Niels stiffened, dismay sliding up his back. Clearing his throat, he asked warily, “They did?”
“Aye, like the time when ye were sixteen and yer brothers shaved ye bald while ye slept,” Edith added.
Niels felt his jaw tighten and glared at his brothers for telling such embarrassing tales about him.
Looking uncomfortable, Geordie muttered, “Aye, well to be fair, it was no’ that he slept through that so much as he was unconscious,” he admitted. “’Twas a wedding, and the first time he was allowed to drink. Niels was in his cups and that’s really why he did no’ wake up.”
“Really?” she asked with a frown. “Ye shaved him bald while he was unconscious?”
“What other tales did they tell?” Niels asked dryly.
Edith was still frowning at his being shaved bald, but finally said, “They told us about another wedding when they were able to cart ye, bedding and all, out to the bull’s pen. They said they even dropped ye a time or two and yet ye still did no’ wake up, and they left ye lying there in the pen til morn.” Turning back to Geordie and Alick she asked, “Was he in his cups that time too? Is that really why he did no’ wake up?”
“Aye,” Geordie admitted, looking uncomfortable when Niels stared at him.
“Oh, aye!” Tormod said suddenly. “I recall this tale now. I thought it sounded familiar.” Turning to Edith he explained, “Yer father, Laird Drummond, was at the wedding and told it to me when he got back.” Glancing past Edith to Geordie and Alick now he added, “But ye left out the best bits.”
“What did they leave out?” Edith asked with curiosity.
“Well.” Tormod glanced past her again to eye Geordie and Alick as he asked, “Did ye boys no’ then wait around for hours until he finally did wake up and then let the bull loose as Niels tried to drag his bedding out o’ the pen?”
“Ye did no’!” Edith gasped with horror and his two brothers nodded guiltily.
“Aye.” Sitting back, Tormod shook his head. “Laird Drummond said ye laughed yer fool heads off as ye watched it chase yer brother about . . . until Niels ran straight fer ye lads and leapt over the fence right in front o’ ye. The bull chased after him, smashing the fence to pieces, but Niels was still running while the rest o’ ye were standing there with yer fiddles in hand, making perfect targets. He said as how the bull would have mown ye down had Niels no’ turned and run back at yer screams. He said the lad jumped on the bull’s back, grabbed him by the horns and steered him back into the pen and away from harming anyone until the older men could get there and get a couple o’ ropes around the bull. Once they had it under control, Niels got off and out o’ range and they repaired the fence.”
Edith frowned on hearing the end of the tale and turned to Geordie and Alick to say heavily, “Ye did no’ mention that part.”
Both men avoided her gaze and Geordie muttered, “Aye, well . . .”
“What about the story about the piglet ye dressed in a lady’s gown and placed in his bed with him?” Edith asked now, her tone suspicious. “Ye said ye thought it would wake and startle him, but rather than trample all over him as ye expected, the piglet settled right down and cuddled up to Niels and the two slept for hours with him blissfully unaware he was sleeping with a pig.” She raised her eyebrows. “What perchance did ye leave out o’ that tale?”
Niels watched both men squirm briefly, but then decided to put them out of their misery and change the subject. However, as he opened his mouth to do so, Alick blurted, “We’d painted the piglet’s lips and cheeks red, and Conran wrote the name Annie on the pig’s forehead.”
“Annie?” Edith asked curiously. “Why?”
“Because, at the time, Niels had a fancy fer our neighbor, Annie,” Alick admitted reluctantly.
“So ye put her name on a piglet?” Edith asked with dismay. “What if she and her family had come to Buchanan and seen it? Aside from insulting the lass, you would have humiliated yer brother in front of her.” Mouth flattening out, she shook her head and said firmly, “Ye ken, now that I think on it, ye boys were very unkind to yer brother.”
Niels’s mouth had been tightening with each example she’d given of what his brothers had shared with her. But now, as Geordie and Alick began to look dismayed, he began to smile. His brothers were actually looking shamefaced, their heads hanging . . . and it nearly made Niels laugh out loud. He’d done or been a party to tricks as bad or worse against each one of his brothers. They all had. But he’d never had anyone stick up for him like Edith was doing. She was lecturing Geordie and Alick like they were a couple of young lads, still wet behind the ears.
