Page 7 of Highlander of Wrath (Highland Brides Secret Society #1)

7

“ T here ye are,” Ava said the moment she rounded the corner.

Unease coursed through Bridget and caused her heart to flutter and pound against her ribcage.

Bridget stared at Ewan and waited for him to make his next move. He leaned back and cleared his throat as the smirk on his face widened.

“Cousin,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Me Laird,” Ava said, a hint of smugness in her tone. “Pray tell what is happenin’ here?”

“Nothin’,” Ewan answered as his gaze remained locked on Bridget. She stared back at him with curiosity. “I believe I have a prior engagement—if ye’ll excuse me.”

Bridget watched as Ewan slogged down the hallway as though he’d just lost his prized hunting dog. Bridget flashed a smile at Ava, uncertain how she would explain the awkward situation.

“I dinnae want to ken,” Ava said, holding her hands up in surrender. “I was just comin’ to ask if ye wanted to come to the village wit’ us?”

“I don’t think so,” Bridget said, hoping to find her way back to her room and have a few moments alone. Her conversation with the Laird was intense, and she still had her trunks to put away.

“It’ll be fun, ye’ll see. There’s a cocked-eyed rooster ye’ve got to see. It’s the funniest thin’ tryin’ to feed it.”

Bridget studied Ava for a moment. The uneasiness in her stomach seemed to settle as she realized that, despite their teasing, they still wanted her around.

“I don’t know. Shopping for dresses has never really been a fun event for me. Besides, I still must put away my trunks.”

“Ye’ve got yer trunks back? That’s wonderful news,” Ava said.

“The Laird got them back, can you believe it?” Bridget asked as she glanced at the trunk in her arms. “So, I can’t really go anywhere until I’ve found a place to put these away.”

“Nonsense, get Gail to put them away and let us get out of here,” Ava insisted as she rubbed her hands together in wicked glee. “Besides, ye heard the Laird. He wants ye to pick out a dress, and that’s exactly what ye’ll do,” she said, looping her arm through Bridget’s and pulling her down the hallway to the front door.

Bridget couldn’t help but giggle as she tried to keep up with Ava’s fast pace. Her laughter filled the hallway.

“What are you doing?” Bridget asked as they stopped in one room after another.

“Lookin’ for a servant. I swear they are never around when ye actually need them.”

“I don’t need a servant to put my things in a room,” Bridget said. “I’m more than capable of doing it myself.”

“I’m sure ye are, but the carriage is waitin’ for us. And I dinnae ken about ye, but I’d rather spend the day in the village rather than in this stuffy old castle,” Ava said. “That’s why I live on the edge of the castle between the village and here.”

“That’s remarkable,” Bridget said. “You sound like you’d be a perfect candidate for a membership to a secret club if you were so inclined.”

“What’s that ye say? A secret society? For what? Makin’ dresses or learnin’ how to cook better?”

“Neither. It’s more for open-minded women. Are you interested?” Bridget asked as they made their way to the stairs.

She glanced eagerly at Ava, wondering what she’d think of joining. It was easy for Bridget to picture Ava sitting there beside her and the others.

“Sounds bonnie. I’d love to hear more about it, I would, but we’re on our way out. Would ye like to come? Maybe give us more time to chat about this club of yers,” Ava said.

As they started to ascend the staircase, Gail came scrambling down.

“Gail,” Ava called out, stopping the girl in her tracks. “Take Bridget’s trunks to her room.”

Gail glanced at Bridget for a moment before collecting the trunks without so much as a protest or backtalk. A huge smile stretched across Ava’s lips.

“There, problem solved. No more excuses, let’s go,” she said as she grabbed Bridget and raced to the foyer.

As they pushed through the double doors and stepped out into the morning air, Bridget couldn’t help but feel as if a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She had finally met a like-minded person to whom she could relate. It took every ounce of Bridget’s resolve not to start openly discussing the secret society. She knew the rules and understood that, despite its size, it was highly frowned upon to mention it to outsiders. Perhaps that is what had lured her to embrace the experience.

