Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson

Chapter Ten

Beitris

Beitris groaned, turning in her bed as something thudded in the distance. Her eyes blinked open, her vision blurry with sleep as the pounding continued, growing slightly louder. Slowly, she rose, hissing when her feet touched the chilled brick floor. She shoved her feet into a pair of slippers lying near her bed and reached for her shawl, wrapping it lightly around her shoulders before stepping towards the door. Light glimmered in the room, making her wince. She wondered if she slept past breakfast. It wouldn’t be so surprising given the state of things. Sleeping in a dark castle without knowing a single person, feeling as if things were slipping through her fingers, Beitris felt like she could sleep for centuries.

She cracked the door, peeking through and seeing a maid with an elderly man standing behind her. The maid dipped into a quick curtsy, her cheeks flushed and her hair tied messily into a low plait hanging over one shoulder.

“Apologies, my lady,” the maid whispered, keeping her gaze to the floor. “The carpenter has arrived quite early.”

“Oh,” Beitris breathed, pushing the door further open. She clutched her shawl, heat rising in the back of her neck as she realized she wasn’t properly groomed for guests. “I didn’t know—” Beitris paused, taking a moment to turn around and stare at the maze of trunks filling her chamber. She would need time to dress, but she felt rude asking the carpenter to wait. Beitris didn’t think he would come so quickly.

Did Fraser send for the carpenter as soon as he left her?

Beitris’s heart fluttered. Why did he care? Or was this his way of showing his desire for their arrangement to succeed? She swallowed the lump in her throat, yet breathing was difficult. Her heart was swelling with joy and surprise, and she didn’t know what to say or do first.

“I will give ye a moment to change,” came the carpenter’s deep voice.

“Please,” Beitris breathed, turning her attention back to the carpenter and the maid. “Could ye escort Mr.—”

“Clark,” the carpenter finished for Beitris. “Owen Clark, my lady.”

Beitris smiled and nodded. “Could ye please escort Mr. Clark to the great hall, where he can break his fast? I will be down shortly, once I have changed into proper attire.”

“Of course, my lady,” the maid whispered before quickly turning on her heel and guiding Mr. Clark through the dark halls.

Beitris closed the door, leaning against the wood and pressing her head to the threshold. Her skin felt hot, her heart swelling with immense joy. She truly didn’t think Fraser would send for a carpenter. Of course, she hoped for it. She wanted a good home for her books, a place for them in this dark, unknown fortress. The past couple of nights, she missed seeing her shelves, the ones her father had made for her when she was a little girl.

At least now she had something.

She had hope.

Perhaps, she could be friendly with Laird Fraser MacClery. It was kind of him to think of her, to offer this wonderful gift to her. She smiled as she thought of him the previous day, standing before her, yet keeping his distance. These last couple of days, he had tried everything within his power to make her comfortable.

However, his face still reminded her of the man from the garden. Her smile fell, and her stomach twisted as fear prickled her skin. Her gaze drifted to the floor, and her hand tightened around her shawl as she tried to fight those feelings.

Fraser had been kind to her, but what if he hurt her? she wondered. Beitris grimaced. She shouldn’t be thinking like this. He was not that man from the garden. She knew it. They had discussed it thoroughly. He was completely different, yet she couldn’t stop feeling the way she did. She couldn’t stop protecting herself from feeling that pain. She would never permit another man to touch her like that, to take from her. Fraser was not that man,she reminded herself. He called for a carpenter. He placed guards at her door. It wasn’t even possible for him to be at the Dunbars given he was still traveling. She should feel grateful for all he had done for her.

However, she never wanted to feel vulnerable nor weak ever again.

Beitris pushed away from the door, moving as fast as she possibly could so as not to keep Mr. Clark waiting too long. She nearly stumbled over a trunk filled with books on her way towards her garments. Throwing open the lid, she frowned at the dresses greeting her. She grabbed one, brown and simple, and wrinkled her nose in distaste at the bent and twisted fabric staring back at her. This wouldn’t do, she thought while shoving the dress to the side and grabbing a dark green one. It was just as wrinkled as the brown dress, yet its dark color masked the bends and twists better than the other.

It would have to do, she surmised after a long moment of staring and wondering.