“Shaving off his beautiful hair the way ye did was bad enough,” Edith said now with disgust, and Niels sat a little straighter, his ears perking up at her description of his hair as she continued, “But ye could have killed him with that bull nonsense. And ye’re verra lucky that he troubled himself to save ye from that bull the way he did too. I would have let it tear ye to shreds were it me and I knew ye’d set out to get me gored, fer surely ye must have realized that could happen.”
“Oh, nay, we would no’ have let the bull hurt Niels,” Geordie said at once.
“Aye,” Alick assured her. “Niels was always the fastest runner of us all. We knew he could outstrip the bull, and we surely would have rushed in to save him if the bull had even gotten close to goring him.”
Edith glowered at them for a moment, and then sighed and nodded. “Aye. I ken that. Saidh has told me enough stories of her childhood that I ken how close ye all are. Still, his beautiful hair?” she asked with a wince.
Niels was about to ask her what she liked about his hair when she suddenly peered past Tormod and smiled.
“Any change?” she asked Rory as he approached the table.
Rory shook his head grimly. “Nay. Her color is a bit better, her eyes are back to normal, but she still sleeps. I begin to fear she may never come out of the sleep the drug put her in and may just fade away and slowly die.”
Edith frowned at this news and then whirled toward the kitchen as a scream sounded. When it was followed by a great ruckus of shouting and shrieks, she stood up, obviously intending to investigate, but Niels caught her arm and steered her toward Geordie and Alick, who had also stood up.
“Watch her,” he barked, and hurried toward the kitchen on the heels of Tormod and Rory. He quickly caught up to the pair and surpassed them, reaching the door to the kitchens first. Pushing inside, he frowned at the group of people blocking the entrance, with their backs to the door, unaware that they were in the way. All of them too were now silent, he noted as he began to make his way through the crowd to get to what held their attention. He had to weave through the people to the far end of the kitchen to find the source of the upset, and then he stopped dead and simply stared at the man lying prone on the ground.
“Cawley?”
Niels glanced around sharply at Edith’s voice and scowled at the two men on her heels as she slid past him and rushed to her uncle.
“I told ye to watch her,” he snapped.
“We are,” Geordie said at once. “But as she pointed out, ye did no’ say where we had to watch her, so we watched her all the way in here and we’re watching her still.”
“Speaking o’ which,” Alick said now. “I’m watching her about to get blood all over herself do ye no’ move her away from the body.”
Niels swung back to see that she’d knelt next to her uncle and was indeed about to get her gown bloody. A pool of the dark liquid was now visible, spreading out from under the body. Cursing, he moved to Edith and lifted her away.
“Nay, Niels! Cawley’s hurt,” Edith protested, trying to break free of his hold.
“He’s no’ hurting anymore, lass, he’s dead,” Niels said quietly, scooping her into his arms to carry her from the room.
“But what happened?” she asked sounding bewildered.
“I do no’ ken, lass. Rory’ll examine him and find out,” he assured her.
“But there was blood,” Edith pointed out as if he might have missed that fact.
“Aye,” he murmured, and carried her to the chairs by the fire where Ronson’s grandmother was busy with her mending. The old woman glanced up at their arrival, started to peer down to her needle again, but then blinked and raised her head again to stare at them with surprise as Niels settled in the chair with Edith in his lap and began to chafe her hands.
Frowning, she set down her mending and asked, “What’s the matter? What’s happened? Has she had a fall?”
Niels stopped chafing and peered at the woman with some surprise of his own, amazed that she appeared to be oblivious to the chaos taking place behind her. And then he noted that she had spoken quite a bit louder than necessary, and he realized that the old woman had some hearing issues.
“Nay,” he said finally. “She’s just upset. Cawley’s dead.”
Uncertainty crossed her face briefly, and then Ronson’s grandmother nodded. “Aye. Cawley upsets everyone at some point or other I think. He’s no’ right in the head,” she said, pointing at her own head. Leaning forward, she patted Edith’s knee. “Do no’ let whatever Cawley said upset ye, lass. He does no’ mean it.”