Page 54 of Highlander’s Evil Side

Chapter Twenty-Three

Fraser

Fraser couldn’t stop kissing her. His hands wouldn’t stop touching her. He cradled her to him as they lay in bed, gazing and stroking each other. She was his everything, and the thought terrified him. He thought she was gone only hours before, that she was injured and with another man. He still felt that fear, knowing he could have lost her no matter how much Fraser tried to shake that fear away.

“I could have lost ye today,” he whispered between kisses.

“But ye didn’t.” Beitris took his hand, kissing his knuckle. “I was fine.”

Fraser sighed. He pushed the hair away from her face and gazed into her eyes, trying to memorize this moment so he would never forget this night. They had lain together without the bonds of marriage. And though he knew they would marry soon, he still felt guilt twisting within him.

“Did the lad’s fever break?”

Beitris shook her head. She inhaled deeply, her hand in his tightening. “Hamish believes the lad has a strong will to live. We may not know until tomorrow.”

“It was foolish of ye to go,” Fraser whispered. “What if—”

“I had Ian with me,” Beitris rushed out. “And I thought we had settled this matter.” She smirked while staring up at him mischievously, sliding one finger down his chest and towards his navel. Fraser’s breath hitched, and he grabbed her finger, taking it back into his hand and giving her a scolding look that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Besides, Hamish insisted I return to ye,” Beitris whispered. “Perhaps it’s a good thing I left when I did, for now I truly know it is not a changeling haunting these castle walls.”

Fraser sat up straighter, his frown deepening. “How are ye so sure?”

“I was in the woods today,” said Beitris while pushing away from the bed and leaning against the headboard. “I was also concerned that all of it had been a ploy. Ye were right to worry.” Her gaze went to her lap, and she gathered the blankets around her, clutching them close to her breast. “There was not much to do but listen to Hamish and wait for attack, and so I thought of what I know of the fae. There are many books on the matter.”

“And what is it ye know, Beitris?”

Beitris pushed her hair away from her forehead, grimacing while shaking her head. “Changelings only replace babes. The fae do not take grown men, unless they have fallen in love. But fae love and human love are very different. Not to mention,” Fraser waited as Beitris paused as if choosing her words carefully, “fae do not wait to take what they want. They do it whenever possible. If yer double was a changeling or of the fae, he would have taken me in the wood this night, and Ian wouldn’t have been the wiser.”

Fraser lifted his body up, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. She shivered in his embrace and buried her face in the crook of his neck. “So this fraud of mine must be a man.”

Beitris nodded. “A man who has befriended the Black Stags. I fear I do not know which is a greater evil.” She lifted her gaze, her jaw clenching while her brow furrowed. “I suppose it is better to know he is human. At least there is a chance things will go back to normal.”

“But what man would be able to disguise himself as me?” Fraser asked. “Do the Black Stags have relations with witches? Do ye believe he may have purchased a potion to drink?”

Beitris shook her head. “It would be easier to poison ye. It must be a man with relation to ye. Did yer father have an angry brother, perhaps?”

“Nae, only sisters, and both are happily married.”

“Cousins, then? On yer mother’s side?”

Fraser shook his head slowly. A thought came to mind. A terrible, awful thought, but he pushed it away, knowing if he voiced it, he would never be able to take back the words. It wasn’t quite a thought but more of a question, and one only his mother could answer.

Fraser frowned. Perhaps not, he thought while thinking of Hamish and the other elder lairds who had become friendly with his father. He could ask one of them, but he would need to choose his words carefully, lest they become suspicious of him.

“Then it must be a man who simply looks like ye,” says Beitris with a huff, her shoulders tensing. “I thought it could be something more, but I’m at a loss.”

“Fret not,” said Fraser, kissing the crown of her head. “We will figure it out.”

“And the guards!” Beitris shouted while jerking towards him. “Those two scoundrels who promised to give ye my missive. One had a scar on his chin, and the other had a cut on his head. Ye must search for them.”

Fraser nodded. “Aye, I will.”

Beitris eased back into his arms. Thinking of the guards, he wondered who they could possibly be. He would need to have Gavin or Kenneth speak with the villagers, see if they could provide any more information. Thinking of the guards, his mind brought him to Ian. Fraser would have to thank the lad when he had the time. He wondered if he should have Scott speak to the lad. If this soldier had ensured Beitris’s safety the entire day, then training with Gavin and Kenneth would benefit him. They were always looking for the right soldiers to take under their wing.

Beitris smiled up at him, and all thoughts of soldiers and training left his mind as he smiled back at her. He was going to marry this woman—this strong, fiery woman. She was the perfect match for him. He didn’t think it possible to find someone so agreeable after living for so long away from the highlands.

Thinking of marriage made his smile slip, and his mother’s words surfaced within him: “Ye must choose a date to wed Beitris. Now. Dragging yer feet on the matter benefits nae one.”