Beauty and the Beastly Highlander by Kenna Kendrick

Chapter Three

Traveling alone in the countryside was nicer than Etna had expected. She had never ventured so far out alone before, but she found the peace and quiet of the woods to be very calming. If there was one thing that she worried about, though, that was brigands.

She shook and trembled at the thought that a group of men could attack her at any moment. If she’d only have to fight one of them, perhaps she would make it, but an entire gang of brigands would be impossible to fight off on her own. It was that fear of the brigands that could be lurking in the shadows that made Etna glance behind her shoulder every now and then, whenever the road became too quiet.

Despite liking her solitude, a part of her wished that she had a companion to make her feel safer.

And just as she turned her head to face forward again, she saw something rush in front of her, though she couldn’t tell what it was. The creature spooked her horse, a mare that had never been calm to begin with, and as she neighed in fear and reared, forehooves flailing wildly.

Etna’s heart hammered in her chest as she felt herself slip out of the saddle. No matter how much she tried to hold onto the reins with her hands and onto the horse with her thighs, it seemed impossible. Etna fell off, shutting her eyes tightly as she braced for the impact.

But it never came. Her back never hit the ground, and though the breath was knocked out of her, she soon realized that she had fallen onto something much softer than the bare earth.

It took her a few moments to see that she was in the arms of a man. He seemed to have rushed to her, softening her fall and pulling her away from the hooves of her horse, which had, by then, run off to the edge of the path.

When Etna turned to look at her savior, she saw nothing but shadows, his face obscured by a hood. She could tell that he was a big man, though, tall, and muscular, with arms that wrapped entirely around her.

“Oh, thank ye!” Etna exclaimed as the man pulled her up to her feet. She dusted off her earasaid, trying to get as much dirt off it as she could, and then turned to the strange man once more. “I canna thank ye enough, ye saved me life.”

“Na need to thank me.”

Before Etna could say anything else, the man turned around and ran back into the woods with such speed that he disappeared behind the tree line in seconds. She frowned to herself. Where had the man come from, she wondered? And why was he in such a rush to get away from her?

Etna shook her head, thanking God that it wasn’t a brigand. Whoever that man was, as strange as he was, he had saved her, and she would always be grateful for it.

Once her fright had subsided, Etna walked to her horse, calming it down before she mounted it again to resume her journey. From there, it didn’t take her long until she saw the castle that was to be her home for the foreseeable future.

After living in the village for so long, Etna had forgotten what it was like to see such grand, imposing buildings. The castle rose from a verdant valley, its turrets so high that they seemed to touch the sky. Near the castle was a flowing river that ended in a glittering lake, the little sun that peeked through the clouds shining on its surface.

The closer she got to the castle, though, the more the sight confused her. She could see that all the windows had been boarded up, and it would have looked abandoned had it not been for the two guards that stood outside the gates.

What kind of place is this?

When the guards stopped her, Etna handed them the letter that the Laird had sent her father. As the gates opened for her, she began to see that the castle was even stranger than she had first thought.

There were people in the courtyard, many of them, in fact. Some were soldiers, others were servants, but they all had the same, solemn look on their faces. Nobody even dared to look up, their gazes fixed on the ground in front of them. The courtyard was bare, not a single flower in sight, and Etna could have sworn that the castle itself was darker than the area surrounding it, as though a cloud hung perpetually above it.

A dark castle for a dark man. It’s na wonder it looks like this if the Laird is anythin’ like people say.

“Ye must be Etna. Welcome!”

The voice was a cheerful lilt, a breath of fresh air in the darkness of the castle. Etna turned to see a man there, with blonde hair, brown eyes, and a handsome face. He was clean-shaven, and that only added to the childlike quality of that face, which still clung onto its youthful, rosy cheeks. He seemed to be at odds with his surroundings, his very presence radiating joy.

“I’m Lochlan MacAlistair,” the man said, and from the looks of it, he, too, had just gotten there, along with some other men. They were all taking their belongings from their horses, and as Etna watched them, she saw that the rest of them were just as moody and serious as the people she had seen coming in the courtyard. The only one who differed was Lochlan.

Etna bowed at the man, giving him a small, hesitant smile. Was she even allowed to smile? Would there be a terrible punishment waiting for her?

“Ye’ve been waitin’ for me, then?” Etna asked. “I suppose that I am to report to the Laird?”

“Och, na,” Lochlan said. “Me brother is a busy man. If there’s anythin’ that ye need, ye can ask me or our grandmaither, Arlene. She oversees wee Malina’s education, so I’m sure she can help ye with anythin’ ye need.”

What kind of man doesna take the time to care about his bairn’s education?

The first impression that Etna got matched what everyone else had been saying for so long: the Laird wasn’t a good man. She was certain that no one was smiling because of him and that all that darkness, all that heavy atmosphere, came from the very man who was supposed to lead them to prosperity.

But naturally, Etna didn’t voice any of those concerns to Lochlan.

“How is yer faither?” Lochlan asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between them. “I remember him verra weel, ye ken. Finley and I both love yer faither dearly. He taught us for years.”

It was strange for Etna to hear that the Laird—Finley—loved her father. She could believe it was true for Lochlan, as the man seemed to be pleasant, with plenty of love to go around. She wondered if the same was true for the Laird, despite what everyone said about him. After all, her father had described him as a very nice young man.

“He’s weel,” she assured Lochlan. “He’s told me about his time teachin’ ye, and he says that he wishes to visit soon.”

“He’d be more than welcome to come anytime,” Lochlan said. “I’ve missed him, and I’m sure that the Laird has missed him, too. Weel, if ye’re even a wee bit like yer faither, then Malina is in good hands.”

