Page 11 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #5)

CHAPTER 11

Ava stared at Brodrick as if what had just happened was entirely his fault. As if she hadn’t had her arms wrapped around him a few minutes ago. They both remained still, staring at each other, their ragged breaths echoing between them.

“Lass—” he started.

“No.” Ava raised her hand, cutting him off.

She just needed silence. Silence to process what had just happened. Silence to berate herself and snap her mind back to reality. To the reality where nothing could happen between them. Silence to compose herself and apologize.

“My apologies,” she whispered, still sounding a little dazed.

Brodrick narrowed his eyes at her. “Apologies?”

“I should not have let that happen.”

“Ava,” Brodrick called, a hint of confusion lacing his voice.

“I shall head to my room. Please tell Flora that I will not be able to go back down to finish my dinner.”

“Woman, what are ye talkin’ about?”

“Give her my apologies as well,” Ava continued, almost like she hadn’t heard a word he said.

“Ava,” Brodrick called again, the worry in his voice growing by the second.

Ava nodded and turned around, her head hanging low as she approached the door. How had she let this happen? Why did she let herself become so vulnerable? Before him.

As she grabbed the door handle, a frown creased her brow. This was never going to happen again. She was going to make certain of that.

* * *

“Ava, lass,” Brodrick called, watching her close the door behind her, his eyebrows knitted together.

His heart rate slowed as he leaned back against his desk. His once pristine shirt was wrinkled now, and he could feel his manhood still straining against his trousers.

Several questions crossed his mind as he started to wonder what could possibly have come over Ava.

What happened? One minute they were both deep into the kiss—it had been a rather intense and magnificent experience for them both, he was quite certain of that—the next she stopped and decided so suddenly that it had been a giant mistake.

He remained by the desk, the puzzling thoughts bouncing around in his mind as the fire crackled in the hearth just a few feet away from him. As he made up his mind to straighten and leave his study, the door creaked open again.

“Ava?” he called, a strange hope rising in his chest.

But that hope was instantly dashed when the door fully opened and Flora walked in.

“She’s nae here?” she asked, looking around, a worried expression on her face.

Brodrick shook his head.

“Why? I thought she would be here. I want her to come put Margaret to bed.”

“Go to her room. She’ll be there.”

A tense silence descended between them for the better half of a minute. Brodrick could feel his little sister’s scrutinizing gaze on him. He could even feel her judgment and the words she wanted to say.

“I said, go to her room,” he ordered.

“Ye clump!” she muttered. “What did ye say to the poor lass?”

“Me?”

“Aye! Ye!”

“Why would ye assume it was me fault?”

“Because I ken ye, Braither. Now, tell me, what exactly did ye say to that woman, so I can go and apologize to her properly?”

“I didnae say anything.”

“Brodrick.”

“I said, I didnae say anything. Now, will ye leave me alone?”

Flora sighed and moved towards the door. “’Tis nae yer fault ye’re a clotpole. ‘Tis nae me fault either for havin’ one as a braither.”

“Dinnae speak to me like that,” Brodrick warned in a low voice.

Flora lowered her head before meeting his gaze again. “’Tis whatever ye say, I suppose. She is in her room, is she nae?”

Brodrick nodded.

His mind was still racing with all the questions that plagued him. Why had Ava reacted to him like that? What happened all of a sudden? He hated not knowing the answers to these questions, and he hated the fact that Flora continued to bother him even more.

“I shall go to her room then,” she whispered. “Do ye want to say goodnight to Margaret?”

Brodrick shrugged. There was no point in doing that. His daughter still hadn’t begun to warm up to him. She could do without his presence for the rest of the night.

“Do I bring her to the study?”

“Nay. Take her to her room. I shall speak to her tomorrow.”

Flora nodded. She retreated to the door, and as she reached for the wooden handle, she turned around once again. Brodrick could feel her gaze burn deep into him.

“And ye’re certain ye did nothing to the woman?”

“Flora,” he growled.

She raised her free hand in surrender and walked out of the study. “I have left some venison for ye in the dining hall. Ye still intend to go back, do ye nae?”

“Aye,” Brodrick responded, his voice curt.

Gently, Flora closed the door, leaving him to his thoughts once again, to the overbearing silence of the study, to the pressing question that was slowly ravaging his mind. To the questions that greatly bothered him. The ones he knew wouldn’t be answered today.

For the briefest moment, when Ava left the study, he wanted to run after her. He wanted to follow and ask what had happened. But for some reason, he hadn’t. He had felt she needed the time to herself. Maybe he had inadvertently hit a nerve and she needed to heal without his presence. Now, he couldn’t help but wonder if that had been a giant mistake on his part.

Should he have gone after her? Would that have stopped the confusion fogging his head now?

Trying desperately to quiet the thoughts in his head, he moved away from the desk and headed out of the study.

* * *

Ava stepped into the bath, her mind still hazy from the kiss. Had she really done that? She had really allowed Brodrick to take her, to kiss her. And worse, she had enjoyed it.

She slowly lowered herself into the bath, the water slowly crawling across her shins, up her legs, and finally stopping right at her shoulders. It had been quite the long day, and if the coldness of the water was going to be of any kind of relief, she was most definitely going to take it.

Her past with men hadn’t exactly been glamorous; there was no other way to put it. She cupped some water and splashed it across her face, her eyes closed, locking away some rather painful memories.

She had decided to close her heart to men long ago, and she had managed to keep it that way for the past few years. So, what was it about Brodrick that upended everything? What made it so easy for him to get right to where she had managed to stay hidden for such a long time? How was he able to break down the walls she had built for such a long time with such demonstrated ease? Was it his body?