After donning her garments and splashing water on her face, she strode from her rooms and walked through the corridors. Her movements were slow as she focused on tying her hair into a simple plait. She stopped before the staircase, finishing with her hair before stepping downwards and towards the great hall. Silence greeted her. Only the slight flickering of the candelabras met her ears. There were hardly any windows as she stepped down the staircase. Her hand pressed against the stone, using it to guide her slowly towards the ground floor.

Light beamed through the open doors of the keep once she stepped onto the landing. A soldier strode into the hall, followed by a squire. If Beitris had to guess, she supposed the sun only rose an hour at most before, meaning the castle was only beginning to awaken. She held her head high, nervousness piercing through her and making her hands grip at one another. It had only been a day since her father left, and without him here to guide her, she felt lost—unsure of herself.

Beitris inhaled deeply, trying to calm her breath. She edged towards the hall, forcing a smile as she entered inside. The large room was beaming with light while a handful of soldiers sat at the long tables, bent over their plates filled with bread and cheese. They talked softly amongst each other.

Beitris’s gaze was captured by Fraser sitting at the front. He hadn’t noticed her. His attentions were fastened to the table, his head bent low as he listened to the golden-haired guard speaking lowly at his side. Beitris remembered the soldier from the night of the feast yet did not recall his name.

“My lady,” she heard someone speak at her side and quickly turned. Her smile turned genuine when she found Mr. Clark hovering near her. “May I tend to yer room now?”

“Aye, of course, Mr. Clark.” Out of the corner of her eye, Beitris saw Fraser’s head perk up, and once again, her stomach fluttered with something new and strange, something she had never felt for anyone before. “Thank ye, so much.”

Mr. Clark shook his head. “Ye should be thanking the laird, my lady.”

Beitris opened her mouth, yet she promptly closed it, not knowing what to say but knowing the carpenter was right.

“I should be an hour or two.”

Beitris nodded, watching him leave for a moment and then turning her attention back to her husband-to-be. Her breathing stalled, finding Fraser rising from his seat. His kind blue eyes watched her as she slowly strode towards him. Beitris couldn’t look away, although she wanted to. She did not know what this feeling was, and she was slightly terrified of what it meant. Fraser was a stranger. She had only known him two days at most. However, his kindness moved something in her. It awakened something she didn’t think she would ever feel.

And she was terrified by the thought of wanting to get to know him, to spend more of her time with him, despite the worry flowing through her.

He was not that man,she reminded herself.

“My lady,” Fraser said with a curt bow.

Beitris blinked, her face flushing with embarrassment as she realized she had crossed the entirety of the hall without realizing it. “My laird,” she said with a modest dip of her head. She grimaced at the slight tremble in her voice.

“I see Mr. Clark has arrived.”

“Aye.” Beitris couldn’t stop smiling. She couldn’t stop wringing her hands, and she promptly shoved them behind her back to keep Fraser from noticing. “He will be tending to my room for some time.”

“Ah, so ye will be without yer rooms for the morn.” Fraser’s smile widened, and once again, Beitris felt that pull towards him, the want urging its way into her. “Perhaps, after ye break yer fast, we could go for a ride. Ye could ride in yer own saddle,” he added quickly.

Beitris clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to stifle her giggles, demanding to escape as she stared at the urgency in his gaze. He was offering her a bridge, a stepping stone so they may be able to make something of this arrangement between them. Sadly, their meeting hadn’t gone well, but Beitris was finding hope. She nodded, her smile growing as she lowered her hand.

“I would be happy to join ye, my laird.”

* * *

Beitris wiggled in her saddle, trying to get comfortable as she rode next to Fraser down the steep hill and towards the fields below Castle Dunnegan. She found it strange looking upon these lands and how, only two days before, she had been riding through them, hating every moment of it and wondering what her husband was like. Those two days felt like years. Too much had happened, and just thinking of the memories exhausted her.

She glanced at Fraser, who seemed at ease for once as he stared at his lands. He was riding the black stallion her father brought him. Although initially, she thought it a foolish gift, given most laird’s had their own horses to tend to, she felt proud Fraser had found use in the extravagant beast. He held his reins loosely, his shoulders relaxed, his eyes closing as he felt the wind rustling through his hair. His white leine was fitted to him, exposing the muscles of his arms and the vastness of his chest. Gazing at him like this, Beitris thought him handsome. There was a sharpness to his jaw she wished to touch with her fingertips, wondering if she would feel smooth skin or rough morning stubble. There wasn’t a scar on his body, at least none that she could see, which made her even more curious about the young laird before her.