For now, though, she was content enjoying the Scottish air that swirled around her and played with the loose strands of her hair.

“Have ye ever smelled anythin’ so wonderful? It’s like Heaven’s dew comin’ down to grace these old moors,” Ava said, raising her hands to the sky and spinning around.

Bridget heard the soft clearing of a throat, and, for a moment, she thought her mother had found her. When she spun around to find Martha behind her, she nearly collapsed from relief.

“Good gracious, are ye all right?” Martha asked. “Ye look a bit flushed. Ye cannae tell me the weather is already gettin’ to ye. And it’s nae even mid-day.”

“For a moment, I thought you were my mother,” Bridget started to explain as Martha made her way to the carriage waiting for them.

“By the look on yer face, I’d say it’s a good thin’ I’m nae her, aye?” Martha said, poking her head out of the window. “Now, are ye two comin’, or am I to go shoppin’ alone?”

“Make room,” Ava said gleefully as she raced for the carriage and climbed in.

Bridget remained on the pathway, still uncertain if she should go. A part of her wanted to see the village in a friendlier light, but at the same time, she wasn’t so confident stepping out in a dress that exposed so much of her skin.

“Bridget? Are ye comin’?” Ava asked, poking her head out of the carriage window.

Glancing over her shoulder, Bridget enjoyed a quick glimpse of the castle. To her delight, she spotted Ewan watching her from the bay windows of his study. There was an ache in his gaze that made Bridget want to run back inside.

“Aye,” she said as she noticed him nodding toward the carriage.

It was as if he understood her hesitation and was answering her without words.

Bridget nodded and turned to the carriage. Climbing inside, she eased into the seat across from Martha and Ava. The carriage was stuffy with the three of them inside, but with the curtains pulled back, there was some respite from the heat.

“So, I thought perhaps we could start at Montague’s. If she’s unavailable for a fittin’, we’ll try Trogos,” Martha said.

Bridget kept her eyes locked on the terrain they passed as the carriage trundled down the rugged road. It was the ocean that she had found so marvelous and grand. Although she’d hated sailing, and getting to the island was an ordeal in itself, she couldn’t help but admire the grandeur of the sea.

“So,” Ava said, leaning closer. “Tell me more about that group ye’re a part of.”

“Group?” Martha asked, her eyes flashing with curiosity. “What group?”

“Turns out Bridget here is in a secret society for lasses only,” Ava said. “Can ye imagine that?”

“And what exactly goes on at these events?” Martha asked as she turned a suspicious eye to Bridget.

“Do you really think my tongue is that loose?” Bridget tittered as she tilted her head in faux horror.

“Aye, I do, as are those of most lasses around these parts. Any one of them that tells ye different is lyin’. So, out wit’ it,” Martha said gleefully.

“Well, we talk about books.”

“That doesnae sound dangerous. Ye made it out to sound like ye were burnin’ the pews in a sacred church. I should have kenned better than to think an Englishwoman like yerself would even ken how to break the rules. I’m guessin’ ye never told yer faither off, did ye? Nae even once,” Ava teased.

“I would never,” Bridget snapped. “And don’t tell me that biology and physics and philosophy are dangerous topics. And what about the fact that I can shoot a bow and arrow!”

“Most lasses around here should be able to defend themselves. It would be a pity if ye didnae have the basic knowhow for that,” Martha chimed in.

“And I strike the target every time,” Bridget continued as she triumphantly folded her arms across her chest.

“That so? Fancy that, and I suppose ye want a pat on the back for bein’ able to handle yerself? Ye English are all the same,” Martha said with a playful wink.

“There is nothing wrong with being English. You make it sound like I had a choice in the matter. I didn’t have that choice any more than you had it to be a Scot.”

