Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick
Chapter One
Etna sat by the window of her father’s study, the hefty book in her lap long forgotten. She was staring at her father, who was looking at her with such a pleased smile that it only served to infuriate her even more.
“What makes ye think that I wish to tutor Laird MacAlistair’s daughter?” she asked him as she stood and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. Her father hadn’t even asked her. He had simply announced that he had accepted the offer on her behalf.
“All yer life ye wished to be a tutor,” her father, Dougal, reminded her. “Ye were but ten years of age, and ye always said ‘Dadaidh, I wish to be a tutor like ye when I grow up.’ Weel, ye’re all grown up noo, and Laird MacAlistair asked specifically for ye.”
That was another thing that Etna didn’t understand. “Why would the Laird ask for me?”
“Because he kens ye’re me daughter,” her father said. “And he kens that ye’ll teach his daughter weel, like I taught him weel when he was but a bairn. He wants someone he can trust, and he trusts us. Ye should be honored that he asked for ye.”
Honored. What is honor compared to fear?
Etna had heard everything there was to hear about Laird MacAlistair. It was hard to live under his rule and not know that he was an unpleasant man at best, a cruel man at worst. There were rumors about him that Etna couldn’t simply ignore, tales of his brutality that made her skin crawl. Everyone called him Beast because of his viciousness and his allegedly disfigured face that made mirrors break and children run to their mothers.
That’s what happens to evil men, Etna had heard one of the old women in the village say. Their evil shows on their face.
Of course, Etna didn’t believe in that. She knew enough about the world, had read enough books, and studied enough subjects to know that it was nothing but old wives’ tales. That was one of the reasons why she hated being in that village so much. Everyone was close-minded and wouldn’t even consider the possibility that the Laird had simply had an accident or had been wounded in some other way. They had a superstition for everything, and when Etna tried to tell them that they were wrong, she feared that they would hang her as a witch.
“Ye’ve wanted to leave this village ever since we came here,” her father reminded her. “Noo is yer chance.”
“Faither, I wished to go back to Edinburgh,” Etna reminded him. “Na the Laird’s castle. I want to go back home. I want to go back to the city.”
“Ye ken that we canna do that.”
Etna fell back down onto the chair with a sigh. Every time the two of them had that conversation, her father always told her the same thing: they couldn’t return to Edinburgh. Etna had tried to reason with him, telling him that she could work now, too, and that they would have two incomes to support themselves, but Dougal wouldn’t hear any of it. She was certain that it was more than their lack of money. She was certain that he had grown to like the quiet life of the village, but she couldn’t enjoy a single minute of it. Ever since they had left Edinburgh after her mother’s death, looking for a cheaper place to live, Etna had been dreaming about the moment that she would go back.
“Ye ken that bein’ a tutor for the Laird’s bairn is the best option ye have,” her father said as he walked up to her from behind his desk, perching himself on the windowsill next to her. “Ye always wanted to do this, Etna. Dinna let some rumors stop ye.”
“But everyone always says that the Laird is a terrible man,” Etna pointed out, looking at her father with wide, pleading eyes. “How can ye send me there when ye ken that?”
“Dinna listen to what everyone says,” Dougal told her, shaking his head. “I didna expect ye to believe what ye hear about the Laird. Ye ken how the people in these parts can be. Weel, I was his tutor when he was younger, and I ken that he’s a good man. I wouldna send ye to that castle if I thought that ye’d be in any sort of danger, Etna. I am askin’ ye to forget everythin’ that ye’ve heard about him until ye meet him yerself. Ye can make yer own judgment.”
“And ff me own judgment is the same as everyone else’s?” Etna asked.
With a sigh, Dougal patted her shoulder with a gentle hand. “Then ye’ll leave the castle and return here. I willna force ye to do anythin’ that ye dinna wish to do. I’m only askin’ ye to give the Laird a chance.”
The assurance that she could always return to her father put Etna at ease. It was good to know that if the Laird turned out to be a horrible man, she could always leave the castle, that she would always have a place with Dougal.