No, it had to be more than that. It was something else. Something deeper. Something she was rather scared to admit to herself. She splashed water on her face again, the question continuing to plague her mind.

What is it about Brodrick Culloch?

Was it his protective instinct? Was it the fact that he had been quite gentle with Margaret over the past few days? Was it the fact that he was adamant about not spending one more second without his daughter by his side?

Was it?—

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts.

“Who is it?” she called, hoping her voice was strong enough to carry from the bath.

“’Tis me! Flora.” Flora’s muffled voice floated back to her.

Ava stepped out of the bath, grabbed the closest robe she could find, and slipped straight into it. She headed to the door, ignoring the wet prints her feet left behind her, and pulled the door open.

Flora was standing on the other side, a wide grin on her face. “I have put Margaret to bed. I read her the numbers on her parchment.”

Ava nodded, stepping aside to let Flora into the room. “Thank you.”

Flora sighed and walked in.

Ava could see the uncertainty on the woman’s face. The kind that made her wonder if Brodrick had informed her about what had happened.

“Is everythin’ alright? I asked Brodrick, but he wouldnae speak to me. Did somethin’ happen?”

Ava swallowed at her question. Did something happen?

So Brodrick didn’t tell his sister.

She tightened the belt of her robe around her waist. “No,” she finally muttered. “No. Nothing happened.”

She wasn’t wrong. Nothing happened. Nothing worth explaining. Nothing that would ever happen again.

She could tell that Flora wasn’t convinced, and she was grateful that the woman didn’t bring it up again.

“If ye say so,” Flora relented, the resignation in her voice evident. “I have asked the dressmaker to come here tomorrow.”

Ava frowned, and her lips pressed into a thin line. “What?”

“If ye’re plannin’ on stayin’ here for more than a month—” Flora started.

“It’s just a month,” Ava corrected quickly.

The thought of staying in the castle for more than a month greatly troubled her, for some reason.

Flora nodded. “Aye. Me mistake. But either way, ye need dresses. Very soon, ye will run out of the ones ye have brought with ye.”

Ava laughed. “Dresses are made to be worn over and over again, you know?”

“Nae when ye’re the guardian of Laird MacDunn’s bairn,” Flora pointed out.

Ava could sense it in Flora’s voice—the disdain at the mere thought of having to wear the same dress more than once.

“I would have lent ye some of me dresses, but…” Flora hesitated, her voice growing fainter with each word. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed nervously.

Ava immediately understood the reason behind her uncertainty.

For some reason, she greatly appreciated the fact that Flora rarely brought up her size, unless it was necessary. If anything, Flora was more taken aback by the fact that she was English than the fact that she was bigger than the average woman.

“I know your dresses would not fit me, Flora. Anyone would understand. You do not need to beat around the bush.”

“Alright, then.” Flora nodded. She flicked imaginary specs of dust off her gown, getting ready to leave. “I shall leave ye be. I can see ye are quite busy.”

Ava shrugged. “Not in the slightest. I was only making preparations for tomorrow. But before then, I plan to have a long night.”

Flora nodded. “And ye deserve it.” Her breath hitched as if there was something else she wanted to bring up. “I ken I said I put Margaret to bed, but if ye want to check on her?—”

“There is no reason for me to check,” Ava responded.

Flora frowned. “Are ye certain?”

Ava nodded. “Margaret should get comfortable around you, so it will be easier for her when I leave. And if I am being honest,” she added quickly when Flora opened her mouth, “I think Margaret likes you more than she likes Brodrick. But do not tell him I said that.”

Flora smiled. “I like the wee rascal as well.”

She finally headed back to the door, her feet slightly dragging across the floor. When she put her hand on the door handle, she turned to Ava again.

“Ye will be at breakfast tomorrow, will ye nae? We will have it with the people residin’ at the castle.”

Ava swallowed. “Really?”

“Aye,” Flora responded. “It was Brodrick’s idea. He wanted the people to get to ken Margaret and get used to her presence.”

Ava thought it over. It was not particularly the worst idea in the world. She had encountered some of Brodrick’s people. But she wasn’t sure if she wanted to interact with them even more.

“I ken Brodrick intends to introduce Margaret at tomorrow’s breakfast, but I am quite certain he intends to introduce ye as well,” Flora added, in what seemed like a last attempt to convince Ava to attend.

Ava nodded. “It is quite all right. I shall make myself available.”

Flora smiled in response, stepped out of her room, and shut the creaky door behind her.

Ava remained standing in the middle of her room. Her eyes landed on the unfinished letter she had been writing to Sarah and Elizabeth, and she considered briefly whether to finish it. The idea disappeared just as quickly as it had come, and she moved to her bed.

She looked out the glass panes, into the still and rather beautiful starry sky. The sky in the Highlands, she had to admit, looked even more breathtaking than it did on the Scottish border. Of course, she would never mention this to Brodrick. The last thing she needed was to let it go to his head.

Brodrick.

As she lay down on the bed, her head softly hitting her pillow, vivid images of their kiss flashed through her mind. She couldn’t believe that for a brief moment, she had forgotten about it. And now she couldn’t believe it was back again.

She squeezed her eyes shut, ready for the stillness of the room and the faint draft coming from the window to lull her into a sound sleep.

As she slowly drifted off, the last thing she thought of was breakfast tomorrow. And the fact that she’d make herself visible to even more people.

It’s just breakfast. What could possibly go wrong?