Highlander’s Evil Side by Shona Thompson

Chapter Nine

Fraser

Fraser swung his sword, the blade clashing against his opponent’s. He grit his teeth as he held the hilt with both hands. The weight of the blade was heavy, making his muscles flex and burn with exhaustion. They had been at it since the Gordons had left to see to the brigands. He didn’t want to believe he was hiding from his soon-to-be-wife, but being with his men, fighting them over and over again, was easier than trying to discover what lay beyond her fiery gaze.

“So, I hear yer bride is quite the lass!” shouted his adversary, Scott, while waggling his eyebrows.

Scott was a childhood friend, one who had often enjoyed getting Fraser into great amounts of trouble. Often, they would skip practice together to go gallivanting off into the woods or sneak rats into the beds of anyone who gave them reproach.

Scott was an orphan, discovered on a stormy night lying on the chapel’s stairs within the castle’s walls. No one knew of his mother. There was no note, only a screaming babe wrapped in a raggedy worn blanket. The clan’s general adopted the son into his family, given that his wife had been unable to provide him with a child. And she doted on Scott, spoiling him and making him the cocky and willful man he was to this day.

“What do ye mean heard?” laughed another soldier, Gavin, swinging his sword at Fraser’s left. Gavin was a big, brawny man with ginger hair and freckle-covered arms. “Ye know well enough what happened at their first meeting. Quite a fiery lass indeed.” Gavin swung again, swiping at the air as his opponent dodged.

“Aye, and bonnie!” shouted Gavin's opponent, Kenneth, a lanky man known mostly for his speed and cunning skill. “Makes ye wonder what she may be like behind closed doors.”

The men laughed, and Fraser seized his opportunity, lunging forward and swiping his sword. Scott blocked while stumbling backward, all laughter leaving his gaze as he attempted to focus on Fraser’s attack.

“Eh, laddie? Did that anger ye?” Scott taunted. “I didn’t peg ye the type to easily lose his control.”

“I’m not losing control,” Fraser gasped while swinging forward, making Scott trip backward once more. “I’m more focused than ever before.” He lunged forward, but Scott sidestepped him. Before he could strike, Fraser swiped once more, making Scott jump backward. However, he misstepped, tripping over an upturned stone and falling onto his bottom. Scott reached for his discarded sword, but Fraser pointed his blade at his friend’s throat, halting any attempts of escape.

“I believe that’s two to none,” Fraser said in an arrogant tone, earning a menacing scowl from Scott.

“I believe France has turned ye into a wee bit of a wanker.” His scowl dissipated into a smirk as he grabbed Fraser’s outstretched hand. “Either that or ye don’t enjoy us teasing ye about yer new wife-to-be.”

“I wonder what she’s like with a blade in her hand,” said Gavin.

Fraser chuckled. “I don’t think I’d like to find out.”

“She must be quite the adversary to behold,” said Scott while lowering himself into a fighting stance.

Fraser groaned. “Again?”

“Aye, again. I will defeat ye sooner or later.”

Fraser scoffed. “Highly unlikely, given yer exhausted state.”

Scott smirked. Sweat dripped down his face. Fraser could see his body was nearly depleted. His arms were shaking from the weight of his sword, yet Fraser knew Scott wouldn’t concede until he won at least one match.

“We’ll see about that,” Scott said mischievously. He nodded his head at Fraser’s sword. “Now come along, Fraser. Let’s see if ye can get three out of three.”

Fraser shook his head while lifting his blade. Without bothering to wait for Fraser to prepare himself, Scott lunged, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Fraser barely blocked in time, the sound of their swords clashing ever louder and echoing throughout the walls.

“So have ye a plan to woo yer feisty mistress?” Scott gasped.

“Why do ye speak of her?” Fraser said through clenched teeth. “Shouldn’t ye be more concerned for yer own well-being?” Fraser shoved Scott, watching his friend stumble backward. Scott quickly regained control, but before he could attack, Fraser swung his sword at Scott’s side. Scott barely blocked the attack, and the next, as Fraser closed the distance between them.

“How can I not?” Scott laughed. “She is the gossip of the clan.”

Fraser grunted as he swiped his sword towards Scott. His friend jumped backward. The blade swished against his leine yet didn’t graze against any skin. “She’s far from home. I would be a wee on edge if I had to give up my clan and live somewhere unknown.”

“Do ye think that’s her excuse?” Scott’s eyes glimmered mischievously.

Fraser tensed, angered Scott insisted on satiating his curiosity about his future lady, even more angered that his people were speaking so boldly about her. Beitris had her reasons for smacking him. She confused him for someone else. However, Fraser couldn’t tell Scott, nor anyone else for that matter. Not when he wanted to protect Beitris’s honor.

“I’ve already spoken with her,” Fraser said, his tone stern and his gaze dark. “Friend or nae, it’s none of yer concern.”

