Page 9 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander (Falling for Highland Villains #5)

CHAPTER 9

She pulled the door open, and Brodrick walked in. He studied her for the briefest of seconds before looking away.

His eyes darted to Margaret, who was finishing the last of her food. She looked up at Brodrick, and for a second, he wondered if she was going to have a negative reaction like before. Was she going to recoil to herself again or withdraw her hands from him?

She did not.

Brodrick took a step closer to her, his dark boots clicking loudly on the floor.

“Are ye doing well, lassie?” he asked.

Margaret nodded.

“Good.” He turned to Ava, a quizzical expression on his face. “Do ye have the time for a quick walk around the castle?”

Ava turned to her half-eaten dish and then back to him. “I…”

Brodrick, who caught sight of the food almost immediately, froze for barely a second, before regaining his composure. “I apologize. I didnae ken ye were… busy.”

Ava frowned. “It’s just food.”

Brodrick shrugged. “Aye. Well, they always say that food is the biggest way to enrich the soul.”

Ava scoffed. “And who said that?”

“Some… author.”

Ava swallowed. “What?”

“I said, some author. Of course, I cannae remember his name now, but I—” Brodrick broke off.

Something about Ava’s reaction had caught his attention. Something akin to shock—no, intense surprise was written all over her face, as if his mentioning an author was the last thing she had expected to hear.

“Wait.” He took a step closer to her. “Is the look on yer face some curiosity about the author’s name”—he took another step towards her—“or is it shock at the fact that I read ?”

Ava exhaled. “No… No, I wouldn’t?—”

“Och, lass. It never crossed yer mind, nae even once, that I could be well read? What do ye see when ye look at me? Just some Highlander with brawn but nay brains?”

“Well, you haven’t exactly helped matters by always reaching for your sword at every possible inconvenience.”

“I was tryin’ to protect ye,” Brodrick argued.

“Yes, I know that. But sometimes, matters can be solved in ways other than sword fights.”

“Do ye think I dinnae ken that?”

Ava took a step backward, the heat radiating from his body seeping into her, making her cheeks flush. She prayed he wouldn’t notice.

“Was that why ye were lookin’ down at the courtyard? Waitin’ to see if I’m goin’ to… reach for me sword?” Brodrick asked, his voice lower now, laced with something else. Something other than vindication.

“Perhaps…” Ava whispered. “Perhaps I might have judged you a little too harshly.”

Brodrick leaned forward. “Say that again?”

“You heard me.”

“I dinnae think I heard ye right.”

“That is not my problem.”

“Hmm.” Brodrick smirked. “The Englishwoman admittin’ she was wrong? There is a God, and he still does miracles.”

“My opinion can change anytime, My Laird. I would not advise that you get too comfortable.”

A grin split his face. He hadn’t had to deal with anyone this challenging for such a long time. Something about Ava holding her own was incredibly… thrilling.

“Would it be also a shock to ye to learn that I have a study?”

Ava laughed. “And how old is the dust on those books?”

Brodrick shook his head, unable to mask the amusement on his face. “Ye really are something, are ye nae?”

“I could say the same thing about you… My Laird.”

Brodrick nodded. “Fair enough.”

He turned to look at Margaret again and was profoundly surprised she was looking right back at him. Not only was she looking at him, but she also had a small smile on her face.

“Let them ken if ye need more food, lassie. Ye can have anything ye want here,” he said to her, returning her smile, before turning back to Ava. “I should invite ye to me study, but I have a feeling ye will have even more to say about the state of it.”

Ava shrugged. “Treasure is still treasure even if covered by mud.”

His lips twitched, and his eyes twinkled. “I shall leave ye be, for now. I have a meeting with some of me men.”

He gave a little bow, which was reciprocated, and then made his way out of the room.

* * *

Ava watched him leave, unable to take her eyes off his back and the way his white shirt clung to it. Nor could she look away from his dark pants and the way he filled them out. The way his form grew even more visible as he walked away from her.

She looked away immediately when he neared the door and turned back.

“I was thinking,” she called, right as he grabbed the doorknob. “I was thinking of taking a walk around the castle, so I familiarize myself with it and know where to take Margaret when she feels ready to leave her room.”

Brodrick studied her, a hint of concern on his face. “I cannae have ye wander the castle unsupervised.”

“Why? Afraid I might get lost in one of the rooms? Or the chimneys?”

He huffed. “Just… stay put. It’s better for all of us that way.”

Ava shrugged.

He closed the door behind him, and Ava was finally able to exhale. The warmth in her cheeks was beginning to subside, and rather profound exhaustion swept through her as she turned to Margaret, who was now holding the parchment once again.

“He is quite the piece of work, isn’t he?” she asked.

Margaret giggled.

As Ava made her way back to her dish to finish her food, she tried not to make it a bigger deal than it was.

The girl just laughed. At a joke about her father.

Perhaps she might make even more progress, at a quicker rate than Ava had initially estimated.

* * *

As the sun slowly dipped beneath the horizon, Ava rose from her bed. She thought back to when she had first arrived.

Flora had said that a cèilidh would be held the day after tomorrow, and for some reason, Ava didn’t know how to feel about that. She had just arrived at the castle. It would be rather brazen of her to assume that anyone except Margaret liked her. She was not ready to step on any toes, and unfortunately, one of the ways to avoid that was to attend the cèilidh.

“I am certain ye will want to make conversation with the men at the cèilidh. They come from every corner of the town. Some come from as far as Inverness.”

