desire to have a drunk under his command. Dependence on drink madea soldier sloppy and undependable and like to get himself or someone else killed.
“I’m getting a crick in me neck staring up at ye,” the Stewart complained, and then turned to give the son seated in the chair next to his own a push. “Get out o’ the chair, lad, and let our host sit with us.”
“There is no need for that,” Alex said quietly, having no desire to join the men. “I was just going out to oversee my men at practice.”
“But, lad, like I told ye, Merry’ll tend to it. She’s a fair hand with the men.”
Alex stiffened. “’Tis my place to—”
“There’s no need,” Eachann interrupted. “Her mother raised her well, Merry’s a fine helpmate. She’ll tend everything do ye wish it. She does everything at Stewart.”
“And what do you do?” he asked curiously.
“Whatever we wish,” Gawain said with a laugh.
“Aye. ’Tis a grand life ye’re headed for,” Brodie informed him, and then snickered as if that were a joke. It brought a glare from his father.
“ ’Tis a grand life ye’re headed for,” Eachann insisted quietly when Brodie fell solemn. “My Merry’s a hard worker. She’ll step in and tend whatever needs tending.”
“Which would be grand if she did so without glaring at us like we’ve done something wrong,” Brodie put in, appearing irritated at the compliment to his missing sister.
“Aye,” Gawain agreed, and warned, “she has a glare that’ll singe the hair off yer arse.”
“And then there’s her fish face,” Brodie muttered, gaining an elbow in the ribs from his father. Unsteady as he was, it nearly sent the younger man tumbling to the rushes before he caught at the table to save himself.
“Fish face?” Alex asked with bewilderment.
“Aye,” Gawain answered as his brother struggled to sit up straight. “She narrows her eyes and purses her lips like this and looks just like a fish when she’s disapproving or—” His words came to an end on a yelp as his father now slammed his other elbow into him. While Brodie had managed to save himself, Gawain couldn’t and landed in the rushes. He burst out laughing as if his state of inebriation were a grand joke rather than the sad showing it was, and then his laughter faded and his eyes closed and he began to snore.
“Don’t trouble yerself about him,” Laird Stewart slurred with unconcern. “We’ve been celebrating yer upcoming nuptials since arriving and he’s in his cups. He’ll be fine and fit for the ceremony tomorrow though, I’m sure.”
Alex shifted his gaze to the older man as he continued.
“As for Merry, aye, she glares and makes strange faces, but that’s the worst o’ it, and that’s damned good by anyone’s standards, especially when ye get the benefit o’ her tending to everything fer ye in return. She’ll be a good wife to ye.”
Alex’s gaze moved from Eachann to Brodie and back. Brodie was scowling with resentment, obviously not pleased at the compliments to his sister. As for Eachann, he was looking a tad sad and regretful, and Alex suspected the man was realizing what he was losing. Who was going to run Stewartwhen these men returned and slipped completely into their cups? He knew from what little gossip he’d heard over the years that the burden had fallen to Merry since her mother’s death, and suspected her father, at least, knew what they were losing. It made him wonder why the old man had lied to get her there and not done everything he could to delay losing her to this marriage instead. Alex wanted to think it was because the man had some sense of decency left in him and wished to see her happy and married despite the burden losing her would be, but he suspected the truth was he’d merely bowed to the wishes and demands of his sons, who were obviously happy at the prospect of being rid of her.
Aye, Alex thought, glares and strange faces were little enough in response to the trouble