Page 53 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
Her eyes flicked to the portrait attached to the wall right in front of them. The woman in it looked young and utterly breathtaking. Her dark curls hung gently around her face, and Ava could see flashes of Margaret in her bright smile. Ava’s eyes darted to the bottom of the portrait, where she could see the name of the woman clear as day.
Davina Culloch, Lady of Clan MacDunn.
Suddenly, everything Brodrick had been saying to Margaret about her mother clicked into place. Yes, that was her mother through and through.
“And this…” Brodrick’s voice jarred her out of the reverie she had been lost in. “This is ye, Margaret.”
Ava looked at the painting he was pointing at. In it was the most beautiful baby girl she had ever seen. She didn’t look older than two or three months old. Her dark hair, just like her mother’s, hung around her face, and she had the most beautiful hazel eyes. Her cheeks were pink with joy, and her toothless grin accentuated the gleam in her eyes.
Ava looked at the bottom of the portrait, and for the first time, she saw it. Right there, emboldened by the glistening candlelight and scrawled across the painting, was the girl’s real name.
Fiona Culloch.
Margaret seemed to notice it at the same time because she gestured to the name beneath the portrait and looked up at Brodrick.
“Well, that was yer initial name, ye see. It was the name ye were given before…” he trailed off.
Ava wondered if it was because he couldn’t bring himself to relive the tragedy one more time.
She watched Margaret reach for Brodrick’s hands and squeeze them ever so gently. Brodrick stared at her, puzzlement and excitement warring in his eyes. Margaret looked back at the portrait, touched her name, and whispered only one word.
“Margaret.”
Brodrick exchanged a look with Ava, his eyes widening in shock.
Ava shook her head. He mustn’t show his surprise. She mouthed, “Hide it,”so he didn’t terrify Margaret into complete silence again.
Brodrick looked back at his daughter and laughed. “I prefer Margaret, too.”
Ava smiled, almost heaving a sigh of relief. Now she felt guilty for interrupting what was supposed to be a nice father-and-daughter moment. Every moment from there on continued to make her feel like she was intruding one way or the other. She decided to do something about it.
“I shall go write the letter,” she suddenly announced.
She was surprised at how loud her voice was, but she didn’t have the time to dwell on it.
“So, Margaret, is there anything you would like me to tell Sarah and Elizabeth?”
Margaret looked up at Ava, a slight smile on her face. “Ye can tell them that I’m home.”
The words floated ever so gently out of her mouth.
Ava swallowed, doing all she possibly could to mask her excitement as well. She noticed that Brodrick also did better at hiding the surprise on his face.
Then, she nodded, a gentle smile playing on her lips.
“I shall do just that,” she whispered, before turning around.
Margaret was speaking more frequently than before. This was an interesting development. This meant her work here wouldn’t take as long as she had initially thought.
As she hurried towards her room, something about that thought did not sit well with her.
Later that night, after the usual chatter and buzz around the castle had completely settled, Ava rose from her bed, her chest heavy with boredom. She couldn’t sleep. She had tried tossing and turning in her bed, changing positions over and over, but nothing seemed to work.
Should she go to Irene and ask for a sleeping draught, perhaps?
She slipped into one of her night silk gowns and grabbed the candelabra by her bed. Irene might already be asleep, and the last thing she wanted was to disturb the woman.
She looked over at the letter she had finished writing earlier that day and read it over and over. She had decided she was going to send it the next morning, and part of her hoped that Sarah and Elizabeth were just as excited to hear from her as she had been excited to send the letter to them.