I should be grateful, really. I should be thankin’ him.
Her father had always been the most important person in her life, and he had always been so understanding, so accepting of everything that she wanted to do. He had taught her everything that she knew, and not once had he pressured her to marry. Some of her friends—bright, promising young women—had been lost to marriage, and she had no intention of heading down the same path.
And now, all that he was asking of her was to follow her dream to become a tutor, to guide a young life and teach it everything that she knew. She had the chance to do what she had always wanted to do, and she had almost turned it down because of some rumors.
“Alright,” she said, a small smile spreading over her lips. “I suppose that I can go to the castle and see how it is to live there. But I’m warnin’ ye, Faither . . . if I dinna like bein’ there, I will leave.”
“I have no doubts about that,” her father said, giving her a smile of his own as he stood, heading back to his chair.
Etna watched him for a few moments. Though his brown hair had started to grey at the temples, his eyes were as bright as ever, the same green as her own. At fifty-five, he was still young and sprightly—though a little pudgy from avoiding manual work—but he had never been alone before in his life. Etna had always been there for him, and he had always been there for her. The two of them had been taking care of each other ever since her mother had passed, leaving them all alone.
Will he be alright on his own here? What if he needs me help? Me company? How am I to leave him all alone?
It was an excuse, Etna knew, but she didn’t want to admit it. Unlike her, her father was quick to make a friend out of everyone he met, and he was anything but alone in the village. It was rare that it was just the two of them in the house, as people were coming in and out throughout the day, her father’s guests, all of them seeking his company.
The truth was that she was lonelier than he was. She wasn’t particularly shy, and she had had plenty of friends in Edinburgh, but the feelings of hopelessness had isolated her from those around her when she had moved to Beninroch, a remote little village three days’ ride from Inverness. Now, she thought it was too late to make a good impression on her neighbors.
Perhaps a fresh start is precisely what I need. Goin’ to the castle where no one kens who I am, where I may make some friends.
And after all, she could always visit her father. The castle wasn’t that far from the village, and she would make it clear that as long as she tutored the Laird’s daughter as agreed, she would be allowed to do as she wished.
“When am I required to be there?” Etna asked her father. Now that the decision had been made, she would have to get everything in order before she could leave. Although what exactly there was for her to do in that house, in that village, she didn’t know. She simply didn’t want to leave before ensuring that her father would be fine.
“As soon as possible,” Dougal told her. “Ye can leave the morrow if ye so wish.”
“The morrow?” Etna exclaimed. “It’s much too soon, Faither. What about ye?”
“What about me?”
“Weel . . . we dinna have much wood left in the house, and what about meat and—”
Dougal stopped her by raising a finger, shushing her. “Etna, I am perfectly capable of getting me own wood and meat, lass. Ye dinna have to worry about me. Ye’ve worried about me for too long. It’s time that ye leave this place.”
Etna didn’t bother telling her father that as much as she wanted to leave the village, she didn’t particularly want to go to the MacAlistair clan castle. There was only one place where she wanted to go, and that was Edinburgh, as she knew that no matter where she went, as long as she was in the countryside, the people surrounding her would be close-minded. She had had enough of people who thought that she couldn’t teach because she was a woman and that the only thing she was good for was marriage. But the two of them had had many arguments about it, and she never did manage to reason with him. She was wasting her breath, repeating it to him, and so she remained silent.
But perhaps if I do weel with the Laird’s daughter, he will give me the means to go to Edinburgh. Perhaps, I could negotiate with him.
That thought grew in Etna’s mind within moments, and suddenly, she had a plan. She would go to the castle, would do her best to teach the Laird’s daughter, and, once she saved up enough money, she would finally go back home, to her real home, to Edinburgh. And by then, she thought, she would surely have the credentials to teach many other children, and she could bring her father with her. He wouldn’t have to worry about his finances anymore.
