aye, finish it, lass,” Kade growled. While he really wanted to go below and hammer Cyril, he also wished to know all that had happened, so he could give him the punishment he deserved. Kade wouldn’t want to merely beat the man and find out he should have killed him.
    Kade’s gaze slid over the woman lying on his bed. He and Will had been talking quietly when Bess had burst into the room and told them that Averill had punched Lord Cyril and all hell had broken out below. He and Will had headed down at once, only to encounter Averill on the stairs. One look at her pallid face and the way she was swaying as she clutched at the rail had distracted him from the shouting below. Leaving her father to deal with Lord Seawell by himself, he and Will had each caught one of Averill’s arms and ushered her up the last few steps. Since his room at the top of the stairs was closest, they’d taken her there.
    Averill now lay flat on her back on the bed he’d occupied this last week, a cold compress over her eyes as she told them what had happened. Much to his fascination she’d done so not only in slurred words but also in most unsweet ones. Kade found himself unable to take his eyes away from the creature in his bed. She was a changeling. Certainly not the sweet, passionless creature who had hovered over him since his waking. It seemed the girl had a temper after all and had a rather varied and vulgar list of curse words rattling around in her head, for she’d used several to describe the loathsome Cyril Seawell.
    “Oh.” Averill waved one hand weakly, then released a gusty sigh. “The old cow was ranting on about how ungrateful I was and how I should be kissing her son’s feet and bathing them with my tongue in gratitude for even considering me to bride, and I was trying to keep down luncheon and dared not open my mouth to respond. However, I was so exceedingly sick to death of the old bitch’s rambling and completely ridiculous rantings—” She paused to sneer with disgust, and muttered, “As if I would lick any part of that addle-pated oaf of a son of hers, let alone his feet.”
    Will’s eyes widened in horror at her words, but Kade found himself grinning as she continued. “And then the old battleaxe snapped, ‘Well? Are you going to apologize for such heathen behavior?’ and I opened my mouth to tell her to sod off. I got the words out, but before I could close mymouth, my lunch spewed out. I got the skirt of her gown.” She sighed at the memory, the bottom of the damp cloth fluttering slightly, then her lips thinned out, and she added, “And I am not sorry. Can you imagine having that mean old harpy for a mother-in-law? Dear God, even without the whiskey to shake my reserve, I could never hold my temper with her.”
    “But Averill, you do not have a temper,” Will protested with dismay, then frowned at the ridiculousness of the claim considering what he’d just heard. “I mean you have never shown a temper before. You have always been sweet and most temperate.”
    “Because Mother