Page 13 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #5)

CHAPTER 13

The day had rushed on just as fast as it had started, and Brodrick remained in his study for most of it, only taking a few breaks to train his men and let them show him just how much better they had gotten at sword fighting.

When he was in the courtyard, watching his men train, he stole brief glances at the window in Ava’s room, hoping to see her looking down at them, like she had done the previous day. Except she wasn’t. His eyes returned to his men.

“If ye keep holdin’ yer sword like that, ye might as well be beggin’ yer opponent to kill ye,” he said to the soldier before him, his words eliciting laughter from the group.

On his way to his study right after, he stole a glance at Ava’s door, wondering if she was standing on the other side, waiting for him to pass by. But it did not open.

He did not see her throughout the day, not when he went to see Margaret and found her writing on a piece of parchment, not when he went to the dining hall for lunch, and not when he asked Flora to invite more people to the cèilidh.

When she finally appeared at dinner, she was no longer wearing the green dress she had worn during breakfast, but a white gown that flowed gracefully around her and shone in the yellow candlelight. Even in such simple attire, she still looked quite breathtaking.

Unlike breakfast, dinner was quite uneventful. It was only the three of them—he, Margaret, and Ava. Flora had retired quite early to her room. The sound of spoons clinking against fine china filled the air as they all ate and emptied their plates.

Brodrick still couldn’t get the kiss out of his mind. He couldn’t get the abrupt ending of it out of his mind either, and as they ate, he wondered if it had anything to do with the man she was supposed to marry.

As the maids came to clear the table, Margaret stretched out her hands and yawned.

Ava watched her carefully, a smile playing on her face. “You’re quite tired, are you not?”

Margaret nodded.

“Well then, let’s get you to your room before you pass out on the table, shall we?” Ava urged, laughing as she stood up.

She reached for Margaret’s hand and led her away from the table. As they headed to the door, Brodrick stood up as well, refusing to ponder the matter for longer.

“I shall come with ye,” he called.

Ava turned to look at him, a confused expression on her face. “Is that… necessary, My Laird?”

“It isnae. But I still want to come anyway. That is nae a problem, is it?”

Ava shook her head. “Not at all.”

Brodrick took one last swig of his ale and stepped away from the table. He walked slowly behind them as they made their way out of the dining hall. The loud clicking of their shoes on the floor echoed off the walls, and for some reason, it was the only thing Brodrick could focus on.

He saw the fear on Margaret’s face as they walked.

“Ye’re all right, lassie,” he whispered. “’Tis just the wind.”

His words seemed to have a calming effect on Margaret, as her features smoothed out, even if just a little bit.

They walked a little further until they got to Margaret’s room.

Ava stepped inside first, pulling the door wide open. Margaret walked in after her, but Brodrick just stood by the door. He watched Ava take Margaret by the hand and lead her to her bed, a glimmer of motherly affection in her eyes. She couldn’t take care of Margaret any better than she was currently doing if the girl came from her own womb.

Brodrick watched closely as Ava helped Margaret onto the bed and gently brushed her hair from her face.

“Do you need me to read you a story before bed?” she asked, her voice gentle, almost out of a fairytale.

Margaret shook her head slowly.

Ava nodded and placed a sweet kiss on the child’s forehead.

Brodrick remained by the door, leaning against the jamb as he watched Ava continue to brush the little girl’s hair and hum a merry tune. He watched Margaret slowly slip into a warm slumber before he ventured into the room, his eyes wide with amazement.

“Lass, I must say, ye have quite the?—”

Ava’s head snapped up. “Shh.”

Brodrick froze.

Ava slowly brought her finger to her lips, motioning for him to keep quiet. Brodrick was frozen for a minute as she took one last look at Margaret. Then, she looked up at him and motioned for him to walk out.

Brodrick frowned and slowly mouthed, “What?”

“Step outside,” Ava said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Quietly.”

Brodrick, still utterly confused, merely nodded and did as he was told. He retreated and found himself standing in the doorway once again, watching Ava slowly rise from the bed.

As she took one last look at Margaret, Brodrick felt his breath catch in his throat. The paleness of her face and the way it glowed in the silvery moonlight was a rather magnificent sight. He wished there was a way he could sear this moment into his memory forever.

But it was broken almost immediately as Ava began to walk towards him, careful to keep her footsteps as light as possible.

She placed her finger on her lips once again as she got to the doorway. Brodrick watched her slip out and shut the door behind her, before she let out a long breath.

“Margaret is a light sleeper,” she explained. “In the first week we found her, the slightest rustle of the leaves would wake her up. She would remain awake for hours and not go back to bed. Have you ever had to take care of a child whose sleep gets interrupted by a needle falling on the floor?”

Brodrick shook his head. “Nay, I admit that I didnae.”

“It is not satisfying. Not one bit.”

They slowly walked away from Margaret’s door and straight into a small passageway in a corner of the castle. The moonlight filtered through some of the equally spaced holes in the walls, creating a rather spectacular view of the passageways and corridors in particular.

