Page 7 of A Fearless Rebel

“Enough!” her mother exclaimed and motioned for her to follow. “I had the maid bring out some of yer more colorful gowns. Ye will not wear any more of those dreadful rags ye insist on donning.”

“My husband has not been dead a year as yet,” Ava complained. In truth, she did not have any desire to wear anything colorful or have her hair brushed into complicated styles. The less attractive she looked, the longer she could remain unattached. Her father, for the most part, had let her be since Gillian’s death. It was only as of late, in the last couple months, that he’d decided to marry her off for whatever gain he planned.

There was no doubt in her mind that the marriage was planned in order for her father to further grow the amount of land he was laird over. He wanted the Fraser land, and the marriage was his first step toward getting it.

They entered her mother’s sitting room to find it transformed into a dressmaker’s shop. The array of colorful clothing on display made Ava flinch. Everywhere her eyes landed, there were gowns and shawls of every color imaginable. Never in her life had she seen so many ruffles. The display included garish flower hair adornments, gloves and slippers.

“Ye do realize we live in the Highlands and these clothes are absolutely useless to wear?” Ava motioned to the hair clips. “It seems fashion has changed quite a bit since I last wore color. The last I heard, no one wears feathers anymore.”

Her mother narrowed her eyes. “Where would ye hear such a thing?”

“When the Grants were here. Do ye not remember how Lady Grant and her daughters wore their hair in ribbon-wrapped plaits? They wore muted tones of green and amber and only a simple cross on a leather ribbon around their necks.”

“They are certainly not someone I would take any kind of fashion advice from!” Her mother shivered. “It was hard not to laugh at the ridiculous hairstyles.”

Ava had to admit the plaits weren’t at all flattering on any of them. However, the hair ornaments that looked as if they’d been pulled from a very disturbed bird wouldn’t be any better.

“Where did ye find this, Mother?”

Lady Mackenzie straightened. “I suppose ye don’t remember as ye insisted on staying next to yer husband’s deathbed. Yer aunt and uncle visited, and my sister brought them from her travels to India. Or was it England?” As her mother concentrated, Ava lifted one of the adornments.

“I do not believe a bird exists that has these feathers. They must be dyed.”

“Ye do not have to wear the feathers, but I would like to see ye in something different for dinner. We have visitors coming any day now.”

It would do little good to argue. Instead, Ava nodded, studied the display and decided on a gown that was a pale green. “This one.”

The family dinner table had eight chairs. Two remained empty. Across from Ava sat her brother and a member of her father’s council, an older man who had an annoying habit of talking with his mouth full. The seat next to Ava remained empty. Her parents sat on opposite ends. Her grandmother, who was visiting, sat at her father’s left. The only sounds for a long time were the sounds of food plates moving as they served themselves.

“I am told ye found Graham,” her father said, looking directly at Ava. “How is it that ye were out there?”

Her blood ran cold. If her father decided to lock her up until the marriage, she would not be able to sneak away and ride.

“I was practicing at archery and went in search of lost arrows,” Ava replied with a practiced, even voice. “I did not find him. One of the guards did. I found the horse.”

Her father looked to Alastair. “Was there nothing left in the area to show who did it?”

Alastair shook his head. “Whoever it was had to have been hurt. Graham’s knife had blood on it.”

“It could have been his own.”

The men continue discussing the dead man’s injuries, not noticing that Ava and her mother stopped eating at the graphic descriptions.

“He couldn’t have been dead that long if ye found him in one piece,” her father said as he chewed.

Alastair nodded. “True. No more than half a day I would say.”

“Could this conversation not be at the dinner table?” her mother finally spoke up. “It is most unpleasant.”

Although her father was a cruel man, he always seemed to soften when speaking to his wife. It could be that, in her own way, her mother was harder than he was. “Of course.”

“We must speak of the marriage. Have ye heard back from Laird Fraser?”

Her father looked to Ava. “A messenger just arrived today. I meant to discuss it with ye both. But now that I am learning of our daughter’s inability to follow simple rules, I am not sure how to proceed.”

“I do not wish to marry.” Ava didn’t look at anyone at the table. “I prefer to remain here and not be sent away.”

Her grandmother snorted, and everyone turned to find the old woman had fallen asleep. “Get my mother to her chamber,” her father said as he motioned a maid over. “Now.”