Page 8 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #5)

CHAPTER 8

When Ava finally got to her room and stared around, it was the last thing she could have possibly imagined. The walls were freshly painted, the floor was well scrubbed, and the bed was properly made.

When Flora motioned for her to step inside, she looked around, utter surprise written all over her face.

“Brodrick said that he wanted ye to have one of the best rooms in the wing, so here we are. Do ye like it?”

Ava looked around again, taking in the view. A window hung above the bed, overlooking the distant fields and the mountains that were barely visible on the horizon. She walked closer to the window and looked down. She could get a clear view of almost everything from where she stood.

She could see the stables and the horses neighing to the young man taking care of them. She could see the women washing a large pile of clothes on the table and singing a familiar tune as they worked. She could see another group of women cutting slabs of meat. Everything was clear from here, and yet she had a nagging feeling that it had been deliberate.

“It is quite satisfactory, thank you very much.”

Flora nodded. “I should also apologize for me behavior earlier. I wasnae informed that me niece would be accompanied by?—”

“It’s all right. I didn’t exactly plan this either. Brodrick—uh, Laird MacDunn would not leave without Margaret, and since I didn’t exactly trust him with her, he asked me to come as well.”

“Well,” Flora murmured, “me braither always has a reason for doin’ anything. I presume I shall see ye at the cèilidh?”

Ava steepled her fingers. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face so many people today.

“I do not think?—”

“I shall keep a seat for ye at the table anyway,” Flora added.

Ava nodded, a brief smile crossing her face. “And Margaret. When can I see her?”

“Dinnae worry. I shall take ye to her whenever ye’re ready,” Flora responded.

“Yes.” Ava nodded. “I understand that she’s now home and amongst her people, but I would be failing in my duty if I do not make sure she’s safe and well. I hope you understand.”

Flora chuckled. “Whatever ye have to do to make the wee girl speak, I shall be right behind ye.”

Ava nodded again, giving her a grateful smile. She looked around her room one more time. This was where she was going to be staying for the next month, and it did not look bad. Not in the slightest.

“I am ready,” she declared.

Flora nodded once and gestured towards the door. “Then let’s go meet Margaret.”

* * *

Margaret’s room was just as wide as Ava’s if not a bit wider. It seemed to stretch out even further than Ava’s did, and yet the little girl was huddled on the floor next to the bed, hugging her knees to her chest, just as she had done in the kitchen the previous day.

“Hey… Margie,” Ava called, hurrying to her side, while Flora watched in utter silence.

“Is everythin’ all right?” Flora asked from the doorway, a rather confused expression on her face.

“Yes,” Ava responded. “It is just one of those things.”

“Aye, the child has a lot of things wrong with her, has she nae?” Flora asked.

Ava’s ears burned at that question, but she knew that Flora was only asking from a place of genuine concern.

“She should be better soon,” she reassured.

“If ye say so,” Flora muttered.

As she turned to leave, Ava called after her, “If we can get some bannocks, that will be greatly appreciated.”

“Bannocks?” Flora asked. “Tell her there’s fish and meat whenever she is ready to dine.”

Ava smiled. “I understand, but right now, she will prefer bannocks.”

Flora nodded. She didn’t understand this, not a single part, but she retreated anyway. “I shall fetch some for her.”

Ava threw her a grateful look, and Flora finally disappeared from view.

“So, what do we always do when this happens? We count, right?” Ava asked, helping the girl onto the bed.

Margaret nodded.

Ava hurried back to her room to grab some parchment and a quill. She returned and handed it to Margaret, who began to write the numbers she had taught her.

Then, she walked to the other side of the bed and sat down, watching the little girl continue to write.

She had mentioned to Brodrick that it would take her at least a month to figure out why Margaret had spoken for the first time in the kitchen the other day. Now, as she watched the girl scribble across the parchment, a sinking feeling gnawed at her, as if letting her know that it was going to take more than a month.

She didn’t want to stay here longer than necessary. She needed to go back to the orphanage. She had work to do and children to take care of.

For now, though, Margaret was distracted by her work, and she would keep a very close eye on her. Perhaps after dinner tonight, when she had properly settled in, she would write a letter to Sarah and Elizabeth and let them know she had arrived safely.

Flora returned just a few minutes later, a bowl of bread mixed with honey in her hands.

“This was all I could find, for now. But I have put some maids to the task. They are makin’ more.”

She handed the bowl to Margaret, whose hands were busy with the quill and parchment. Margaret looked up, a confused and dazed expression on her face. She refused to take the bowl.

“’Tis for ye, child,” Flora added, as if her words would instantly make Margaret take the bowl. They didn’t.

“Why don’t you allow me…” Ava offered. She took the bowl from Flora and handed it to Margaret, who took it almost immediately. “Thank you,” she said.

She thought of coming up with something, some reasonable excuse as to why Margaret was still the way she was, but then she decided against it. They had seen enough, and in the few coming days, they would see quite a few more.