She frowned, her gaze lingering on Fraser’s lips before jerking her attention forward. Once again, memories of that dark night in the garden seeped into her, making her shiver in terror, and her hands tighten on her reins.

“I suppose ye know these lands well, my laird,” said Beitris, desperate to think of anything but that night. “Where do ye plan on taking me?”

Fraser’s eyes opened, and he chuckled as he turned towards her. Her breath hitched as she met his gaze, filled with adoration. That couldn’t be it, she told herself. The laird barely knew Beitris. How could he adore someone he hardly knew?

“It’s a surprise, my lady.”

Beitris frowned. “I’m sure ye must know: I hate surprises.”

Fraser tossed back his head, bursting into laughter. The sound brought a smile to her face. “I suspected as much, but do not fear, my lady, this is nothing unusual. It’s a place I often visited as a lad.”

“How do ye know if the place is still there?” Beitris squared her shoulders, shifting once more in her saddle. Her gaze shifted to the soldiers following behind them, frowning deeply when they smiled and nodded in return. “Ye have been gone quite a long time.”

“Oh, ‘tis definitely there, my lady. Fear not.” Fraser moved his horse closer to her, his hand darting out to push a stray strand behind her ear. Her heart skipped a beat and her gaze lifted to meet his. She felt her face heat, not knowing what to say or do as she stared up at him, at his parted lips. “It’s a place in the wood, and it’s most definitely not easily destroyed.” He tilted his head, which gave him a boyish, coy look. “Being in nature has always made me feel calm.”

Beitris found herself nodding. “Aye, I used to go to the gardens when I was a lass.” She frowned and turned away as her mind was flooded with memories of sitting in her mother’s garden, reading a book while hiding away from the servants and their gossiping. “My mother’s garden was the most beautiful. Father told me she used to tend to the flowers every day, even when she had me in her belly.”

“Yer mother sounds very nurturing.”

A soft smile came to Beitris’s lips. “Aye, I suppose she was.” She sighed. Her eyes prickled with tears, and quickly she blinked them away, not wanting to lose herself with an audience standing watch from behind. “I wouldn’t know, though. She died shortly after she had me. The healer couldn’t save her.” Beitris ground her teeth, anger boiling within her as she recalled the servants’ gossip, their dark words, their taunting laughter.

“Killed her own mother.”

“The devil must have sent her.”

“How will the laird ever care for a daughter?”

“Wild, isn’t she? Perhaps, the fae replaced the lady’s child with a changeling.”

As much as Beitris missed Gordon Castle, she was glad to be rid of the gossiping maids and their cruel looks. She didn’t understand how she earned their ire. Perhaps, it was the fact her father cared for her dearly. Most lairds would have been worried or possibly angered by the prospect of being left with a babe to care for on their own, especially a baby girl who would never inherit the clan. She never asked her father his thoughts on the matter. He had always loved her, doted on her, and desired to ensure her future safety. After her mother’s death, it was always the two of them, and he had provided her with everything and more.

Beitris sniffed and wiped at her eyes. She straightened her back. The low voices behind her called her attention, and she turned around, narrowing her eyes at the three guards still watching them from behind.

“Is everything alright?” Fraser asked, following her gaze.

Beitris pursed her lips. “Aye, I suppose it is.”

Fraser chuckled. “Ye do not look fine, my lady.”

Beitris frowned, but she kept her mouth closed, not wanting to ruin the short moment they had together that didn’t involve her smacking him nor yelling at him.

Fraser shook his head, his smile widening. “Spit it out, Beitris. I’m sure I’ll hear of it eventually.”

Beitris pursed her lips. She knew he was right. Eventually, she wouldn’t be able to hold her tongue any longer, and she was thankful he cared enough to notice her discomfort. With a sigh, she finally said, “Did ye really need to bring so many guards? I feel as if we are journeying to the next clan.”

Fraser bent forward, his shoulders shaking. Beitris’s frown deepened as a thought ran through her that perhaps something was wrong with him. He turned towards her, tears running down his face as laughter broke through his lips. Her eyes widened, watching him smack his leg while he tossed back his head.

“What is it, my laird?” Beitris asked, not understanding. What was so amusing?

