Page 76 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
“What did she say? Tell me!” Margaret called, the mild impatience in her voice rather amusing.
Ava swallowed and took one more look at the letter and then at Margaret. She obviously could not read out most of the letter. There were still some tender wounds that needed care and reading this out loud would uproot the plants of redemption that were just beginning to take root. It may probably even cause Margaret to go without speaking again and that was the last thing she wanted. Not after she had made this much progress.
“Sarah wants to know if you now enjoy goat meat and cheese. she said you couldn't keep it down back in the orphanage.” Ava said, her voice coated in a nervous laughter. One she dangerously hoped the little girl did not pick up on.
“That is it?” Brodrick asked, a wave of surprise crossing his face. “That is all she said?”
Ava swallowed, then turned to Brodrick and handed him the letter. “Yes. That is all she said. See?”
As he took the letter from her, his fingers brushed hers and she felt a wave of despair run down her body. Despair of still having to feel this way and not being able to do anything about it—because there was nothing to be done.
Brodrick seemed to understand almost immediately as well as he read the letter. Then he sighed, looked back up at Margaret and gave her a distinct smile as well.
“Well, that is what she said indeed.” Brodrick responded looking back at Margaret. “They must really love ye at the orphanage do they nae?”
“Oh well. It is what we do. We love every girl we bring in just the same. Everyone without a home.” Ava responded.
Brodrick nodded. “This is really important to ye, is it nae?”
Ava narrowed her eyes, wondering where he was going with this. “Yes, My Laird. The orphanage does mean quite a lot to me.”
Brodrick nodded. “I can see that.”
For the rest of the afternoon, they did other activities like watching the birds and identifying ones that felt familiar and the ones that didn't. Then they had a picnic where the maids supplied them in the courtyard with all kinds of dishes and meat. Brodrick attempted to leave once or twice but Margaret wouldn't let him leave. She wanted him around. She wanted him to witness every single thing, much to Ava's despair. Every second she spent with Brodrick killed her inside even more and she had no way of stopping it. Every lingering gaze, every finger graze and even every time he spoke and trailed off his sentences, she was ghastly reminded of the very thing she would be leaving behind.
It was her fault in the first place, letting a charming Highlander sweep her off her feet at the worst possible moment.
She had let it drag on for way too long, despite knowing there was only one possible outcome—her returning to the orphanage and saying goodbye to Margaret and Brodrick forever. That would mean saying goodbye to Flora and to Castle MacDunn, which she had surprisingly grown to love.
So, of course, she had to prepare. To properly bid them farewell, she needed to stop being around Brodrick way too often. This meant avoiding him.
It was easy, at first. The cèilidh dragged on for a few more days, and he grew busy with his men and the other lairds. All she had to worry about was the time he was going to leave his study or the time he was going to enter the Great Hall.
For the first few days, avoiding him was easy. But now that the lairds were departing one by one, she’d found it way harder.
Margaret, who was now speaking freely without any care in the world, always wanted her at the dining hall. Ava couldn’t refuse the child. What reason could she give? That she could not afford to face her father? That it’ll hurt too much?
Hence she would attend dinner at the dining hall but manage to avoid looking at Brodrick for too long. Once in a while, he would turn to look at her, but her eyes would immediately dart to something else. Something that didn’t hurt her as much to look at. Like the sun rays that pierced the roof of the hall.
As the days flew by, Margaret continued to find her voice. Now, she could talk anyone’s ears off, especially Flora, who bore the brunt of most of the little girl’s high-pitched rants.
“I cannae believe I miss the days the girl could barely speak,” Flora muttered to Ava one night after they had both put Margaret to bed.
Ava laughed, watching Flora slowly pull the blankets to Margaret’s chin.
Even the girl’s appetite had increased, and soon her hands were no longer bony, and her face was more radiant and fuller with life and love.
The following morning, as Ava watched Margaret reach for the bowl of honey in the middle of the dining table, she realized with startling clarity that her work in the castle was done. She had successfully completed her mission—the one that had made her jump into a wagon with a bloodied Highlander she knew next to nothing about just a few weeks ago—and there was only one thing left to do.
Flora said something that made Margaret laugh. Brodrick, who was sitting at the head of the table as usual, gave a slight smirk. One that was just enough to make Ava know he was in a good mood—by his standards.
“I plan to leave tomorrow. For the orphanage.”
Silence fell over the table. Everyone held their breaths, as if they had known this was coming but were still shocked by it.
“What do ye mean?” Flora asked.
Ava shrugged. “My work here is done. Margie can finally speak—she’s with her family. I just do not see any other reason for me to stay here any longer. I am certain I could be of more use to the girls at the orphanage than here at the castle.”
