Highlander’s Mysterious Lady (Scottish Medieval Highlander Romance)
Page 20
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Frances paused and took a deep breath. He was exhausted. He had been walking for what felt like hours, but in reality, had only been one. He had not expected robbing Beatrice to be so exhausting, but he was not a physical man, and was not accustomed to laborious physical movement. He had not expected her Scottish lover to arrive, nearly capturing both himself and his mate. The bloody Scot had almost ruined his plans. Thankfully enough, Frances had escaped. With what they stole from Beatrice, both he and the other thief were able to drink themselves stupid that evening.
But having petty cash was not enough for Frances. He wanted more. He needed more. He knew, now, that Beatrice was in love with a Scot, and she wouldn’t be open to the idea of marriage to him. He wasn’t thrilled with the idea of marrying her, but he had been willing to do it to secure his fortune again. But now that plan was foiled.
If he could not marry her, he would need to find another way to get the family money. And there was only one other way he knew how to get it: by killing her. If he could kill her, he would rightfully become heir to the fortune, and never worry about her meddling in his affairs or refusing to give him access to his rightful monies again. Given that she’d escaped to Scotland, no one would think him guilty at all. He would simply return to England and make it a point to be seen around the town.
After the robbery, Frances stayed near the Scottish castle for a week. He could have completed the killing sooner, but he needed to let Beatrice trust her surroundings so she could lower her defenses. He knew she felt most safe there; that was why she had returned with her lover, instead of going back to England. He waited for a week before finding out where the castle was and made the journey.
He didn’t have much of a plan; he only knew he needed to get her alone. At first, he thought he would sneak into the castle at night, wait for her to fall asleep, and smother her with a pillow. But given the guards near the castle and how often her friends and lover were doting on her, that had proven to be near impossible.
He had almost given up on the plan entirely, but then, that morning, he saw Beatrice, alone. A few moments later, the Scot showed up with a basket. As Frances watched them, he knew they were heading to the woods.
He followed them, careful to remain far enough away, not be seen. He had been waiting for this opportunity, and there would be no better time to follow through with his master plan. He weaved over the rolling hills, staying back, cowering from the sun. Frances had never been much for nature, did not enjoy these long rising and falling steps. But he did it. It was the only way he would have access to his money.
Unfortunately, Frances had trailed too far from the couple, and lost them once they were in the forest. He knew they would be out for a while, so he continued moving, hoping they were near to the center of the woods. Though it was a longer walk, he knew the further they were from the castle, the less likely he would be found out.
Up ahead, he saw a small patch of trees begin to clear out, and he heard it: the sound of the couple’s voices.
When Beatrice awoke, she found Brodie arranging some cheese, bread, and fruit on little platters he had brought in the picnic basket. He smiled as she roused from sleep.
“Yer up. Good. I was getting mightae hungry. Our little fun earlier caused my appetite tae awaken as well.”
Beatrice smiled and sat up slowly. “Mine too, it seems. Especially after that short nap. I feel I could eat a whole forest.” Brodie took out a small tart bought from the local for Beatrice and gave her a fork. She took a bite and closed her eyes as the sweetness of the custard washed over her.
“This is divine. There are many bakeries near my home, but none with treats as addictive as these.” She reached over and picked up a bread roll, parted it, and added cheese with a few slices of strawberry. She was always fond of sweet and savory together, and found that the flavors balanced each other.
“Well, I hope ye’ll show me some of yer favorite places when I visit ye,” Brodie added.
Beatrice looked down at the bread roll and felt her face fall. She wanted to show Brodie all of what she loved about England, but at the same time, she did not look forward to their parting, even if only for a short time.
“I’m going to miss you terribly, Brodie, but you know I need to get back. I have matters to tend to. Responsibilities to uphold. But I believe we can make this work.” Beatrice smiled as Brodie reached over and took her hand in his.
“Aye, I shall miss ye greatly as well, but we shall find a way tae divide our time. I will dae what ye need so long as I still get tae have ye some days.” Brodie tried smiling, but it was weak and felt a bit forced. The truth was, he was not sure how well their arrangement would work. He worried that she would eventually tire of him, quit making return trips to Scotland, and Brodie would look a fool, begging to see her in England. He did not want to end up heartbroken. But if it was what Beatrice needed, he was willing to try.
“I appreciate you saying that, Brodie, I really do.” She kissed him on the cheek before taking a bite of her roll. The breeze rustled through the trees, creating a soft whistling sound. It felt as if the forest was a world all their own, a world where nothing else mattered. They ate in silence for a few moments, enjoying the breeze and the tastes on their tongues.
Beatrice stopped mid-bite and turned to look behind her. She could have sworn she heard a soft whimper or a rumble. Brodie waved her worried expression on.
“Tis nothin’ but a bird, I think, dinnae worry.” He moved closer to her and fed her a slice of strawberry. She parted her lips and accepted the treat. She savored the flavor until she heard the noise again. This time it seemed Brodie heard it as well.
