Page 19 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
As his patience started running thin, she took his hand. He could see the emotion flitting across her face as her eyes darted over the fields that seemed to stretch around them for miles and the trees that rested perfectly on the horizon.
He could tell from the way her eyes narrowed that she knew she was no longer in her village. For some reason, he could perfectly understand what she was thinking at that moment. It was what he would have thought as well. She was in a stranger’s territory, and it seemed that something about it did not sit well with her.
CHAPTER7
The wind whippingat Ava’s face felt different. It was slightly colder and a bit more intense than what she was used to back at the cottage. She could smell bread and meat from an afar kitchen. She could also see a few people making their way out of the lofty grey castle and hurrying towards them. Their eyes were filled with either shock, surprise, or utter glee.
Ava walked to the other side of the carriage and helped Margaret down.
“Your new home,” she said, a bright smile on her face as she led Margaret back to the other side of the carriage, where Brodrick waited.
“What do ye think?” Brodrick asked, staring intently at her as if he truly wanted to hear her opinion.
Ava stared at the castle. Its walls were grey, but not a drab grey. It was a fresh kind of grey. Something told her that some work had been done on it recently. Smoke rose from one of the chimneys in the back, but the front rose almost to high heaven. The cloudy mist blocked the very top from her view. For a minute, she wondered how many months—if not years—it had taken to build a castle this tall and this large.
Her eyes landed on the front gate, where people were walking towards them. Then, she took in the green fields, the rich and pristinely brown soil, and the gate to the stables.
She could see a lot from where she stood, and for a minute, she wondered if the castle was designed to be like that. Entangled ivy snaked around some of the walls.
“So?” Brodrick prompted, cutting into her thoughts.
Ava shook her head and turned to him. “I think it could’ve been bigger.”
Brodrick bit back a smile. “Right.”
The joke wasn’t lost on him, she was sure.
They remained standing by the carriage as people approached them. Ava could feel Margaret’s fingers curl into her skirt.
“It’s all right, child,” she whispered to her. “It’s all right.”
Now, if only she could feel the reassurance she was offering the girl as well. But the eyes staring back at her wouldn’t let her put her mind at ease. She wondered at that moment what it was they were thinking about.
A few of the people drew closer, the curiosity on their faces growing by the second, and Ava watched Brodrick’s hand slowly reach for the hilt of his sword.
“Sometimes,” he whispered, “ye need more than words to keep them at bay.”
A young woman, probably the same age as Elizabeth, walked forward, pushing her way through the crowd, her face bright with joy.
Brodrick released his grip on the hilt of his sword.
“I was told ye were back, but I thought it was Angus playin’ one of his stupid tricks on me,” she called, moving closer.
When her eyes landed on Ava, she seemed to falter for a minute. Her expression shifted, and Ava could see the slightest flicker of confusion in her eyes.
Ava felt her heart lurch for some reason. Was she his wife?
“Greetings, Sister,” Brodrick greeted just as the young woman pulled him into a hug.
Oh.
Ava exhaled slowly.
His sister.
The woman kissed his cheek and then released him before finally turning her gaze to Ava, taking her in.
“This is me sister, Flora Culloch,” Brodrick introduced. “Flora, this is Ava. She has been takin’ care of… me daughter for a while.”
