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

be nice were her head not throbbing so. She would wait a few moments, she decided. “What time is it?”
    “Late,” Bess answered abruptly. “Most of the castle has gone to bed.”
    Averill bit her lip and then asked, “Am I in my own bed?”
    A soft chuckle disturbed the air over her head, and Bess said, “Aye, though that Scot fussed about it. He wanted to look after you himself, and did for several hours this afternoon before I suggested ’twas time Will moved you to your own room.”
    “Kade?” she asked with surprise, then groaned again as recollections began to assault her. Memories filled her mind of his holding her hair back and murmuring soothingly to her in Gaelic as she’d retched up the last of her stomach’s contents. “Dear God.”
    “He was gentle with you, and kind,” Bess said, sounding surprised. “He’ll be a good husband.”
    “Husband?” Averill asked with shock, and reached up to tug away the damp cloth to see the maid’s face. She saw two of them, both spinning and dancing and slightly out of focus. It made her head hurt, but her stomach appeared fine at least, she noted, and frowned at the woman. “What are you talking about?”
    “Kade has offered for your hand, and your father accepted. Actually,” Bess added dryly, “he was most grateful for the offer. Your father was lamenting into a mug of whiskey that no one would accept you to wife once this debacle reached court when Kade made his way below stairs and offered for you.”
    Averill stared at the kind old faces dancing before her, her brain incapable of accepting the suggestion. “He did not.”
    “Aye, he did,” Bess assured her, then asked uncertainly, “Is that not good news? I thought you liked the boy.”
    “Aye, I do like him,” Averill admitted. “That is the problem. I cannot possibly marry him.”
    “Eh?” Bess’s double images frowned with confusion. “But if you like him—”
    “Have the contracts been drawn up and signed?”
    “The marriage contracts?” Bess asked, and when Averill nodded, she shook her head. “They are doing those tomorrow. Tonight he just asked and your father agreed, then they celebrated. No doubt your father will have a sore head in the morning as well.”
    “Then it can still be called off,” Averill said with relief, and forced herself to sit up. The room immediately began to move around her, but she ignored it and slid her feet to the floor.
    “Here now, where do you think you’re going?” Bess was on her feet at once, trying to stop her. “And what do you mean, called off? Why the devil would you want to do that? You like him, and he you. What—?”
    “He cannot see straight, Bess,” she pointed out impatiently.
    “Well, I’m not so sure about that, but even so, what does it matter? He apparently likes you well enough to offer.”
    “I would not have him disappointed when his vision clears, and he is able to see me properly,” Averill said unhappily, trying to stand.
    “My lady,” Bess began firmly, pushing her back to sit on the bed. “I am sure he will not be disappointed. In fact—”
    “You cannot be sure,” Averill argued. “And he should at least know what he is getting.”
    “Mayhaps, but—”
    “I shall just go tell him that my hair is red and about the birthmark and my too-small breasts and—”
    “Too-small breasts?” Bess interrupted on almost a shriek. “Where the devil did you get that nonsense?”
    “From Lord Seawell,” she admitted on a sigh. “He seemed to think they were too small. He wasvery disgusted and couldn’t stop staring or trying to touch them.”
    “Oh, aye, disgusted he was,” she said dryly and rolled her eyes, but she also stepped out of the way. “Go on then. Go explain to the Scot that your hair’s as red as a setting sun, that you’ve a tiny strawberry on your cheek, and that your breasts are too small. But I’ve no doubt he already knows all this and will still have you.”
    “Mayhap,” Averill