“Dinnae be sour, Martha is just havin’ a spot of fun. Besides, she cannae fault ye, and she kens it. But I still dinnae see what’s so important about yer club. It sounds like ye just have an excuse to gather.”

Bridget pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a heavy sigh. “Do you play chess?”

“Aye, everyone kens the only way to stay sharp is to play the game. Dinnae tell me ye play?” Martha asked as her smile widened.

“And what if I told you I did?”

“That’s nae an answer,” Martha stated.

“Yes, I play,” Bridget answered.

“Are ye any good?” Ava asked. Her voice was laced with doubt and disbelief.

Bridget tilted her head and batted her long lashes provocatively. “Would you like to find out?”

“Get the board,” Martha ordered as the girls clapped their hands together in unbridled anticipation.

Bridget didn’t have to work very hard to champion Martha, but the opportunity gave her time to discuss all matters of her club. She was thrilled when they both seemed to share her enthusiasm and willingness to join, but she couldn’t just offer them an entry pass. There was a formal process that they had to go through.

“Well, it sounds intriguin’,” Martha said as she slapped her knee. “But I do believe we’ve now arrived and are ready to shop.”

Bridget leaned closer to the carriage window and pulled the curtain back even further. The sights were so different now that the sunlight had illuminated the area.

“Well? What do ye think?” Ava asked as Bridget tried to become accustomed to the odor of fish in the air.

“It’s very quaint.”

“Come on, ye can tell it how it is,” Ava said.

Bridget flashed them a polite smile and turned her attention back to the sights and sounds of the village. There was something different about a market in Scotland. It seemed louder and wilder, as though everyone threw customs to the wind and looked for the best once the dust had settled. It was utterly unlike the markets in England, where everything was planned, organized, and executed flawlessly.

“Where is the shop we’re going to?”

“Nae too far away now,” Martha said as she pulled her purse from the nook between the seat and her leg.

Bridget shifted and prepared herself for the carriage to stop and the doors to open. She couldn’t help but feel a bit giddy being with Ava and Martha. They were the sweetest women she’d ever meet and far kinder than her mother had ever been.

Sure enough, as soon as the carriage turned the corner, it stopped. The carriage doors flew open, and Martha was the first to exit.

“Here we are. Now, dinnae be shy,” she said to Bridget. “If ye see somethin’ ye like, we’ve been instructed to get it, nay matter the cost.”

Bridget ran her fingers over the velvet fabric, thinking of how heavy the dress would be. Wool had never been kind to her figure. In fact, it seemed to amplify all of her flaws. However, there was something about the Scottish style and how the seamstress fashioned the dresses that gave her hope that she’d find one she’d love.

“Oh, what about this fabric? This is like butter, is it nae? Bridget, come feel this and tell me if it doesnae feel like a cloud in Heaven,” Ava said as she pressed her face against the fabric, relishing its softness. “I bet Ewan wouldnae mind seein’ ye in somethin’ wit’ this material.”

Bridget glanced at the deep maroon fabric. Jealousy surged through her as she watched Ava with the material. There was no doubt Ava could get three dresses from the fabric, while Bridget could ever only get one. As she ran the numbers through her head, she couldn’t help but think about what Ava had said about Ewan.

She glanced at the fabric again, wondering if she should give into temptation and have a dress made from it. With each passing gaze, she found herself wondering more about Ewan than the fabric.

“Ye look like ye’ve got the weight of the world on yer shoulders,” Ava said as she gathered a few bundles of fabric and set them on the large table in the middle of the shop. “What’s wrong? Do ye nae want to be here?”

“No, it’s not that,” Bridget started to explain as she chewed on her lower lip.

Embarrassment flashed through her and caused her cheeks to redden. She wanted to run and hide from their inquisitive eyes, but with nowhere to go and mirrors everywhere, she was stuck.

“Go on then, out wit’ it,” Martha said. “If it’s about the cost of the fabric, ye need nae worry about such things.”

“No, I was just wondering about the Laird,” Bridget said, her voice uneven.

