Page 56 of Highlander’s Dangerous Gambler

Because now he needed it more than ever. They all did.

As the scene faded, the sound of the men's banging became louder. All around, there was confusion. Voices yelled, and footsteps encroached.

All Scott could remember was the look on his nephew's face—wide and terrified—as he burrowed into his mother's arms.

Then, the door fell open.

Drenched in sweat, Scott sat bolt upright in the bed. His breaths were jerky, and it took a while to stop himself panting as he looked around.

"Och, nay, ye wee strumpet, I'm nae gonna hurt ye!"

A voice from outside crashed into the room. Instantly, Scott was aware of a commotion from the hallway. A strained female voice was pleading.

"No, no, sir, I cannae..."

There came another flurry of movement in which Scott was not sure what was happening but had an unpleasant feeling he might guess.

Still sweating, he leaped from the bed before racing to the door. There, on the landing, was Brodie and a timid housemaid. For a moment, Scott wondered if he even should have come out. Perhaps it was none of his business, but then seeing the look on the lass's face, his heart sank.

"Ah, Scott!"

Brodie turned toward him, slurring slightly. He smiled loosely at Scott. From the first glance, Scott could tell he was in his cups. The animated expression gave it away. And besides, Scott could smell it on him practically a mile off.

The girl, for her part, was standing apologetically, as if she had been caught doing something wrong and expected to be scolded. Or worse.

Smiling gently, Scott attempted to reassure her.

"Ye alright, lassie?" he asked quietly to the nervous girl. The housemaid nodded quickly, but Scott noticed she never looked up or met him in the eye.

That was all the answer Scott needed. Inside, a surge raised up. Anger choked at his throat.

Just like in his dream, there was no protecting lowly women from highborn males.

If the person standing next to him had been any other than his laird's son, he would have rammed him into the nearest wall. As it was, he had to be more subtle.

"Och, of course she's alright, lad!" tutted Brodie. He looked affronted and thwarted at the same time. Scott could tell he had come along at just the right time.

Already, the girl behind him was slinking away.

"It's just a wee jest between the lass an' me. She was telling me a wee tale that had me howling!" Brodie winked very clumsily, although it was hard to tell who it was meant for, as his eye swung around wildly.

Bit by bit, the timid housemaid edged away.

"It's nothing. I'm sorry, sir," she whispered, her eyes cast down.

Finally, Brodie nodded. "Off to bed wi' ye, lass!" he said, bestowing his largesse upon the girl.

The maid needed no second telling; immediately, she scurried away, bolting like some frightened beast.

"An' sleep tight, wee lassie. Maybe I'll come an' tuck ye up tight!" Brodie grinned, although the smile froze when he saw Scott's face. "Och, dinnae fash, lad. Ye've got a face like a skelpit backside. It's just a wee joke!"

"Aye," said Scott unsurely. He practically bit his tongue in two. Still, he watched as the serving girl disappeared down the hall and vanished out of sight. Then, forcing himself to smile, he turned to Brodie.

"Maybe ye'd be best off getting some shut-eye yersel’?"

It was a bold suggestion. Scott knew it was not really his place to make such comments, but then again, neither was punching Brodie's teeth down his throat. He smiled vaguely at his drunk boss.

For a minute, Brodie looked unsure, as if he was going to say something. Squaring up to him, Scott prepared for a reaction. Inside, his senses tingled and burned. Keeping the laird's son in check was quite a job, one that his father had almost wholly abdicated. But just as Scott had got ready to swing at him, Brodie's face crumpled.