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

CHAPTER 5

Ava wasn’t particularly intent on ruining Margaret’s day by delivering two pieces of bad news at once. The fact that she had to witness the encounter for the first time in the kitchen anyway did not sit well with her.

She stopped at Margaret’s door and waited for a while, contemplating knocking and walking in.

When Margaret was first brought in, Ava had ordered that she be put in the same room as the other girls her age. Ava had presumed that the little girl getting exposed to other girls her age would bring back her confidence and possibly her voice.

She had been wrong. She had noticed immediately within a week that sharing a room with other girls was doing way more harm than good to Margaret. So, she did the next best thing and asked that Margaret be put in a separate room on her own. And ever since, Margaret’s recovery had progressed rapidly.

After all, she did speak today, so it was working.

Ava reached for the door and lifted her hand, ready to knock. Thoughts continued to run through her head.

What if Brodrick’s appearance only managed to disrupt the girl’s recovery? What if the things she had witnessed today would stop her from speaking at all, possibly forever?

The options—no, the illusion of her having options rather swirled around in her head as she shuffled her feet before Margaret’s door.

But at the same time, Margaret had spoken right in the heat of the argument. What had pushed her? Was it pressure? Was it the severity of the situation?

Ava slowly withdrew her hand and lowered it to her side. If she was going to do this, perhaps the best way to do it would be to?—

Her thoughts were swiftly interrupted by the door creaking open. She narrowed her eyes. She didn’t knock, did she?

Margaret looked up at her, a weak smile playing on her lips. As much as it hurt her to say, Ava could see the resemblance with Brodrick. The girl had his eyes, his hair, and a softer shape that was reminiscent of his face.

She stepped aside, the smile still lingering on her face.

Ava walked in, looking around the room. In just the one week Margaret had been moved to her new room, she had managed to make it fit what Ava assumed to be her personality. The room looked quite regal and was similar to how Margaret carried herself despite being just a child.

She always had the grace of royalty, like the daughter of a king.

Or a powerful laird.

Of course.

Ava swallowed and closed the door behind her as Margaret hurried back to her bed, the parchment she had given her pinched between her fingers.

“I assume you are finding the letters quite interesting to read, are you not?”

Margaret looked up, a wide smile on her face.

“He is gone, by the way. The brute that tried to attack us in the kitchen.”

Margaret nodded.

Ava shuffled her feet, wondering what would be the best possible way to break the news to her.

“Margie,” she started, refusing to linger and letting her thoughts consume her. “You shall go on a trip tomorrow. What do you think about that?”

Margaret shrugged.

“It is quite an important one, you see. It might help us learn where you come from. And possibly help us figure out your little speech problem.”

Ava watched Margaret’s hand tighten around the parchment, a worried look crossing her face.

“Oh, it is fine, you see. I shall be with you the entire time.”

She watched as Margaret’s features softened in relief. Her grip on the parchment slackened.

“We shall be leaving tomorrow with the Highlander. But do not worry, we shall be in another carriage. He will not scare you any longer.”

Margaret said nothing. She did nothing either.

Ava swallowed. “I shall come later this evening to prepare you for the journey. Is that all right with you?”

Margaret nodded.

Ava threw her a slight smile before turning around. Her walk to the door was slow, deliberate, and slightly expectant. She kept waiting to see if Margaret would do something—or say something. Something like she didn’t want to go, she wasn’t ready, she loved it here.

But she heard nothing.

Resigned, she quickened her steps and closed the gap between her and the door. She pulled it open and walked out, giving Margaret one last gentle smile before shutting the door behind her.

She stood outside the hallway and swallowed. She would need to delegate her duties and prepare herself as well if she was leaving tomorrow. She would need to properly make sure the place was still up and running before she left which meant there was a lot she had to put in place. Sure enough, the highlander said she would have a month. What if it was more than a month? What if Margaret never learned to speak for the next six months. She needed to make sure this place could survive longer than that without her. Her eyes searched the cottage premises as if taking in the view one last time.

Eventually, she walked back to her room and shut the door behind her. She headed to the mirror in the corner and took a look at her dress.

For a minute, she had let several thoughts bounce around in her head. What had the Highlander thought of her? Of the fact that she was curvier than most women, the fact that she was bigger, the fact that she didn’t let him step all over her. But then her mind started conjuring images, like her staring into his eyes, wrapping her hands around his muscles.