“I can assure ye that I’ll do my verra best,” Etna said. “It is me first time tutorin’ a bairn, but I’ll teach her everythin’ I ken. Everythin’ me faither taught me.”

Lochlan gave her a wide smile before he offered Etna his arm, which she gladly took. “I’ll take ye to meet me grandmaither. She’s the one in charge, after all, and I’m sure that she wants to meet ye.”

As Lochlan guided Etna through the castle, the feeling of despair only settled heavier on her shoulders. Inside the castle, the servants and the clansmen were even more morose, as though merely being there drained every last bit of happiness from them. No one even greeted her or met her gaze, and she stiffened against Lochlan, her discomfort clear in her posture.

“Dinna worry,” Lochlan told her, his voice a low whisper. “It isna as bad as it seems.”

“Why is na one even lookin’ at me?”

Lochlan sighed a heavy, weary sound. “Me brother has banned everyone from unnecessary talk, smilin’, laughin’, singin’ . . . havin’ any joy, really. But dinna hold it against him. He has his reasons.”

Etna couldn’t imagine what reasons anyone could have to forbid those around him from smiling, of all things. Smiles came naturally to her, and she couldn’t imagine how she would even survive there if the Laird had explicitly forbidden any form of joy.

Besides, Lochlan had smiled several times since Etna had first met him. Just because he was the Laird’s brother, it didn’t mean that he could be the only one in the entire castle who smiled.

“What about Malina?” she asked. “Is she allowed to smile?”

Lochlan huffed out a soft laugh at that. “Aye, I suppose she is.”

As he spoke, he opened the door to a spacious study. That room had open windows, Etna noticed, and the afternoon sun bathed it in soft light. Behind a carved desk sat an older woman, her hair white as snow and her eyes the same color as Lochlan’s.

“Ye must be Etna,” the woman said, standing with surprising agility for someone her age. She walked up to Etna, placing one hand on her shoulder and one on her cheek, and her stare was scrutinizing, boring into her. “Ye look just like yer faither, ye ken. Incredible similarity.”

“Excuse me grandmaither’s familiarity,” Lochlan said, teasing his grandmother.

“I’m an old woman,” she replied. “I dinna have time for formal introductions. Etna, dear, call me Arlene. Lochlan, leave us, please, lad.”

At his grandmother’s request, Lochlan gave Etna a bow before disappearing, closing the door of the study behind him. Etna watched Arlene as she walked back to her chair and then took her own seat across her in a large red armchair.

“Thank ye for acceptin’ me offer to come here,” Arlene said.

“Yer offer? I . . . I dinna understand.”

Her father had told Etna that the Laird had asked for her specifically. How was it that Arlene was telling her a different story now?

“Aye,” Arlene confirmed. “I sent that letter to yer faither, askin’ him to send ye to us. As I said, I’m an old woman, and I canna take care of Malina alone anymore. Lochlan helps, but the lad is of age to have his own family, and Malina needs a formal education. She needs a proper tutor.”

“What about the Laird?” Etna asked. “Does he ken that I’m here? Did he . . . did he na ask for me?”

Arlene gave her a curious glance. “The Laird doesna ken ye’re here,” she said. “Is that what yer faither told ye?”

She seemed amused, though Etna was anything but. “Aye. He said that the Laird invited me personally.”

“He always kent how to handle people, yer faither,” Arlene said. “But na matter. I invited ye here, and so ye are more than welcome. I hope that this doesna change anythin’ for ye.”

Etna could hardly believe that her father had tricked her. He had never lied to her before, at least as far as she knew. Were there other things that he had lied about, she wondered? And if so, just how many lies had he told her?

She couldn’t think about such things, not in front of Arlene. She wanted to remain polite, and she doubted that her anger would allow her to do that. And so, she pushed that anger deep down, where she wouldn’t have to think about it until she was alone.

“Na. Na, it doesna,” she told Arlene. “I still have a job to do.”

“Perfect. Ye’ll start first thing the morrow, then,” Arlene said. “I’ll take ye to meet Malina. I’m sure that ye’ll love her; she’s a bonnie wee lassie. I’ve taught her everythin’ I could, so she already kens plenty for her age.”

The two of them spoke about Malina some more, and Etna learned that she was seven years old, that her mother had died tragically, and that she already spoke some French and loved horses. Hearing about Malina reminded Etna of herself when she was young, and she felt an attachment developing before she had even met her. She only hoped that Malina would like her and want her as her tutor.

The light had faded from the sky by the time that Etna heard a knock on the door. When she turned to look, she saw Lochlan there, accompanied by a young woman—a maid.

“I think it’s time for Etna to retire to her chambers,” Lochlan told his grandmother, who nodded fervently.

“Aye, it’s me own time, too,” she said as she stood. Etna followed suit, but Arlene stopped her with a hand on her shoulder before she could leave. “The library is on the ground floor, at the end of the corridor by the stairs. And do yerself a favor, lass . . . keep away from the west wing.”

Before Etna had time to ask what was wrong with the west wing, Arlene was saying goodnight to everyone, leaving her with Lochlan and the maid. Etna decided it was better to not ask; eventually, she would find out.

“Dinna look so worried, Etna,” Lochlan said, giving her a reassuring smile as the three of them walked out of the room. “Mairi here will take ye to yer chambers, and ye’ll see that the morrow, everythin’ will seem a little brighter.”

Etna very much doubted that, but she didn’t confess that to Lochlan. Instead, she nodded and bid him goodnight, following the maid to her new bedroom.

Once the door was closed, the dam opened. Etna couldn’t hold back the tears that welled in her eyes.

She couldn’t imagine how anyone could live there. She couldn’t imagine being so sad, so hopeless every single day.

Etna threw herself onto her bed, crying herself to sleep and thinking that Lochlan was wrong. It could only get worse.