Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson

Chapter Seven

Beitris

She watched him opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. His eyes were wide as they watched her, filled with confusion. Did he think he could trick her into believing it wasn’t him? She remembered the man as clear as day. They were one and the same. The laird before her was a bit softer-spoken and cleanlier than the man she met in the garden. However, that meant nothing. Any man could change their manner in order to seduce a woman or make her believe she had gone mad.

“Do not pretend as if we’ve never met before,” she said angrily.

Fraser shook his head. “But, my lady, we have not.”

Beitris scoffed and stalked past him. “Do not lie to me!” she shouted while stepping down the stairs. She couldn’t believe this man, kissing her and then pretending like it never happened.

“But I’m not lying,” Fraser shouted after her, his voice echoing in the corridor. She could hear his footsteps following her. Her heart twinged with fear while she looked down the halls, wondering which way would lead her back to her quarters. She wanted to get as far away from this man as possible, lock the door, and refuse to open it until her father promised to return her safely back to the Gordon Clan.

“Beitris, please.”

She felt his hand touch hers lightly and spun around, gasping when she found him towering over her. He was so close she could see the stubble beginning to grow along his jaw. Her stomach twisted while her heart pounded in her ears, yet her body refused to move. It was like she was a stag, caught on a hunt and unable to escape, terror fastening her to the floor at her feet.

“Please, Beitris,” said Fraser while slowly releasing her. He took a step away from her. “I apologize deeply for whatever it is that I have done to earn yer ire. It was never my intent. But ye must believe me. I was never at Dunbar Castle, nor would I ever force myself on a woman.”

Beitris shook her head. “Lies,” she whispered. “He looked just like ye.”

She watched Fraser sigh. His shoulders slumped forward in defeat. Confusion still marred his brow, and when he turned his cerulean gaze to her, she felt as if this man before her was completely different than the man she met in the garden. He seemed concerned. There was a softness to him she didn’t recall from that night. The other had been amused and made her insides twist in terror. Yet, she didn’t have the same feeling when she was around this laird.

He was different than before. But how was that possible? Had she somehow fallen asleep in a fae circle and found herself awakening within a tale? There was no possible way the man could be one way one night and then another a different night. No, the laird had to be tricking her. As soon as her father returned to the Gordon Clan, Fraser would return to his wicked ways.

“When were ye at the Dunbars?” Fraser asked, drawing her thoughts away from tales and her father.

She jutted out her chin and planted her hands on her hips. “Nearly two weeks ago. Before the storms.”

Fraser nodded while stroking his chin. “And why were ye attending to the Dunbars?”

Beitris laughed bitterly and crossed her arms. “Why do ye ask me? Ye should know.”

Fraser’s gaze narrowed, and his lips thinned in impatience. “I seem to have forgotten. Please, do remind me, my lady.”

“It was to celebrate Laird Hendry’s fifteen years of lairdship.”

Fraser’s brow pinched together in confusion. He turned away from her, pacing back and forth while tapping his chin. “I don’t recall if I ever received that invite,” he murmured.

Beitris scoffed. “Perhaps ye came uninvited. Were ye so intoxicated ye forgot?”

Fraser stopped and spun around, a bright smile taking hold, making her insides flutter with something she didn’t recognize. His alarming blue eyes stared back at her, filled with joy as he lifted a finger. “Aye, I remember now.”

Beitris sighed in frustration and rolled her eyes. “Oh, do ye? So ye finally remember forcing yerself on me. How wonderful.” She turned on her heel, unable to stand being in his presence any longer. He made her feel confused, made her question herself, and she hated feeling as if she was going mad.

“Aye, I found the letter in my father’s study among other missives sent since my leaving France,” Fraser called after her, his words echoing throughout the corridor. “But unfortunately, I was unable to attend. I was still traveling at the time.”

Beitris stopped mid-step. Slowly, she turned around, feeling rage boil within her, making her hands fist at her side. She smiled bitterly. “Ye think I will believe such an outlandish lie?”