She gave herself a shake, startled by her wild imagination. Then, she took a few deep breaths and headed out of her room again.

If she was truly leaving the cottage tomorrow with Margaret, if Brodrick was truly a man of his word and would make her travel with him, then she needed advice. She needed guidance, and she knew who would give her precisely that.

* * *

Ava knocked on the door and waited.

The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, and she had managed to get herself a moment’s respite, no matter how uneasy it had been. Now, she was back before the door of one of her closest friends, Elizabeth.

The door opened, and Elizabeth appeared, her long brown hair catching the warm light of the setting sun.

“My apologies. I have been trying to tighten my corset,” she greeted, opening the door wider. “Might ye come in and take a look for me, Ava?”

Ava nodded. “Of course.”

She walked in, shutting the door quietly behind her.

“My back must have snagged on the door,” Elizabeth muttered.

She walked to the mirror and stood before it, her hand tampering with her corset strings.

“I have sent one of the girls to fetch Sarah for me. But since ye’re here, ye might as well help me.”

Ava walked closer to Elizabeth and began to tighten the laces of her corset. She was so lost in thought that she couldn’t tell when the girdle grew tight enough. Elizabeth had to tap her arm slightly.

“Any tighter, and I’d be spillin’ my guts all over the floor. Are ye doing all right, Ava?”

Before Ava could respond, Elizabeth gestured towards the chairs in her room.

They both made their way to the wooden chairs, and Elizabeth rested her forearms on the table, a worried and curious look in her rather piercing green eyes.

“Henrietta informed me about the violent but apologetic Highlander who visited ye this afternoon. Is that why ye’ve been in a mood?”

As Ava opened her mouth to speak, a soft thud pierced the air. The noise had come right from under Elizabeth’s large bed.

She was no stranger to the fact that her friend found animals in the wild every other day and brought them in to care for them and feed them.

Elizabeth waved her hand as if to dispel her worries. “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were ye. It is simply a rabbit I found in the woods.”

Ava’s eyes widened, and her chest tightened with fear. “Elizabeth?!”

Elizabeth scoffed, a playful smile resting on her face. “’Tis just a rabbit, Ava. Don’t tell me ye’re afraid of them.”

“When they can run that fast, yes, I am,” Ava said, the alarm on her face only coaxing laughter from her friend.

Elizabeth had always been sweet to animals. She greatly hated hunting, particularly when it was done for sport. Ava was one of the people she was sweet to. She was greatly opinionated and had always dreamed of becoming an inventor someday. What she was going to invent, Ava didn’t know.

“Don’t worry. It won’t attack ye.”

A knock on the door halted the conversation.

“That must be Sarah,” Elizabeth whispered. She rose from the chair and headed to the door.

Ava remained seated, her heart beating rather fast in her chest. The last thing she needed to add to her worry was some rabbit scurrying out of the bed and past her. She just wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“Ava?” Sarah’s voice was clear and pristine.

Ava turned to give the older woman a sweet smile.

Sarah, who was a little over ten years older than Ava, had been her maid for a time they could no longer remember.

“Where’s Jane?” Ava asked, looking around to see if Sarah brought her daughter along with her.

“Playin’,” Sarah responded, her voice curt.

Ava nodded and watched them both sit in the chairs across from her.

“Ye are both here,” she noted.

These were some of the people she trusted the most in the world. Now was not the time to hide anything from them. So she spoke. She told them everything, and they listened with rapt attention.

Sarah paused only twice to ask questions like, “Are we certain the Highlander is Margaret’s father?” and “Are we certain he is goin’ to return tomorrow as he promised?” Both of which Ava had no definite answers to.

After she finished recounting everything that had happened, a tense silence swept over the room, interrupted only by the slight scratching noise from under Elizabeth’s bed—a sound that continued to disturb Ava, even if mildly.

“I suppose the only question left to ask is, if the Highlander does come tomorrow as he promised, are ye completely fine with lettin’ him go with Margaret?” Elizabeth asked.

“No.” Ava did not think too long about her response. “The girl cannot even speak.”

“Didn’t ye just say she spoke earlier?” Sarah asked.

“Yes, but she immediately clammed up. I feel I have made certain progress with her, and this journey might just destroy everything.”

“Only if ye’re not with her tomorrow,” Elizabeth pointed out.