“She writes quite beautifully,” Flora remarked, her eyes scanning the parchment. “Did ye teach this to her?”

“I taught her the words,” Ava replied. “How to write, she came up with that on her own. She’s a very intelligent girl.”

“Aye, that is true. Took after her parents, this one.”

Ava wanted to ask about Margaret’s mother and where she was, but something stopped her, and so she pushed the thought away.

“If ye would like to eat, ye can come to the dining table,” Flora said, turning to her. “Or would ye like the bannocks as well?”

Ava smiled. “No.”

A tense silence fell between them, one that made Ava more uncomfortable than she liked to admit, but at the very last minute, Flora laughed.

“I am merely jokin’ with ye.”

A tentative smile spread across Ava’s lips. “Is it possible for me not to eat at the dining hall today as well?”

Flora nodded. “Of course. I shall have a maid bring ye a tray. Do ye want to eat here or in yer room?”

Ava turned to Margaret, who had a worried look on her face. She knew immediately what her answer was.

“Here, thank you very much.”

Flora nodded and walked away again, but not before giving Margaret a lingering look.

As she watched her go, Ava appreciated greatly the fact that Flora was quickly beginning to warm up to her. She didn’t think she could deal with a difficult sister among other things in this castle.

She looked out the window. Just like her room, Margaret’s room also had quite a view. The only difference was that from here, she could see the outer courtyard. She spotted a few men swinging their swords at each other—training, she assumed. Eventually, her eyes landed on Brodrick, who was standing to the side, watching two men lunge at each other.

His mouth moved, but she couldn’t hear what he said. She studied his appearance as he spoke. He was no longer in his traveling attire. Now, he was wearing a thin white shirt and trousers that were tucked into his boots. From above, she caught a glimpse of his pectorals and the way they heaved up and down as he spoke. She watched him fold his arms and then bark another order at the men. They changed their positions immediately, and she could see a faint smile on his face. He seemed to enjoy this—whatever he was doing.

And then, almost like he could feel her eyes on him, his head snapped up. Ava slipped away from the windowsill before their eyes could meet—or after they did.

Her heart pounded in her chest. Had he seen her? Did he know she was watching him?

A chill ran down her spine at the thought.

“Uh…” she trailed off, needing to do something. To look busy. “Are you enjoying your food, Margie?”

Margaret nodded, a content smile on her face as she chewed.

Ava nodded. “Good.”

Against every ounce of common sense she had left in her, she decided to move towards the window and look again.

What was she doing?

She placed her hand gently on the window sill. One second, two seconds. Then, she leaned forward ever so slightly. The field came into view first, then the courtyard, then the edge of the courtyard, then the men fighting.

She studied the men, all roughed up from rolling in the mud. Her eyes swept over them, trying to find Brodrick.

He was no longer there.

Ave retreated and swallowed. So he had seen her.

Like a demon battling with her spirit, she heard slow, heavy footsteps approach the door. Her heart skipped a beat.

Brodrick?

The footsteps grew louder and louder, each one making her heart thump harder.

The door opened, and Flora appeared, a dish in her hand.

Ava exhaled.

“I brought yer food. I couldnae trust the maids to deliver it right.”

Ava took the bowl and placed it straight on the bed. “Thank you, Flora. You’ve been incredibly kind.”

Flora looked past her and straight at the window sill. “I would steer clear of Brodrick’s men as much as possible if I were ye.”

“Really?”

“Aye. ‘Tis because there have been talks… ye ken?”

Ava frowned. “Talks?”

Flora nodded. “Look, I wouldnae want ye to worry. I wouldnae want ye to get hurt either. So, please steer clear of ‘em—that is all I’m goin’ to say.”

“Why?” Ava asked, her confusion growing by the second. “Are they mad because I’m English?”

It was not exactly lost on her, the disdain the people around here had for the English. She did not blame them, not for one bit. They were rightfully entitled to their anger.

“Well,” Flora said, her grip tightening on the doorknob, “Yer being English doesnae exactly help, ye ken?”

“So it’s not my being English? If it’s not that, then what is it?”

Flora cleared her throat. “Ye should eat. Ye’ve had quite a long day, and Brodrick would feed me to the horses if I dinnae get something in ye soon enough.”

Ava nodded.

Flora gave a slight bow and then stepped out, closing the door gently behind her.

Ava was left with Margaret once again, this time to ponder on what Flora had intended. Normally, she would chalk up Flora’s paranoia to the fact that she was a stranger and that the castle residents did not exactly take kindly to people like her.

But the quiver in Flora’s voice had convinced her there was more. It wasn’t just her being a stranger—or her being English. There was something else. Something they weren’t telling her.

So what in the name of God could it possibly be?

The question niggled at her as she moved towards her food and pulled back the dish cover.

If no one was going to tell her what it was, she would find out for herself.

A knock on the door jolted her out of her thoughts.

“Is there anything else you need, Flora?” Ava called, her eyes fixed on the door.

“’Tis me.”

Ava swallowed.

Brodrick.