Fraser shrugged while crossing his arms. “‘Tis the truth, my lady. Ask anyone.”

Beitris looked around the corridor, but they were all alone. Everyone was at the feast or in the kitchens. She stalked down the hall. Whether she liked it or not, she was going to get to the bottom of this. He had already made her look like a fool in front of both their clansmen. She wasn’t going to permit him to make her feel foolish twice. As she rounded the corner, she noticed the great hall’s entrance, finding a servant boy carrying a tray filled with broken plates and cups. His eyes widened on her, and she wondered if he had heard their argument. His hands trembled, making the items rattle while he attempted to inch past, his gaze flicking to the stone at his feet. He edged towards the courtyard. His shoulders were lifted, nearly touching his reddening ears while he stepped towards the doors.

“Ye there,” she called out to the boy, making him stop instantly.

“My-my lady,” the boy stuttered while dipping into a curt bow.

Beitris stalked towards him, but she slowed her pace when she noticed him flinch in fear. She stopped a foot before the servant boy, relaxing her shoulders and putting on her most charming smile, not wanting to scare him away. “What is yer name?”

“Br-Bram, my lady,” the boy stuttered, his gaze slowly lifting to hers.

Her smile brightened. “‘Tis good to make yer acquaintance, Bram. I hope yer enjoying the feast.”

Bram’s head bobbed up and down vigorously. “Aye, my lady. Of course, my lady.”

“I was hoping ye could answer a very important question for me.”

“Anything for ye, my lady.”

“When did yer laird return from his travels?” she asked gently.

The boy glanced from Beitris to the laird before returning his gaze back to the floor. “Nae more than ten days prior.”

Beitris blinked. She clutched at her throat while the boy quickly scurried away, nearly toppling over a shard of broken cup yet catching it before it fell.

“He was clearly eavesdropping,” she huffed before picking up her skirts and throwing the doors open to the great hall. She ignored the curious stares as she strode briskly through the room, looking around for another servant to ask. There were several maids moving in and out of the kitchens towards the left side of the room. She ignored her father’s scowl as she followed one girl, intent on getting the truth out of someone. If it came down to it, she would ask everyone residing within the castle.

Fraser chuckled, following closely behind her. “I believe yer fiery temper terrified him.”

Beitris rolled her eyes. “Why do ye insist on following me?” She glanced over her shoulder, finding the laird smiling widely as if they were playing a game and not discovering his lies.

“I wish to get to the bottom of this as well, my lady,” Fraser said. “My honor is on the line. If anything, this is just as important to me.”

Beitris shook her head while pushing the doors to the kitchen open, discovering several servant girls laughing amongst themselves while they arranged cheese and dried meat on a plate. They stopped, their mouths gaping open as Beitris approached them. Fraser stood at her side. She could feel the heat of his body nearly touching her, and she hated how his touch brought a flush to her cheeks.

“My lady,” the servant girls said in unison while dipping into deep curtsies.

“Excuse my intrusion,” said Beitris in a sweet tone, hoping not to scare them off. “But I have an urgent query that needs answered.”

“Of course, my lady,” said a servant girl with a thin, browning shawl covering her head. “Ye may ask us anything.”

Beitris straightened and clasped her hands in front of her. “I was wondering when yer laird returned from his journey. Ye see, I believe I may have met him once at the Dunbar’s celebration, which took place a little more than two weeks before.”

The servant girls shared a look before the other servant, a short and plump girl with a pretty pink tinge in her cheeks said, “That cannot be, my lady. The laird only returned ten days prior.”

Beitris’s mouth gaped open while her stomach twisted. She felt doubt seize hold of her, accompanied by embarrassment crawling up her spine and flushing her face. “Truly?” she breathed.

The other servant girl nodded. “‘Tis true, my lady. Although, he was supposed to return sooner.”

“However, the storm made the channel too dangerous to cross,” finished Fraser. His breath on her cheek made her insides twist, and her face became even hotter.

“How is this possible?” she murmured.