Silence descended between them, but it did not sit well with Brodrick. He wanted to break it almost immediately. It was either grabbing her and kissing her right in the passageway or breaking the silence with words and asking her questions. As the heat spread through his body, he found himself blurting out the very first thing that came to his mind.

“So, yer ex-husband?—”

“I was never married,” Ava corrected, not turning to look at him.

“Right,” Brodrick said, in a tone that almost seemed reproving. “But ye did mention that the man ye were supposed to marry?—”

“Yes. He never showed up at the wedding. I waited in the chapel for an hour. I looked so dejected that even the priest who intended to marry us started to pity me. He asked me right then and there if I would marry his son. That was how badly he felt.”

“That must have been horrible,” Brodrick whispered.

“Have you ever been left standing at the altar, My Laird?”

“Nay.”

“Of course,” Ava said, finally turning to him. “Because who would dare leave a man like… you?” she muttered, gesturing to his body.

“I’ve had me fair share of disappointments, I’ll have ye ken. Before I got married to Margaret’s maither, I wasnae particularly the most sought-after man in the town.”

“Was it because of your weight?”

“Huh?”

“I said,” Ava reiterated, looking up at him, “was it because of your weight?”

Brodrick swallowed before he shook his head slowly.

“The man I was supposed to marry… he was a viscount.”

“A viscount?”

“My father is an earl. The Earl of Sutton,” Ava continued, ignoring the fact that it was taking Brodrick a little bit of time to process her words. “My mother was a Scottish lady.”

“What?”

“If you can believe it, yes. She was the wildest and the freest woman I have ever met. She was the one who taught me that I didn’t need a man to accomplish everything I wanted in life. She made me believe that a man should only be an appendage to my life and not a dictator.”

Brodrick narrowed his eyes at her, and she seemed to have suddenly grown aware of her rather vulgar choice of words.

“I apolog?—”

“Yer maither. She’s dead, is she nae?” Brodrick asked, cutting her off.

Ava nodded. “Yes. She was a great woman, my mother. She made me realize you could be happy no matter who you get married to. And she lived by that principle because she lived an incredibly happy life, despite being married to someone like my father.”

Brodrick nodded gently. “I take it yer faither was a terrible man, then.”

“No more than the average Englishman,” Ava responded. “He was a snob. He believed women should be seen and not heard. Women should behave like women all the time. Quiet, elegant, and fragile. He hated the life my mother lived, and even worse, he hated how happy that life made her.”

Brodrick listened attentively, watching the way her lips moved, the way her nostrils flared in what he could only imagine was utter disgust every single time she spoke of her father. The way the glint in her eyes disappeared and reappeared again.

“So, yes, I have had my fair share of bad experiences with men,” Ava continued. “And I know from experience how it all turns out in the end. But when the viscount did not show up… it didn’t feel all that horrible. It felt freeing .”

“Ava—” Brodrick started.

“So, whatever you think you can achieve by seducing me, it is not going to work. I’ve seen how men act. And I know how men think.”

“Why are ye always so quick to wall yerself up every time ye start to be vulnerable?”

“Because, like I said, I know how men think.”

A moment of brief silence passed between them. Brodrick could cut the tension with a butter knife if he wanted to.

“Things do not need to be complicated. We are both adults who simply got caught up in the moment. The kiss meant nothing. I know that. And you know that too, Brodrick.”

The use of his Christian name instead of his title wasn’t lost on him. But he was sure that if he pointed it out, Ava would run away from him again.

“Ava, if ye would just?—”

“I shall be here for a month, as arranged. After Margaret is fully settled in, I shall pack my belongings and head back to the orphanage. We do not need to make things harder than they already are. Do you not agree with me, My Laird?”

Brodrick shook his head. “Do ye ever let anyone speak?”

A slight smile tugged at Ava’s lips before she slowly turned around. “Goodnight, My Laird.”

An unsettling realization dawned on Brodrick as quickly as it had earlier. He had less than a second to say something—to do something before Ava vanished out of view, out of reach.

Without giving it a second thought, he reached for her wrist and yanked, pulling her closer to him. A low gasp escaped Ava’s lips as her hands crashed into his chest. Their faces were only inches apart as he looked down at her, at her beautiful eyes and how they reflected the flickering light.

“Ye’re wrong, ye ken? About what men think.”

Ava swallowed. Whatever words were supposed to come out remained frozen in her mouth for some reason, leaving him surprised.

“Unless ye’re really some kind of witch, ye cannae ken what I think, do ye?”

“I—” The words died on her tongue, again.

Brodrick smiled. He was enjoying every single moment of this.

The tension between them thickened, and he leaned in, feeling his heart pound hard in his chest. He could almost feel Ava’s as well.

He leaned in even further, about to kiss her, when a loud voice rang out in the passageway.

“Brodrick?”