“Is the laird alright?” asked one of the guards, the blonde one, as he pushed his horse to the front.

Beitris shook her head. “I only asked him a simple question.”

The blond soldier raised an eyebrow, and Beitris sighed, knowing she would need to explain.

“I asked him why he brought so many soldiers to tend to us.”

The blonde’s lips twitched upwards, and she watched with disdain as his hand rose, covering his mouth while laughter emerged. “Kenneth!” the blond shouted, waving his hand forward.

The two guards sidled next to him, stopping in front of both Beitris and Fraser. Fraser was still wiping the tears from his eyes. The tall and thin soldier, Kenneth, frowned while asking, “What happened? Why have we stopped?”

The blond shook his head, unable to contain himself any longer as his laughter took over him.

“Scott, stop,” Fraser gasped, clutching his stomach. “Ye will only make it worse.”

Beitris scowled, dropping her reins to cross her arms. “I don’t see what’s so amusing. I only asked why the laird needed to bring so many soldiers for a simple outing.”

Kenneth and the big, brawny man at his side sputtered, their eyes widening while they busted into a fit of laughter. Beitris’s scowl darkened, and she snatched her reins, tempted to turn around and return to the castle. Fraser’s hand on hers made her stop, and she met his wide smile, her heart fluttering once more at the feel of his warm palm gently touching her.

“I did not want ye accusing me of anything improper,” Fraser said while gesturing towards his guards. “Scott, Kenneth, and Gavin are the best men I have. I thought ye will feel safer with them at yer side.”

The blond, Scott, scoffed. “Says ye. I wanted to see her smack ye again.”

Beitris’s scowl melted as she watched Kenneth smack Scott’s back. “Come now. I came to protect the laird.” He gestured towards Beitris and added with a wink, “She may look small, but I suspect she can easily push him off his horse.”

The big man, Gavin, she suspected, nodded his head in agreement. “Small, but feisty.” His smile made the tension ease within her, and Beitris covered her mouth as a giggle emerged.

“I thank ye for considering me,” she said while shaking her head, “but I’d prefer to get to know ye without an audience watching us.”

Kenneth pouted. “We wouldn’t be that much in the way.”

Scott smacked Kenneth’s shoulders. “Come, now. We should listen to the lady. She feels uncomfortable with us watching her.”

Kenneth’s bottom lip stuck out farther, making Beitris chuckle. Her gaze wandered towards Fraser, meeting his wide smile. His head lulled up and down, a hint of shyness in the way he moved, the way he shifted his gaze from her.

“There could be brigands within the wood,” said Fraser. “However, I believe we can have a wee time to ourselves. Scott, Kenneth, Gavin, why don’t ye three wait at the path in the wood.”

“Aye, my laird,” the three said in unison.

Beitris nearly burst into a fit of laughter as she turned to the guards, noting the hint of sorrow in their tones and the disappointed look in their gazes.

Fraser chuckled. “Where we’re going is not far from the path on foot. I’m sure ye three will be able to run to my aid if she decides to push me into the mud.”

Beitris's hands loosened on the reins as she followed Fraser towards the wood, hearing the slow clip-clop of Scott, Gavin, and Kenneth following behind on their horses. Excitement bloomed within her as they entered the edge of the forest—excitement mixed with something else. She didn’t understand this feeling, didn’t understand how she could go from hating Fraser one day to enjoying his company the other.

Beitris winced. Fraser had asked the men to join them not only for her protection but for his own. She wished she could take back her accusations, knowing now she had been too hasty. He was always thinking of her, yet she couldn’t rid herself of her worry. She couldn’t let it go, but she wanted to.

What’s done is done, she told herself.

They continued deeper into the wood, following the dirt path streaked with light seeping into the treetops. Birds sang their songs from above while a breeze rustled the leaves around them. At the sound of trickling water, Fraser held up a hand, and his men stopped instantly.

Beitris watched Fraser jump down from his mount, tying the reins to a tree before offering her his hand. She took it tentatively, his grip gentle on her wrist as he tugged her towards him. He kept his attentions fastened to her face rather than the skirts twisting around her ankles as she slid down from her horse. His hand didn’t release hers, and she followed him deeper into the trees away from the path, allowing him to guide her through the thick bushes and the sticks littering the earthen floor.

And Beitris realized with both worry and joy: she didn’t want him to let go of her hand.