Page 23 of Highlander’s Evil Side

“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.