The two of them jumped up quickly. The noise did not sound anything like a bird that time around. Beatrice spun in a circle on the quilt, trying to find the source of the noise. Brodie stepped in front of her, wanting to protect her but not knowing the source of danger.
“Hello, Beatrice.” A figure stepped out of the patch of trees in front of them. Beatrice felt her whole body tense with anger and fear as Brodie pushed her behind him. She took in a deep breath in shock.
“Frances? What are you doing here?”
“Frances?” Brodie turned to look at Beatrice, shocked. He had not thought her cousin capable of following her all the way here. What did he want? Brodie realized that Beatrice had known all along. He had doubted her, and felt his stomach drop. How could he have been so obtuse?
“I’m here to take you to the estate, Beatrice. You must return. We need you there, not here, roaming the forest with some Scot!” Frances’ voice rose. He had a plan. “I can protect you, Beatrice, like James did.” He tried to ease the tension from his voice, wanted to approach her like he would any frightened creature.
“You liar! You think I would believe you? After you attacked me? Stole from me?” Beatrice spat the words at him. “I know it was you, Frances. I recognized your voice.”
The realization of what Beatrice was saying showed on his face. He thought he had gotten away with the robbery, thought she had no idea he was behind it.
Frances looked between Brodie and Beatrice. If they knew about the robbery, there was no way his plan was going to work. But he knew something else. If Beatrice were found dead, he would be the rightful heir. The fortune would be returned to him. He only had to kill her and her Scot for this to happen.
“Look, Beatrice, we can do this one of two ways. You can hand over the estate and the fortune to me, or I can kill you and your little friend.” Frances felt empowered once more. Out here, in the forest, there would be no army to protect them, no surprise attack; just him against the two of them. From the looks of it, neither had a gun.
Brodie withdrew the sword he carried in a sheath and lifted his arms high above his head. “Get outta here, lad. Ye dinnae wantae make me angry.”
“Beatrice, ye need tae get outtae here, alright, go on, run, I’ll catch up with ye!” Brodie whispered to Beatrice as Frances began walking towards
them.
“I am not leaving you, Brodie! Don’t you dare even consider it.” Beatrice raised her voice and stood still for a moment. She needed to come up with a plan.
“Don’t you even consider running from me, Beatrice. I’ll leave the both of you dead here without a single drop of guilt on my soul.” Frances reached behind him and pulled out a gun, the one he had held toward her only a week ago.
Unfortunately, she did not have a knife or a gun with which to defend herself and Brodie. She felt her heart race, so much danger in such a short amount of time, would she ever get a break from anxiety? However, she was no longer weakened as she had been. She was going to return to her strong and powerful self. She was the woman James had loved; she was years older, but that only made her wiser and smarter. A powerful woman would know exactly what to do in this situation. She stood still and took a few deep breaths, quieting her heart. Beatrice looked around her for anything she could use as a weapon. On the ground, holding down one of the quilts, Beatrice spotted the large stone. She couldn’t exactly grab it—Frances would shoot her instantly. Perhaps there was only one thing for her to do. She needed to keep herself and Brodie safe, and she would do whatever it took.
“All right, all right, Frances. I will go with you. Just, don’t hurt Brodie, please, I beg you.”
A smug smile spread across Frances's lips. He stepped towards them, and Brodie stuck his blade out straight towards him.
“Hey, now, I think Beatrice can decide for herself what she wants,” Frances said, holding his hands up as if to plead innocence.
“Brodie, let me go. All is well.” Beatrice tried to steady her voice, tried to convince Brodie this was for the best, that he needed to trust her. Brodie looked between her and Frances, weighing the options, seeing the gun in his hand. Finally, he lowered his blade.
Beatrice started walking towards Frances, hanging her head, defeated. He tucked the gun back behind him in his pants. Beatrice was a foot away from him when she looked to her own feet.
“I need my shoes. We will have a long walk back.” Frances nodded, allowing her to return to the quilt to grab her shoes. It was a risky move, but Beatrice was ready. She picked up her shoes with her left hand, bending her body to hide her right hand. In a split second, she picked up the stone that weighed down the quilt.
Turning the stone in her hand, and with all the force she could muster, she let out a loud and high-pitched scream, throwing the rock as hard as she could at Frances’ head. He reached for his gun, but wasn’t quick enough. The stone hit him square on the nose, and he fell back instantly. Frances collapsed, and Beatrice hyperventilated as she stumbled towards his body. His face bled profusely. He was clearly unconscious.
“Lassie, what the bloody hell was that? My god! Yer, the bravest woman I ken!” He picked her up and swung her in a circle before pressing his scruffy mouth against hers. When he finally set her down, she could feel the adrenaline rushing through her body, her blood pulsing with energy. She had never done something so reckless, so bold, so powerful in her life, and it changed her in a small but perceptible way.
“Lassie, are ye alright?” Brodie asked suddenly, stepping towards Beatrice.
As he asked her the question, Beatrice felt the pulse strong in her temples and cheeks. She suddenly did not have the same rush of energy, and felt cold and hot all at once. Black spots began to speckle her vision. She stumbled back, reaching for her head.
