Page 46 of Highlander’s Evil Side

“I will do everything within my power to right things.”

Helga smiled. Her other hand brushed his dark locks away from his face, and he leaned into her touch, happy to see the mother he knew once more. “I know ye will,” she said softly. “Yer so much like yer father.”

Fraser wished his father was here to aid him. He would have known what needed to be done. Fraser felt his father’s loss more now than he did before. “I know father’s death was a surprise.” Helga flinched, her gaze dropping to the stone at their feet. “I know how hard it has been for ye to keep strong. Let me shoulder some of yer pain. Ye don’t have to carry it on yer own.”

Tears prickled Fraser’s eyes as he watched his mother step away from him. Her hand went limp, and she pulled away, clutching her hand to her breast while she shook her head. “Aye, I must.”

“Mother,” said Fraser, trying to close the distance between them. He stopped when she lifted her hands; her eyes clamped closed while her jaw clenched. She was struggling with something. Fraser needed her to tell him what it was. Or who it was, but he didn’t know how to ask her without revealing his knowledge of his evil double.

With a sharp intake of breath, Helga’s eyes opened, and her hands dropped to her sides. She straightened herself, but her gaze did not reach his. “Ye must choose a date to wed Beitris. Now,” she added sternly, her hands fisting. “Dragging yer feet on the matter benefits nae one.”

Fraser’s mouth opened, wanting to ask why he needed to worry about such things when a whole village was burnt to the ground three days before. However, his mother picked up her skirts, turned on her heel, and rushed towards the opposite tower as fast as her feet would take her.

His mouth closed, and he watched his mother leave. It didn’t make sense to spend his time planning a wedding with a man burning villages and attacking Beitris on the loose. He needed to protect his people, to protect his bride.

Fraser’s brow furrowed in confusion. He turned his gaze out to the fields, watching women and children move between the tents. His mother was possibly more involved than he originally thought. It was the only explanation for how cold she was treating him and the insistence on his marriage. Perhaps his double was planning his next attack on his wedding day.

“My laird,” he heard Kenneth call from the staircase. Fraser turned to him, finding him entering through the small entrance of the tower. “Is everything alright?”

Fraser didn’t know how to answer that question. He felt thin, worn like a raggedy old shawl. Yet, nothing was wrong; nothing was happening to him currently. At least, not now. He needed to see Beitris, to know she was still safe. It was foolish to have Gavin and Kenneth following him around everywhere he went. Gavin could at least protect Beitris.

Without a word, he swiftly passed Kenneth and Gavin, stalking down the staircase. He didn’t know where he was going until finally he was standing outside Beitris’s chamber and knocking on her door.

“Beitris?” he called gently, grimacing at the worry lacing his tone.

There was no reply, which only made his insides grow cold and his skin prickle with fear. “Beitris?” he called again while knocking harder.

“She may be with the villagers, my laird,” came Gavin’s reassuring voice.

Fraser glanced in his direction, finding Gavin gazing at him calmly while Kenneth shuffled from side to side, equally worried.

“Why would she be with the villagers?” Fraser asked, his mouth feeling dry while his insides chilled.

Gavin grimaced, and Fraser knew he was not going to like his next words. “I know she has been tending to the children in the camps.”

“Why?” Fraser asked, his voice a near shout.

Fraser stalked past his guards.

“She gives them food,” Gavin called after him, “and reads to them.”

Fraser didn’t say anything. How could Gavin know and not say anything? How could he be guarding Fraser and leaving Beitris to her own devices? She was just as much of a target as him. Perhaps more, given the two times the double had kissed her forcefully.

Fraser’s movements were jerky. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides. She shouldn’t be spending so much time outside the castle walls, Fraser thought while running down the stairs. He did not want to tell her what she could and couldn’t do, but already his double had attacked her two times. That man could be lurking anywhere, Fraser thought while stepping through the courtyard and out the gates. He could be waiting for her in the wood, waiting for a chance of her being alone so he could take her.

“Beitris!” Fraser called while approaching the camp.

He passed by several women hanging their soaked clothes up from strings attached to several tents. They turned to him with confused looks. He searched their faces, finding young and old, but none of them were his Beitris.

“Beitris!” he called again, his voice growing frantic.

Children ran past him, giggling while smacking sticks against each other. Fraser stopped, nearly tripping over them while he searched, finding several eyes watching them, but none belonging to Beitris.

“Excuse me, miss,” said Kenneth while approaching a woman cradling her child. “Do ye know of Beitris? Laird MacClery’s bride?”

The woman blinked up at him. “Aye, she was here not so long ago with the healer. A woman came asking for aid.”

“A woman?” Fraser shouted, nearly lunging towards her. “Did she take the guards? Is that why yer alone?”