Scott swung, moving faster than before and catching Fraser by surprise. Fraser jumped backward, his back hitting the wall behind him. He frowned while glancing over his shoulder, finding nowhere for him to run to. His gaze narrowed on Scott, earning a wicked smile in response. Scott had planned this. Fraser had been so distracted by their conversation, he didn’t realize Scott had led him into a corner.

“The rumor is,” said Scott, taking a pause to twirl his sword dramatically. Fraser pursed his lips. Scott was acting cocky once again. If he wasn’t careful, Fraser would gain the upper ground. Fraser was already searching for a way out of his corner. Although, Scott’s next words took him by surprise.

“She was engaged to Hendry Dunbar for a time.”

Fraser’s eyes widened, and his sword lowered ever so slightly. “Engaged?” he breathed. He didn’t know what Hendry Dunbar looked like, only heard he lost an eye when his family was attacked long ago. His mind led him down a dark path, and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining Beitris smiling back at a man with an eyepatch, a look of adoration in her gaze. How Fraser wished she would look upon him the same, and he hated the way his insides knotted in jealousy.

Fraser caught movement out of the corner of his eye, and he moved quickly to the left in order to stop Scott’s strike. Scott roared in anger and frustration as Fraser pushed him back. Fraser whirled around, moving out of his corner, but Scott stopped him from proceeding any further.

“And what has that got to do with anything?” Fraser asked while moving to the right, unable to move any farther when Scott blocked his path. “That was long ago.”

Scott chuckled. “Apparently, she had been in love with the laird.”

Fraser’s heart stalled, and he felt all the fight leave him as he watched Scott edge closer. She loved another laird? His shock twisted into something ugly, and his hands tightened on his hilt.

It was unfair, a voice whispered in the back of his head. Unfair, he received such contempt from Beitris due to someone else’s actions, unfair he was now competing with a past lover. If she cared for Laird Dunbar all those years ago, did she still care for him now? Would she ever come to accept Fraser, or would their ill-fated union continue until their deaths parted them?

“However, he preferred a maid,” Scott continued with a shrug. “Ended up marrying her instead.”

Fraser’s frown deepened as he lowered into a fighting stance, slashing his sword in the air while he waited for Scott’s attack. He hated the thought of Beitris loving another, but it wasn’t for him to decide. These things happened by accident. No one could possibly control their feelings. They were as controllable as the Scottish highland weather, having its own mind of what it wanted.

Fraser expected Beitris to act much the same.

Scott lunged, and Fraser swiped his sword, knocking the blade from his friend’s hand. Fraser rolled towards it, seizing the discarded blade and pointing both swords at his friend. Scott looked around, his hands slowly rising, yet the young Laird could see his friend was looking for a way out, a way to win. Fraser quickly closed the distance between them, pointing one sword at his friend’s throat and the other at his gut.

“Do ye concede?” Fraser asked with a bitter smirk. He knew he should feel better about his win, yet he felt uneasy with envy. His mind was filled with Beitris smiling at Hendry, her hand lightly touching his arm. Knowing another man could capture Beitris’s heart, bring a smile to her lips, made his heart twinge and his insides revolt.

Scott’s shoulders slumped, and he sighed. His head bobbed up and down. “Aye, I concede.”

Fraser lowered his blades, handing one back to Scott.

He turned around at Kenneth and Gavin’s clapping. He nearly forgot they had been watching. “Wonderful, my laird,” said Kenneth while striding towards Fraser and Scott.

“Excellent, my laird,” said Gavin.

Fraser rolled his eyes at their facetious attitude and stalked towards them. “Now, other than my bonnie new bride, I’m sure there is news more precedent, such as the farms, or the taxes, perhaps—“

The men exchanged a look and their amusement dulled into a deep frown. “The brigands seem to be making trouble once more,” said Gavin, a dark grimace taking hold of his features. His hands fisted at his side.

Fraser sighed while sheathing his sword. “How so?”

“One farm was burnt to the ground. The family—” Kenneth stopped, shaking his head, and Fraser could only conclude the family was killed.

“Send soldiers to the villagers. More men should be guarding our walls,” ordered Fraser before stalking away from his men.

“Of course, my laird,” Scott called after him.

Fraser’s hands fisted. More brigands were not what he needed to hear at this moment. Laird Gordon had just left to see to his own clan. They had fewer soldiers than he expected, which meant his men would need to work harder to defend their lands. He also needed to think of Beitris’s safety. With her father gone, she probably felt ill-protected. Perhaps, if he showed her his goodwill it would ease the tension.

His feet took him inside the keep and up the stairs. He didn’t realize where exactly his body was taking him until his stride slowed as Beitris’s quarters came into view. Her door was slightly ajar, and he could hear her muttering, followed by some thumping. He wondered if she was still upset about her father leaving. It had been so abrupt, and Fraser couldn’t stop recalling the tears in Beitris’s eyes. She hadn’t been happy from the moment she arrived at Castle Dunnegan, which only made Fraser’s worry for his bride heighten.

