Taming the Highland Bride by Lynsay Sands Read Free Book Online

was sure that couldn’t be a good thing.
    “And then your little Merry rushed around taking matters in hand and running d’Aumesbery as if she were already lady here.”
    Alex took note of the name Merry rather than Merewen, but merely asked shortly, “What has she been doing?”
    Bet shrugged mildly. “Doing what a lady does. She’s spoken with Cook and several of the other servants. She’s started arrangements for a feast to follow the wedding tomorrow and—”
    “Tomorrow?” he growled, horror coursing through him. This was all happening too fast.
    “Aye. And now she’s down overseeing the men at their training.”
    Alex stiffened and began irritably, “She has no business—”
    “Go tell it to her , boy,” Bet interrupted dryly, tugging her arm free to turn to the door. “I’ve too much to do to be standing about here while you bellow at me over what your betrothed is getting up to.”
    Alex glared after the old woman as she slid out of the room again, but she paused once in the hall and glanced back to add, “You might be wanting to change your clothes and clean up a bit ere you go looking for her. You fair reek of whiskey, and I doubt that will impress her any. From what I have heard, she’s had enough of that with her father and brothers.”
    Alex glanced down at his tunic and then lifted the material to give himself a sniff as the door closed behind the old nursemaid. His nose immediately wrinkled with distaste. It did reek of whiskey, and it was a bitter, stale smell, too.
    Grimacing, he immediately tore off the tunic and tossed it across the foot of his bed. Alex then moved to the basin of water on the small table by the window to give himself a quick wash before searching out a fresh tunic from one of the two chests that held his belongings. Once satisfied that he was presentable, he then left his room and rushed below stairs.
    Alex had intended to head straight out to the bailey to find his betrothed, but found himself halting on the bottom step to stare at the men presently seated at his trestle table. There were nearly a dozen of them, and every one wore a plaid and looked in need of a good washing. Obviously, these were his betrothed’s brothers and father as well as the soldiers they’d brought with them on the journey. It looked to him as if, on arriving that morning, they’d settled themselves at his table and not moved since except to raise their drinks to their mouths. They were obviously drunk and loud and boisterous with it. He wasn’t pleased, but wasn’t terribly surprised, either. Gossip tended to travel on the wind, often carried by traveling performers as well as salesmen selling spices and other foreign goods. From what he’d heard over the years, Eachann Stewart and his two sons had a reputation for being over-fond of their drink…and apparently his own, and anyone else’s they could get their hands on. His father, James, had not been much for drink himself, and Alex suspected Lord Stewart’s tendency toward drunkenness was part of the reason the friendship had ended, and possibly why his father had not been pushing him to marry Merewen Stewart.
    Thoughts of his betrothed reminded Alex of thetask he’d set himself and he turned toward the door, but had hardly taken a step before he was spotted and hailed. “Oy! Lad, come sit yerself fer a minute and visit with yer new kin.”
    Heaving out a breath at how near he’d been to escaping unnoticed, Alex turned back and reluctantly moved to the table, thinking he’d just explain he was off to find Merry and excuse himself. However, before he could say anything at all, before he’d even quite reached them, the oldest man in the group—Eachann Stewart, he supposed—announced, “’Tis glad I am I’m gettin’ a chance to speak to ye ere our Merry does.”
    “Oh? Why is that?” Alex asked cautiously as he paused. Eachann Stewart appeared to have seen nearly six decades. He was more paunch than shoulders, a rat’s nest