Ava narrowed her eyes, and Sarah reached for her hands and gently squeezed them. “Ye have to go with her, Ava. Don’t worry about the orphanage. Elizabeth and I will hold down the fort.”

Ava’s eyes darted between Elizabeth and Sarah, the look of uncertainty still lingering on her face.

“Sarah is right,” Elizabeth muttered. “If ye let Margaret go alone with the Highlander, ye won’t sleep well at night. I ken that, and I ken ye. Ye have to leave with her tomorrow. And I’ll pray to the Lord for ye.”

Ava nodded, taking in their concerned faces one more time.

They were both right. She had found Margaret. She had decided to take care of her for the past two weeks. She deserved to see this through, to make certain the girl no longer had to worry about anything—even if it meant spending a day or two on the road just to go to some laird’s castle.

“It will be fine,” Elizabeth reassured, her words sweeping over Ava’s frayed nerves like a soothing balm. “I give ye my word.”

* * *

As the sun rose the next day, so did Ava’s fears. She lay tense on her bed, feeling her heart pound so hard it could shatter her ribs. Her hands rested on her stomach, and she watched them rise and fall with every breath she took.

This was it.

This was the moment she had been dreading since yesterday. Any minute, a bloodied Highlander could break through the gates of the cottage on a horse and ask that she take Margaret and follow him. Her mind tried to dull the image of the Highlander, the one she had memorized ever since she saw him in the kitchen.

His glistening skin and the way it shone in the sunlight. His white shirt torn and bloodied from what Ava didn’t want to think about. His kilt and the way his belt held it up. She couldn’t get him out of her head.

And the fact that she anticipated his entrance any moment from now did not exactly sit well with her. Maybe he wouldn’t come. Maybe the previous afternoon in the kitchen had been a hoax. Maybe he had finally found his child and had decided he did not need Margaret—or her—anymore.

Maybe—

A knock pulled her out of her thoughts, and the last tendrils of sleep. The knock came again, louder this time.

Ava rose from the bed, her white silk gown catching the early sunrise. She walked to the door, a yawn escaping her lips as she pulled it open.

Elizabeth stood on the other side, wide-eyed and more excited than usual—which was saying a lot.

Ava rubbed her eyes, wondering if her mind playing tricks on her. It wasn’t.

“Elizabeth?”

“He’s here,” Elizabeth blurted. So much for a prior warning. “The Highlander. He’s here.”

Ava opened her mouth to respond when she heard it—the slow and deliberate clip-clop of hooves growing louder, the crunch of wheels on dirt.

“Stall him. And tell Sarah to fetch Margaret.” The obvious urgency in Ava’s voice made it sound like she was on the verge of tears when she wasn't. She could feel her throat close up at the thought of having to leave the cottage this morning.

Elizabeth blinked. “What?”

“Distract him, Elizabeth. I need to get ready.”

“What do ye expect me to speak to him about, Ava?”

Ava sighed. She was putting her friend in a rather delicate position. Elizabeth was not exactly the most enthusiastic when it came to talking to men.

“I have found that all they ever want to discuss are my marriage prospects and how many bairns I can bear for them,” she had said countless times in the past.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Ava responded, retreating into her room and hurrying towards her wardrobe. “You caught a rabbit yesterday—you can talk to him about that. He’s a Highlander, I’m sure he can share some tips with you.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and shut the door after Ava threw her a grateful glance.

Ava sifted through some of her gowns, quite hesitant about the best one to wear.

Any of them would be fine, really. I am riding with a man in a torn white shirt and a kilt.

She grabbed the last of her clothes and stuffed them into the box she had prepared the previous day.

In a few minutes, she had managed to pack every piece of clothing in her room. She looked at herself in the mirror one more time. For someone who did not have much time, she managed to make herself look presentable.

She took long breaths for a minute and then walked out of her room, mentally bidding it farewell. She walked with haste, dragging her box to the watering hole, where the carriage waited. This was about to be a rather long and harrowing ride.

Soon, she was standing in front of the carriage and the horse. She swallowed when the Highlander jumped down from the front bench and began moving closer to her. Her eyes remained fixed on him in disbelief as he approached.

“Good Lord,” she whispered.

The man walking towards her was not at all the man she had met the previous day.

This was not the man who had barged into her kitchen.