The last thing she wanted to do was to offend the Laird, especially after all of the generosity he had shown her since she’d arrived.

“Ye want to ken why he wears the mask, is that it?” Ava asked.

“No, I was wondering more about why he’s so…tough,” Bridget said, feeling bashful and out of place.

It wasn’t like she was interested in marrying the man, but surely there had to be a story behind why he’d behaved so intensely in his study.

“That man is incapable of any human emotion,” a woman beside Bridget chimed in.

Bridget whipped her head around and stared at the woman before her.

“Ye would do well to steer clear of that one if ye ken what’s good for ye.”

Before Bridget could ask any questions, the woman with the ash blond hair was gone. Spinning around, Bridget hunted for the woman in the shop but came up short. For a moment, she wondered if she had imagined seeing her.

“Did you see that woman?” she asked Ava, who shook her head and flashed her an apologetic smile.

“She was—” Martha started, only to stop abruptly.

Confused, Bridget looked around. It didn’t take her long before her eyes landed on Ewan.

“Someone who cannae handle rejection,” Ewan explained as he eyed the velvet fabric. “Ye’ll look bonnie in that color. Pick that.”

Bridget watched as Ewan pulled the bolt of fabric from the wall and set it on the table. For once in her life, Bridget was at a loss for words. She couldn’t believe that he would pick such a daring color for her.

“My Laird, I do thank you for everything you’re doing, but that fabric is far too bold for the likes of me. Ava and Martha could fashion three dresses from that fabric, while I’d only get one. Let them have it.”

“Why should I do that when I said I want ye to wear that color?” Ewan said as the seamstress stepped out of the storage room to greet them.

Before the woman could even greet him, Ewan was giving orders as to what he wanted in the dress. It made Bridget nervous listening to his instructions to the seamstress. But, seeing that he was footing the bill, she’d allow him to do as he pleased. After all, it didn’t mean that she had to wear the dress.

“Well, that is all I need from ye,” the seamstress said. “I’ll have it ready in a few days. As for the two of ye, will ye be wantin’ dresses as well? Ava, I have yer measurements, but I’ll need yers.”

“I dinnae need a dress. Thank ye, though,” Martha answered as she looked around the shop.

“Ladies, I’m afraid if ye want to make it back to the castle before dark, we’re goin’ to have to leave now,” Ewan said as Bridget noticed his gaze was fixed on her. His attention was direct and earnest.

Standing beside Ewan was like standing beside her protector.

“There’s just nothin’ to choose from,” Ava grumbled as she scanned one fabric after another. “Ye ken, I dinnae think I want a dress, after all. It’s nae like we have any place to wear it. Nay special event or anythin’ comin’ up for me to need a new dress.”

Bridget couldn’t help but smile as she listened to Ava’s whining, which clearly annoyed Ewan.

“That’s it,” Ewan said, snatching Bridget by the wrist. “Ye’re comin’ wit’ me. I’ll nae waste another minute in here. The seamstress kens what she’s doin’. As for my cousin and aunt… that’s a different story. But they arenae me concern at the moment.”

“Is everything all right? Where are we going?” Bridget asked as Ewan pulled her out of the shop and guided her to his horse. Bridget stepped back, shaking her head. “You can’t be serious, I don’t know how to ride without a side saddle, not to mention my ankle. This is just a disaster waiting to happen. You know that, do you not?”

“I’ll nae let anythin’ hurt ye,” Ewan said as he helped her up into the saddle. “I promise. I just need to ask ye a few questions, and I dinnae want me kin around.”

Bridget swallowed hard as Ewan climbed up behind her. Reaching around her, he snagged the reins and wrapped his arms around her. Bridget had never felt safer or more secure.

“Are you sure about this?” Bridget questioned as the horse trotted down the road.

“Ye worry too much about things that dinnae matter,” Ewan said.

“Then why are you taking me away from the others?”

“I told ye, I’ve got questions ye’ve got the answers to.”