“What are ye smilin’ about?” her father asked her, pulling her out of her thoughts. When Etna looked at him, she noticed that he was smiling, too, as though her own smile was contagious.
“Nothin’,” she lied. She decided that her father didn’t need to know about her plans, in case he loved the village as much as she suspected, and tried to put an end to them. “I’m only thinkin’ about the travel to the castle.”
From the look that Dougal gave her, Etna thought that he didn’t believe her, but thankfully he didn’t push her for a more truthful answer. Instead, he went back to his papers, and Etna went back to her book, feeling happier than she remembered being in a while.
It wasn’t only happiness, though, she noticed. It was hope too.
That night, she could hardly sleep, spending the hours staring at the ceiling and waiting for daylight to come. The prospect of returning to her beloved home had left her too excited to sleep, and all she could do was count the minutes until she could grab her horse and head to the castle.
* * *
At the first light of the morning, Etna stood from her bed, throwing the belongings that she needed in two bags. Before doing anything else, she headed to the study, knowing that her father would already be there.
She found him behind his desk, hunched over it. In front of him, he had her favorite book, the one that he read to her every night when she was young, and he didn’t seem to notice her as she entered. Etna watched him in silence, a flood of emotions overtaking her.
She would miss her father terribly, and she knew that the same would be true for him. If he asked her to stay, Etna would, but she knew that he would never do that. He wanted her to find her own place in the world, he had told her once. He wanted her to live her own life, and that meant that she would eventually have to leave him behind, at least for a while.
When Dougal noticed her, it startled both of them. Etna didn’t know how long she had been standing there, by the door, watching him, but she had forgotten that she was there.
“What are ye doin’, lass?” her father asked, his hand clutching his chest in his fright. “Ye almost scared me to death.”
“I didna want to bother ye,” she told him with a small shrug.
“Ye’re never a bother, Etna,” he said, and his voice was quiet, as though even the smallest sound could shatter the moment between them. “Are ye ready, then?”
Etna nodded, the words sticking to her throat, refusing to come out. Dougal approached her with a small smile, placing a hand on her shoulder.
“Ye ken that na matter where ye are, ye’ll always have me,” he said. “And it willna be long until I see ye again. Once ye’re settled, I’ll come to visit ye.”
“Promise?” It was all Etna could say, and even that one simple word sounded broken.
“I promise. Dinna fash yerself. The castle isna that far! I can visit ye, and ye can visit me.”
That promise lifted Etna’s spirits enough to bring a smile to her lips. As painful as it was to leave, she held onto that hope that she would see him again soon.
With that, her father let his hand fall off her shoulder, his gaze coming to rest on the two bags in her hands. He took both from her and began to walk to the door, nodding his head as an invitation for Etna to follow.
She could hardly believe that the time had come for her to leave. She let her father strap the saddle onto her horse and then the bags onto the saddle, the entire time searching for the right words to say, only to find that there were none. She didn’t know how to say goodbye. They had never been apart, and the time had come too soon.
I wish he could come with me. I’ll need him more than ever when I am in that castle.
Etna averted her gaze when her father approached her, wrapping his arms around her. She clung to him, but she didn’t dare look at him, knowing that the moment their eyes would meet, she wouldn’t be able to hold back the tears.
“I’ll miss ye, Faither,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady, even as her hands shook. “I’ll write to ye often, I promise.”
“I’ll miss ye, too,” her father said, and he sounded more emotional than Etna had ever heard him before. Once he let her go, she noticed that he, too, averted his gaze, and she wondered if it was something that she had inherited from him, that refusal to cry in front of others. “Weel . . . it’s time to go noo. Ye dinna want to be out all alone when it’s dark.”
Etna nodded in agreement, but her legs were lead and wouldn’t move. Her father must have noticed as he gave her a small, sad smile and made his way out of the stables. Etna saw him head back to the house, and only then could she bring herself to mount her horse.
As she rode toward the edge of their property, she turned her head and looked back at the house. Her father stood in front of the door, waving at her.
She whispered a promise in the wind to see him again soon.
