Page 8 of Trapped with the Vicious Highlander
“Ye have been the one in charge of her, have ye nae?”
Ava let a moment pass, deciding on the best way to respond to the accusation. She decided to let Margaret leave the room before she could entertain it.
“Why don’t you go and wait for me outside, child? Go play with the other girls,” she said, reaching for Margaret’s hands and squeezing them gently.
Margaret stared long and hard at Ava, her fear of the stranger still stark on her face. And then, almost like a miracle, she spoke, “Nae without ye.”
Ava froze. For the briefest of seconds, her eyes widened.
Did Margaret just speak?
Her eyes darted to Brodrick, who stood behind her, just as surprised.
She almost immediately regained her composure. The last thing she wanted was to make a big deal out of this. It might make Margaret retreat into her shell.
Brodrick didn’t share the same sentiment.
“Child. Can ye speak now?” he asked.
Margaret looked up at him and said nothing. It felt almost like the last minute did not happen, and if Brodrick hadn’t been with her, Ava would’ve thought she was hallucinating.
“Just go find Elizabeth. Can you do that, dear?”
Margaret nodded, and Ava watched her make her way out of the kitchen. Brodrick’s eyes never left her the entire time, and the instant she exited the kitchen, they snapped back to Ava.
“She has refused to speak for the past two weeks.”
“The past two weeks?—”
“That was when we found her.”
Brodrick felt a sting in his chest. Two weeks.
“Look, you may be Margaret’s father—I am no longer arguing with you about that. But as you can see, she doesn’t speak. This is the first time she has spoken since she walked into this building. I am certain you can understand why I am a bit reluctant to hand her over to you.”
Brodrick studied her for a minute, almost like he was taking her in for the first time. She looked graceful and elegant, and her presence and personality seemed to fill the room. The skirt of her gown fanned around her, and he could almost see her curves. Her flushed cheeks were full and plump, and her arms rested against her stomach.
“Ye say this is her first time speakin’?” he asked again.
The anger and frustration in his voice had vanished. In their place was resignation and a calm Ava wasn’t sure he was capable of having in the first place.
“Yes.”
Brodrick stepped away from her, sweeping his gaze around the kitchen. It did not look in any way below standard or terrible. And from what he had seen of the cottage so far, it did not exactly look like they were suffering or lacking anything.
“Do ye own this place?”
Ava nodded. “It was built with girls like Margaret in mind. Lost girls who had been thrown out or ousted with nowhere to go.”
He wanted to argue, to tell her that his daughter wasn’t thrown out. But he decided against it at the last minute.
“So what made her finally decide to speak to ye?”
Ava shrugged. “I sincerely wish I could tell you, but it is hard to know for sure. I would assume it is because she trusts me more.”
“More than her own faither,” Brodrick said.
It wasn’t a question. Rather, it was a forlorn statement.