Fraser looked around, searching for any maids in the vicinity, yet there were none. His feet inched him closer. As far as he could tell, Beitris was not crying. Her muttering grew louder until finally, he could make out the words.

“Where will I put ye all,” he heard Beitris say, her voice making his heart flutter. “I simply have too much. There isn’t space for ye all.”

He heard her sigh as he tiptoed towards her chamber, peaking through the slight crack in her door. His eyes widened on Beitris sitting with several open trunks around her filled with books upon books. Her arms crossed while she looked around herself, a deep frown marring her features.

Quickly, Fraser straightened. He knew this was wrong, knew peeking into her room would only make her more suspicious of him. Clearing his throat, he wrapped his knuckles lightly on her door, tensing when her head perked up. Her gaze caught his, and he took a step back, the back of his neck flushing as she picked up her skirts and slowly rose.

“Aye, what is it?” Beitris asked, her voice commanding, despite her curious eyes staring up at him.

“Apologies, I-I saw yer door was open.” Fraser chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck before nodding towards the clutter in her room. “I see yer an avid reader.”

Beitris’s gaze narrowed, making Fraser’s insides twist with worry. He shouldn’t have come here. Why did he come to her quarters in the first place?

“Is that all, my laird?” Beitris jutted out her chin, her hand already pushing the door closed.

“Nae,” Fraser rushed out. Beitris’s hand on the door stilled, and she stared expectantly up at him, waiting for his reply. Fraser’s mouth hung open as he searched for anything to say. He wanted to know if she was feeling better—if she needed any assistance. His gaze peeked over her shoulder, seeing the books in their trunks staring back at him.

“Well, my laird?” Beitris asked, a hint of a smile taking hold of her lips. “I haven’t all day.”

“I wanted to know if yer feeling any better.” Fraser moved his hands behind him, grabbing them and trying desperately to calm the fluttering of his insides. He didn’t quite understand why, but her presence unnerved him, took hold of any confidence he had, and crushed it within her palm. “I know yer father’s absence has unsettled ye. I hope I may be of some help?” He craned his head towards her, watched as her lips parted in response.

Beitris took a step back, and Fraser worried she would close the door on him. Instead, she turned around, beckoning him to follow with a simple wave of her hand. “There is something ye could do,” she said softly, keeping her back to him.

Fraser took a tentative step forward, looking around at the large windows, a desk near one, and a large canopy bed resting across from it. He sidestepped a large trunk, followed by another. Her items created a small maze within her quarters, and he realized with disappointment she hardly had any shelves to place her things.

“I was hoping ye have somewhere to keep these,” Beitris said, her voice calling his attention. She gestured towards her books and heaved a heavy sigh. “Perhaps, yer study? Or maybe ye have a room for such things?”

Fraser shook his head. “Unfortunately, not.”

Beitris’s shoulders slumped, looking defeated as she stared down at her books. Fraser had never seen so many in one place before. Even his instructor, a gifted scholar who spent most of his time surrounded by books, would be impressed. Fraser mentally kicked himself for questioning her literacy, and a part of him wondered where she acquired so many volumes. His gaze wandered over the dusty, worn spines, finding a book of poetry by John Barbour and romances by Thomas Learmont.

“I suppose the trunks will have to do then,” Beitris said, keeping her gaze fixated to the floor.

“Nae, ‘tis better if ye keep them out.” Fraser closed the distance between them, reaching for her but stopping himself from proceeding any further. His hand lowered as Beitris’s gaze lifted to meet his, her eyes widening as he said, “I wouldn’t want the dust to ruin them. Perhaps, I can send for a carpenter to build ye a shelf.”

Beitris blinked, her eyes growing in surprise and alarm. “What?” she breathed.

“Aye.” Fraser nodded, feeling more comfortable when Beitris didn’t move away from him. “It might take a day or two. ‘Tis yer room,” he added quickly. “If ye don’t want for it then—”

“Nae,” Beitris rushed out. She smiled brightly up at him, and the slight movement of her lips made his insides melt. He smiled back at her, unable to control his body as he watched the joy permeate from her very being. “It’s a wonderful idea. Thank ye for yer kindness.”

Fraser nodded, turning away and nearly tripping over a trunk and a stack of books on his way towards the door. His heart felt full as if at any moment it would burst with joy. He paused in the doorway, glancing over his shoulder. His breath caught as he met her gaze, feeling as if he would get lost in those sea-blue eyes of hers.

“Good day, Beitris,” he said, his tongue feeling numb as the words tumbled out.

Beitris dipped into a quick curtsy. “Good day, Fraser.”

His heart fluttered once more at the sound of his name leaving her lips. He forced himself to look away, forced himself to leave her to her own devices. With that one smile, hope was born within him. Perhaps, they could go on an outing. He would just need to discuss with Scott if they could spare some men. His smile widened. Knowing Beitris, he suspected she would need an entire entourage to ensure her safety.