Beitris knew what she saw. She knew he was the one in the garden. They shared the same eyes, the same straight nose, the same sharp jaw. Everything about them was exactly the same. Well, not everything, she thought while slowly facing Fraser, who was giving her an apologetic smile. She quickly glanced back at the servant girls, too embarrassed to meet his gaze. Yet, the way the servant girls were staring at her made her feel as if she had gone completely mad. Maybe the man in the garden only looked like Fraser due to the darkness, or perhaps it was the wine that had fogged her mind.

Clearly, she had been confused.

“Thank ye,” she murmured before rushing out of the kitchens and into the great hall.

She paused in front of the doors, watching the Gordon and MacClery soldiers drinking and laughing amongst themselves. Her father was speaking with Lady MacClery. Somehow, Beitris felt worse than she did before, and all she wanted to do was throw herself in her bed, pull the blankets over her head, and pretend like none of this ever happened.

Beitris briskly strode towards the exit and into the dim corridor. The doors closing behind her brought some solace but not enough. She strode down the hall but stopped when she realized she had no idea where she was going. Perhaps she should return back to the feast and sit quietly next to her father. She had already made a fool of herself twice in one day. She surely did not intend to make it thrice.

Beitris felt a warm hand take her own, and her breath hitched when she met Fraser’s kind gaze. He held her hand tenderly, keeping distance between them while lifting her knuckles towards his lips for a tender kiss. “I would never force myself on a lass,” he whispered while stroking his thumb over her skin. “Not even my own wife. This I promise ye.”

“How can I trust ye?” she whispered, unable to speak any louder for fear of bursting into a fit of tears. She sniffed and pulled her hand from his, wiping the tears in her eyes. She didn’t think she could remain strong in front of this man any longer. Her nerves were destroyed. None of this made any sense. She knew the man she saw that night. She would never forget his face.

How could he ask her to trust him when she didn’t even know if she could trust herself?

“I truly apologize for what happened, my lady,” came Fraser’s calming voice. “If ye wish, I can station soldiers around yer chamber. Perhaps ye will feel a wee safer?”

Beitris felt numb as she nodded. “Aye,” she murmured.

She wanted to feel angry. She wanted to insist on asking more servants, demanding they tell her the truth of their laird’s whereabouts during the Dunbar’s celebration, but she was so exhausted. The entire day had been filled with too many changes, too many questions, and had left her feeling like a raggedy old shawl.

Beitris flinched as Fraser took a step towards her, making him stop instantly. “I need some time," she said, her voice stronger this time. “I still need to make sense of the thoughts in my head. I hope ye understand.”

She watched Fraser's slow nod. “Of course, my lady. I hope we may be able to start over?”

Beitris did not know. She forced herself to nod, needing peace for the moment. However, she couldn’t get the man in the garden out of her head. She felt pulled from one direction to the other, feeling as if she could no longer trust herself and those around her. Had she made a mistake? Had she been too inebriated to recall the man?

Or were Fraser’s servants instructed to lie to her?

"Would ye like me to escort ye back to the feast?" Fraser asked with an awkward smile. “I promise to keep my distance, of course.”

Fraser took a step back and raised his hands, making Beitris’s lips twitch upwards in response. His chivalrous manner, while awkward at times, was quite charming, and the dimples in his cheeks disarmed her walls ever so slightly.

She shook her head. "Nae, I can do it myself.” She strode towards the great hall until a thought came to her mind, making her turn around. Forcing a smile, she looked Fraser straight in the eye while saying, "I hope ye know I will not make it easy for ye to win my favor. I never wanted an arranged marriage. My feelings have not changed.”

She watched the tilt of Fraser's head, the mischievous smile taking hold of his lips and the kind glint in his gaze. “I suspected as much, Beitris.”

Beitris turned on her heel and strode through the doors, ignoring the flush in her cheeks and the warmth pooling within her at the way Fraser said her name, as if somehow in the brief moments they had spent with each other, he had come to adore her.

But that couldn’t be, she told herself. He hardly knew her.