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"A pitcher of whiskey on an empty stomach first thing in the morn will do that to you." The woman didn't sound terribly sympathetic. "And you gave yourself a nice goose egg on your forehead when you fell on your face, too. I'm sure that's not helping. Here, sit up and get this into you. It'll help ease the pain."
"Fell on my face?" Alex growled, eyes popping open. His gaze landed on the wooden mug she was holding out and, after the briefest hesitation, he sat up to take it.
"Aye," she assured him. "Right at the feet of your betrothed, too. Made a fine first impression I'm sure. Drink it," she added, sounding a bit impatient when he started to lower the mug full of vile-smelling liquid, his mouth opening on another question.
Alex briefly considered reminding the woman of her place and that he was her lord, but knew from experience that neither reminder would impress her. It was hard to impress someone with your power and position when she'd changed your nappies as a babe. Grimacing, he didn't even bother attempting to argue with the stubborn old woman, but quickly downed the drink. It tasted as bad as it smelled, of course. He wasn't surprised. Bet's medicinals had always been the most god-awful tasting brews, but they also usually worked damned well. He would have been grateful for her vile concoctions and less-than-tender mercies more than a time or two in Tunis.
Managing to down the entire contents in two healthy swallows, Alex grimaced at the taste as he handed the mug back and then growled, "What was that about my betrothed being here?"
"She and her kin arrived just as Grefin was making his attempt to yank out your bad tooth," Bet announced, and there was no mistaking the amusement on her wrinkled face.
Alex ignored it for now, instead scowling as the fuzzy memory of the morning's misery slid through his mind. Just poking at the tooth had caused agony, but the blacksmith's clamping his pincers on it and trying to yank it from his jaw had been hell. The pain of it had been so shockingly fierce that Alex hadn't, at first, even been able to find the breath to roar his agony. But then something had distracted the men holding him, and he'd managed to break free and grab Grefin by the throat to bring his torture to an end. The blacksmith had dropped his pincers and tried to back away, and the moment he wasn't fiddling with his tooth, Alex had got his breath back and roared his fury as he'd followed the man, stumbling to his feet before the two of them had tumbled to the floor.
He could only think it was a good thing he'd roared because that had caught his men's attention and recalled them to their duty. It was probably the only thing that had saved Grefin a good thrashing. Alex also decided it had been a good thing Grefin had insisted on their waiting half an hour for the whiskey he'd downed to take effect before making the attempt. If there was a worse pain than that he'd suffered while numbed by whiskey, Alex had no desire to experience it. Honestly, he'd taken sword wounds in Tunis that had hurt less.
The thought made him search around inside his mouth for the tooth in question. Relief slid through him when he felt a hole where the tooth had once been.
"He got the tooth out once you were in your bed," Bet announced. "Grefin said it was much easier to yank out when you weren't fighting him. It only took him a moment once you were unconscious."
Alex grimaced at the claim and shook his head. Those vague memories of Grefin's struggling to remove his tooth down in the great hall and then his attacking him were the last things he recalled. He had no recollection at all of Merewen Stewart's arrival. "Why is my betrothed here?"
"To marry you, why else?" Bet said with a shrug as she began to put away her pouch of medicinals.
Alex scowled at the woman. "She should have waited for me to go to her, not--"
"You were dragging your feet over the business, were you not?" Bet asked dryly. "It seems she grew weary of the waiting and came to see the deed done."
Alex pursed his lips with displeasure. He wasn't ready to marry. He'd planned to take the time to get matters in order here and then visit his sister. After that, perhaps on the way home, he might have stopped to claim the wench. Or not. There was no rush. Apparently, she didn't see it that way.
"Although," Bet continued when he remained silent, "from what I've seen and heard, I suspect it was really her kin who are eager to be rid of the chit."
"Well, I am not surprised," Alex muttered, feeling worry rise up in him as he thought of the things he'd heard about his future wife. Noting the raised eyebrows Bet had turned his way, he explained, "She's called the Stewart Shrew."
Bet nodded and commented dryly, "So you said when you saw her."
"What?" he asked sharply.
"When she arrived and you first saw her, I'm told your greeting was to say she didn't look much like a shrew or some such thing," Bet explained, her eyes now twinkling with silent mirth.
"I didn't!" Alex said with shock, and felt a frisson of horror slide down the back of his neck when the old woman nodded. While he'd spent much of the last three years surrounded by men, he'd retained enough of his training to know greeting his intended bride that way was beyond rude. It was hardly likely to encourage good relations with the woman.
"Aye, you did," Bet said, and added dryly, "Not the most welcoming greeting you could have offered your future wife."
"Dear God," he breathed in dismay, and then asked, "What did she do?"
Bet chuckled openly as she answered, "I was not there. I heard all of this from one of the maids, but I gather while she looked unimpressed, all she said was thank you...and then you fell flat on your face and she had your men pick you up and cart you up here to bed. That's when Grefin finished pulling out your tooth," she added. "After that, the men left you to sleep off the whiskey."
Alex sank back in the bed, his mind whirling with dismay, but then sat up abruptly and asked, "What time is it?"
"Nearing the dinner hour," Bet answered, putting away the last of her things and moving toward the door. "I thought you might be stirring by now and need a tonic to help your head. Besides, it seemed best to wake you before the girl completely takes over the castle."
"What?" He tossed aside the linens that had been covering him. Much to Alex's relief, he was fully clothed and, despite his aching head, could give chase to the old woman as she tried to slip out of his room on that cryptic comment.
"Get back here, Bet," he growled, rushing forward to catch the door as she tried to pull it closed behind her. Taking the woman by the arm, he tugged her back into the room, careful to be gentle with her frail old bones. He wasn't at all surprised when she came willingly. Knowing her, she was probably enjoying the whole thing. Bet had always had a bit of the devil in her and had enjoyed a good stirring up. "Explain what you meant by that. How is she taking over my castle?"
"Well, once she'd ordered the men to take your 'worthless hide' up to your room--"
"Worthless?" Alex snapped with affront.
"Aye. That's apparently what she said," Bet informed him with a grin that displayed several gaps where teeth had once resided. "And once the men had carted you out, Edda appeared and the two women put their heads together for a bit."
Alex stiffened at this news. He 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."
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