Ava had nodded, of course, because what else was she supposed to do?

She stepped into the bathing chamber, where a giant tub was already waiting for her, all thanks to Flora, who had arranged it after she returned from Margaret’s room. She unlaced her dress and let it fall to the floor as she stepped towards the tub. Her left leg went in first, then her right.

The coldness of the water eased her frayed nerves as she let her body take in the full sensation. She hadn’t been this relaxed in quite a while. She closed her eyes for a minute and thought of the cottage, of the letter she had planned to write to Sarah and Elizabeth, of the other girls she left behind, of Margaret, of the previous afternoon when Brodrick had crashed into her kitchen, of his glistening skin, of the way the muscles around his jaw tensed up whenever he was listening to her speak.

Her eyes flew open in shock.

What?

Why was she thinking of the Highlander? There wasn’t much to see. He was just a Highlander—like most of them were. He may be a little intelligent and not prone to take offense at every single thing, but at the end of the day, he was still a Highlander . There was no length he wouldn’t go to if it meant preserving his honor.

She needed to get him out of her mind. She was here for one thing and one thing only—taking care of Margaret. She couldn’t let herself get distracted by petty things like the Highlander’s muscular arms and how they caught the sunlight in certain moments. No, she couldn’t let thoughts like that fill her head.

She let the water lap at her pale skin for a few more minutes before stepping out of the tub. She made her way back to her room, slipped into a slightly more comfortable dress, and sat on her bed. Her mind drifted to Sarah and Elizabeth one more time. What were they doing now? She thought of Henrietta and wondered what they were all up to. Had her plans worked? Were they surviving well without her presence?

Perhaps she might just write the letter, after all.

She moved closer to the table right next to the door, rubbing her forehead. A candle burned slowly on the table, providing the perfect light. She grabbed a quill and a piece of parchment, thinking she would run out of parchment soon if she kept going through them at that rate. The number of parchments and quills she had handed to Margaret in just the few days she had left the cottage were so numerous that she couldn't keep track. For now though, she would focus on this letter and try to finish it as fast as she could. The parchment and quill issues may come later.

My dear Elizabeth,

I just arrived at Castle MacDunn. While it is nothing compared to life at the cottage, it is not as awful as I thought it would be. I am making slight progress with Margaret, and if all goes well, I will be back before…

A wave of laughter erupted from below her. She dropped her quill and walked to the windowsill. A group of men were sitting under one of the giant trees in the courtyard, clutching their bellies as they burst into more laughter.

She watched them longingly and wondered if there was a way she could have a conversation with the people outside. The fact that she was not exactly satisfactorily welcomed had not been lost on her but if there was a way she could change that, she would most definitely love to make that attempt. Maybe this way, she could change what people thought about her and use her words to shape their beliefs. Not all English people were out to get them. She could help them see that. Her heartbeat thumped as further thoughts streamed into her mind. Brodrick did warn her not to stray too far, not to indulge herself in things that were of no concern to her. She knew where he was coming from but at the same time, she was a grown woman. She could do whatever she wanted.

Deciding the letter could wait, she grabbed a cloak, wrapped it around herself, and walked out of her room. Castle MacDunn was bigger than she was giving it credit for, and the more she walked, the quicker realization dawned on her.

Perhaps she would take a proper tour of the castle later, when she was settled in. But for now, she let her eyes linger on some of the rather interesting sights she noted on her way to the courtyard.

There were several rooms in the castle, and one of them, she noticed, was a surgery. The smell of several roots, saps, and herbs wafted from the door. In the room was a woman old enough to be her mother.

Ava took a step closer to the door and watched the woman closely for a few seconds.

“Greetings,” she muttered after a while.

The old woman jerked her head up, a look of mild shock and utter fear on her face.

“Apologies,” Ava added, tugging the cloak tighter around herself. “I do not mean to startle you.”

The woman’s eyes narrowed on her. Her bright grey hair grew shinier as she stepped towards her, a vial of what looked like laudanum dangling between her fingers.

“Ye must be the wee Englishwoman who came with the Laird’s daughter,” the woman noted.

Ava placed a hand on her cloak and bobbed a slight curtsy. “My name is Ava. I am pleased to make your acquaintance.”

The woman nodded. “I am Irene.”

“Irene,” Ava echoed, as if testing out the name. “You must be the healer.”

“Most days,” Irene confirmed. “Me son Joseph is here most of the time. Ye fall sick on one of those days, say yer goodbyes and pray ye meet the Lord well. He is that terrible.”

Ava laughed.

Irene studied her, a small smile on her face. “Welcome to Castle MacDunn. I’d steer clear of the courtyard if I were ye.”

There it was again.

First Flora, and now Irene. Why was everyone asking her not to step in there?

“May I ask why?” she finally asked, refusing to drop the subject unless she received an explanation.

Irene shrugged. “Sometimes, ‘tis better to leave some things unknown.”

A frown creased Ava’s brow, but she decided not to push any further. One way or another, she was going to find out for herself.

“It is quite lovely to meet you, Irene,” she offered.

Irene nodded.

Ava left, making her way to the courtyard. Just because a few people warned her not to go to the courtyard, didn’t mean she was just going to take their word for it. For now, she needed to familiarize herself with the place. Everything else could come later.

“Alright, Castle MacDunn,” she whispered as she made her way to the crisp evening air outside the musty building. “Let us see exactly what it is that I am dealing with here.”