Page 18 of Confessions of a Highland Assassin

Ava smirked at her friend over her cup of tea. “It’s only because ye are of marriageable age now that ye want tae bed a finer class of men,” she teased.

Skye turned a bright shade of red. “What dae ye ken about any of that, Miss Rose?” she turned her nose up in a mockingly hoity gesture. “Besides, any man that wants tae marry me, better keep ye on as me maid and have a good healer for Neil. Otherwise, we dinnae have a deal. I will have me cake and eat it tae.”

Ava sipped her tea thoughtfully and laughed once she was done teasing her friend. At least they had the makings of a plan. They could go and see Skye’s friend in the morning and then take things from there. It wasn’t the best of plans, but it was better than nothing.

“We will have tae use that money ye got as a good faith payment,” Skye interrupted her thoughts again. “Ye will need at least three new dresses and all the accessories that will make ye believable as a laird’s daughter. Yer fine features will help with that. Ye have always looked like ye belonged in a castle anyway.”

“Thank ye,” Ava blushed at the compliment. She knew that she was considered desirable. But it had never been of use to her in any way. Until now. Her livelihood relied on her skills with potions more than anything else.

Ava jumped and spilled her tea over her dress as the storm outside suddenly broke. The sound of a nearby tree crashing to the ground had her covering her ears and cowering just beneath the table. Skye rushed forward and placed her arms around Ava’s trembling core. “It’s fine, I’m right here, there’s naething tae worry about,” she stroked her hair doing all she could to soothe her. “It’s just a storm. Breathe with me. It will pass soon.”

All the chaos that storms brought into the world, leaving nothing but wreckage and brokenness once they had passed, was what was torturing Ava the most. Storms were much like everything else she’d come to hate in her life.

There had been a storm the night she found her parents dead, and on the night Skye was assaulted. Nothing good ever came after a storm in the highlands. The thunder was fierce, and the lightning was even fiercer wherever it struck the ground. She clung onto Skye’s embrace for dear life, hoping it would pass and leave them be. Feeling like a helpless child, Ava let herself be soothed and waited for whatever was coming when the rain subsided.

And what was coming was the laird’s murder.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Ava pulled her mug of watered-down ale closer as she sat in the corner of The Leaky Mug tavern. And it was far nicer than The Dark Horseman. Situated at the end of the village, the place attracted a less ominous array of patrons than that of the tavern in the middle of the woods. It was bright and cheerful with open windows and plenty of fresh air that blew in on the summer breeze. Ava had chosen a seat right by the door that had more than one table available around it. She needed to be seen by Skye as soon as she came in so that Ava would be able to overhear their conversation when they sat down.

Ava pulled her cloak down a little more to shade her face as she observed the people from where she sat. They had agreed the night before that Skye would intercept her friend on one of his routes before bringing him to the tavern for a drink. Ava would be waiting in her disguise to glean as much information from their conversations as she possibly could.

Not after too long, Skye stepped through the open door and quickly spotted Ava at the nearby table. She nodded discreetly, barely even moving her head as she made her way over, followed by the young man, and pulled out a chair at the table across from her. She sat facing her so that Ava would be closer to the mail carrier when he spoke.

He had sandy brown hair and olive-green eyes. His messy locks stuck out in tufts beneath his dark brown cap. His skin was dark from the dusty routes he traversed daily. Although he was handsome, Ava could easily have mistaken him for a much younger boy, rather than someone closer to her age. Everything about his appearance, from his worn breeches to his lightly stained shirt, was messy. The only neat thing about him was the leather satchel that hung from his shoulder by a single strap. The lad obviously took great pride in working for the laird.

“Now why would ye want tae sit all the way over here,” he asked Skye in a voice that hadn’t quite cracked since puberty. “It’s easier tae get a table closer tae the front, we will have tae walk far just tae get a dram now,” he complained.

Skye rolled her eyes and let her dress slip slightly off her shoulder before pulling it back up again. “Stop yer fussin’, Bram. I’ll fetch us two mugs of ale. Ye would swear ye didnae actually want tae see me again,” she pouted lightly with a hurt expression.

Ava watched her friend from the nearby table, amazed at how effortlessly she held the lanky man’s attention. He hung on her every word, eager to do her bidding.

“Nae, Skye, isnae like that. Ye ken very well that I’m overjoyed tae see ye. I hadnae heard from ye in so long. I thought ye’d moved on with yer life and forgotten all about me. It’s a blessing from above that I bumped intae ye now.”

“I’ve been studying tae be a healer, I cannae focus so much of me attention on young lads,” she winked at him. “Even handsome ones that fate makes me bump intae again,” Skye lied as the man turned a bright shade of red. Ava almost released the laughter bubbling in her throat. “I’m just so thirsty from all of the walking…”

Bram stood quickly and hurried off to fetch two mugs of ale, returning before too long. “Here ye are, this will quench yer thirst nicely.”

Skye took a sip from her goblet before leaning forward seductively, placing her elbow on the table, and staring at the messenger with her chin propped up on her hand. “Tell me, Bram, I ken that ye deliver letters, but what other exciting business has occurred in yer life since we last met?”

Bram puffed his chest out a few inches and lifted his chin. “Aye, a lot of exciting stuff. The laird now even entrusts me with delivering some of his personal messages,” he sniffed proudly. “Nae everyone gets that kind of trust with the laird, ye ken. Ye need tae be absolutely trustworthy and wise for this position.”

Skye pretended to be thoroughly impressed by this, opening her eyes even wider and nodding.

“There are plenty of people that want tae intercept the laird’s private messages,” he professed proudly. “Got tae keep yer wits about ye, cannae trust just anyone.”

Skye and Ava both perked up and listened more intently at the mention of the laird’s private messages.

Feigning interest, Skye sat back in her chair, sipping her watery ale. “Dinnae make as if ye are all that Bram. The laird may entrust ye with the letters, but he would never entrust ye with the ‘contents’ of those letters,” she said tactfully. She knew that Bram’s weakness was impressing others; lads hated it whenever anyone suggested they weren’t as important as they thought they were.

Ava rolled her eyes at the way Bram buckled to Skye’s whims, taking her bait like a hungry rabbit. She always thought that the way young men tried to prove themselves was a sort of illness that only affected those with far less to show than what was actually true.

“Then how is it that I ken exactly what is in one of the letters I’m delivering tae the laird at this very moment, miss clever locks?” he said triumphantly over the table and gulped his ale.

“Ye never?” Skye said in disbelief, bringing her hand up to her cheek. “Go on then.”

Rising to the challenge, Bram leaned in closer, wanting more than anything to impress her. “This stays between the two of us,” he motioned for her to lean in.