“Beatrice, answer me.” Brodie looked worried as he reached out an arm. Suddenly, the black took over Beatrice’s vision. All sight lost to the darkness as she collapsed.
Brodie, thankfully, was close enough and already reaching for her, and managed to catch her before she hit the ground. He lifted her up over his shoulder and carried her back to the quilt. He wondered if perhaps the surprise of seeing Frances had caused a case of shock. He knew it was a long walk back to the castle, but he needed to take her back. She needed to be seen by a doctor. Given all that had happened to her in the last month, he worried a fainting spell was only the start of a more severe illness.
He laid Beatrice down on the quilt and tried to gently shake her to wake her. She did not stir. From his canteen, he poured a small amount of water, but Beatrice did not wake. He knew what he had to do. Brodie picked up Beatrice and began to make the long journey back to the castle. He knew the doctor there would tend to her right away. He could only hope this was not too serious.
He looked over to Frances. He knew he could not drag both of them. Brodie took the belt from his pants and wrapped it around Frances's arms, tying them behind his back. He assumed the injury would cause him to lay there for a while, but he did not want to risk him escaping again, and Brodie needed to get Beatrice back to the castle immediately.
He picked up her body and began the walk back. He could not believe he had been such a fool, not to believe her. He would never make that mistake again. As the hills spread out in front of him, Brodie thought about all the ways Beatrice had suffered. He knew, then, that he did not want her to go through life unprotected. He knew she was more than capable of caring for herself. She showed that in her determination to fight off Frances only moments prior, but he knew that she deserved a life without the need to worry about being alone or being unguarded. Brodie wanted to ensure that everything that happened to her in those last weeks would never happen again, and he only knew one way to make it certain!
Chapter Twenty-Four
Brodie made it back to the castle quicker than ever. He could only guess that his need to protect Beatrice and get her the care that she needed moved his legs faster. When he entered the castle, he walked down the long halls and passed one of the common rooms to get to the doctor’s care. Helena was at her embroidery when she saw Brodie walk by carrying Beatrice, and she jumped up as best as she could and walked quickly towards him.
“What’s happened to Beatrice?”sShe called out as Brodie continued moving quickly away from her.
“I’m takin her tae the doctor right now. She fainted in the forest after Frances attacked us,” Brodie shouted over his shoulder.
Helena gasped. “Frances, my goodness, of all things. She told me that he was after her, but I didn’t have a chance to ask her more. It seems poor Beatrice has no luck these days. I’ll have the kitchen make her some tea for when she comes round,” and she turned and walked off towards the direction of the kitchen.
Brodie walked down the halls towards the doctor’s study. It was as if he was moving on instinct. He hoped the doctor had not gone into the local village for supplies, or to check on any other patients. He was worried something was gravely wrong with Beatrice. The journey back from the forest, her lack of response, only made him feel more nervous and concerned for his love.
Brodie knew at that moment that his feelings for Beatrice were the strongest he had felt for any lassie. More than that, he knew in the depth of his soul, that there would never be another woman who made him feel as Beatrice did. He loved her with all of his being. He needed her to be well again.
Rounding the corner, he prayed silently the doctor would be in and let out a loud sigh when he saw the man making notes in his journal.
“Laird,” the doctor stopped his writing and glanced at Beatrice. “Is this the duchess? What has happen’d tae her?” the doctor stood and moved towards them.
“I was hopin’ ye might be able tae answer that. We were takin’ a walk in the forest, since she seemed tae be feelin’ better, but we had a situation, her cousin attacked us, and she fainted shortly after she fought him off. Speakin’ of which, I need tae get some of our men out there. They need tae get him intae a cell and call the English watchmen fer him.”
“Aye, well, let us get her up tae her room quickly. I’ll be right up tae have a look at her and see how she’s doin’. She might have just had a tad bit tae much adventure fer the day.”
Brodie nodded and turned. Behind him, the doctor packed up the equipment needed to check on the lassie. He closed his bag and c
arried it along with his notebook.
Once in the bedroom, Brodie gently lifted her from his shoulder and lay her on the bed. He was careful, removing her shoes, and covering her with the quilt. Resting his hand against her forehead for a moment, he checked to see if she had a fever or felt cold. She was a little warm, but nothing extreme. Letting out a sigh while he waited for the doctor to arrive, loosening her hair, to make her a little more comfortable. Despite being worried about the girl, Brodie had to admit that Beatrice looked rather peaceful as she lay there. Perhaps it was nothing more than shock, but still, he feared the worst. Why hadn’t she woken? He prayed silently to any god who might be listening.
While Brodie was silently worrying and praying, Helena walked into the room.
“Oh, poor Beatrice, I cannot believe so much misfortune could happen to one person.”
“Tis my fault. I shouldnae have taken her off tae the forest. I thought she was doin well, I thought she was ready tae take a nice walk. I wanted her tae see it, tae feel how beautiful Scotland can be outside these castle walls.” Brodie shook his head and sat in the rocking chair near Beatrice’s bed and placed his face in his hands.