Page 14 of Highlander’s Evil Side

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?”