***
Early the next morning, Ava waited for the stable master to saddle her horse. “Do ye wish to take food for the beast, Miss Ava?” the man asked.
“Aye, thank ye.” The trip would normally take a day, but after her last trip, she wanted to be prepared. In a sack, she’d packed food, a separate set of clothes and a shawl. For protection, her short sword was strapped to her waist. Between her breasts, a dirk was hidden, and a second one was strapped to her right ankle. She’d taken plenty of coin from her brother’s room. More than enough to survive for several years, if she was frugal.
Ava rode through the forest, stopping at the old woman’s cottage. Quickly, she delivered a bundle that included food and some coins. She noticed wood had been chopped and placed under an overhang by her back door as she’d instructed.
Through the window, the woman spotted her and hurried outside. Her gray hair was askew as always. The cap she wore was unable to tame it. She gave Ava a toothy grin. “Ye always take such good care of me. I was hoping to see ye and thank ye for everything.”
Ava made a mental note to find someone to bring the old woman supplies in the winter.
“Ye took care of me when I was a wee lass. Now it is my turn. I came to retrieve my items,” Ava said, smiling.
She hurried behind the cottage and pulled a sack that was hidden under some broken pots. Upon returning to the door, Ava hugged the woman and mounted.
The trek to Fraser Keep would not take long. As a matter of fact, the dread of how she’d be received would probably make it seem short.
Ava pulled the hood of her cloak up and rode south.
***
Behind her, the sun fell below the horizon as she neared her destination. The closer Ava got to Fraser Keep, the harder her tears fell. It was almost impossible to see and hard to breathe as sobs racked her body. It wasn’t herself she cried for, but the possibility that Keithen would not be there.
Guards at the gates exchanged perplexed looks when she approached and dismounted. Like most men, they were unsure what to do when a woman cried for no apparent reason. Someone hurried up and took her horse. On leaden feet, she trudged to the front door where Lady Fraser appeared. Esme stood next to her.
Keithen’s mother took her arm and led her inside, while Esme hovered, seeming annoyed at her appearance. However, the woman must have taken pity on her, because she was silent.
“Where have ye been?” Lady Fraser asked. “Ye look a fright.”
“I was abducted when riding back from Clan Ross. Then I managed to get away, went back to Mackenzie Keep, to see if Keithen...” She stopped speaking, unsure what to say.
“Ye stayed there then?” Esme’s voice was hard.
“Aye, to nurse my brother until he died.” She didn’t meet the woman’s stare, but noticed Esme look away. “I stayed with his body, pretending he was alive until family from the north arrived.”
“Did ye even wonder about my brother?” Esme asked with a sneer.
Ava closed her eyes and swallowed. “Of course I did. No second passed that I did not wish to see him. Is he...?”
“He survived. Barely.” Lady Fraser’s words took a moment to sink in.
Her entire body went limp and she swayed.
“Come, sit down,” Lady Fraser murmured, once again taking her arm. “Bring some mead,” she ordered someone.
Moments later, a cup was pushed into her hand. Ava took a deep drink and placed it on the table. “I wish to see him.”
The women exchanged looks but, finally, Lady Fraser nodded. “Of course. He is in yer chamber.”
Hurrying up the steps, she only slowed upon reaching the door. Once there, she took a deep breath before entering.
The room was bright. Several lanterns were lit on multiple surfaces.
On the bed, her husband slept. Yellow and purple bruises covered most of his face and an angry red mark crossed his neck. She didn’t know what other injuries there were since blankets were pulled up to his chest. Nearing the bed, she had to resist the urge to push a lock of hair away from his brow. Even battered, he was achingly handsome.
“Keithen.” His name, just above a whisper, sounded strange on her lips.
His eyes fluttered and then opened. Upon seeing her, they widened. For a long moment, they looked into each other’s eyes, not speaking. Finally, Ava reached for his shoulder and pressed her hand upon it.
“How are ye feeling?”
He gave a soft nod, then he let out a long breath. “Better now that I see ye. What happened?”
Unsure of how much to divulge in that moment, Ava skirted the question. “I was with my brother. He died.”
“I cannot say I am sorry.”
Everything was her fault. Keithen’s injuries, Alastair’s death and other things she wasn’t prepared to think about.
“I know it was best for me not to come back. But I needed to know how ye fared.”
Unsure she was strong enough to hear his recriminations, she continued without stopping. “Once I am sure ye are healing properly, I will leave.” She lifted the blanket to find that his chest was bound tightly. Broken ribs.
His left leg was splinted from the knee down. A fracture that would undoubtedly leave him with a permanent limp. A cut on the right thigh had been stitched. Like his face, there were angry bruises all over.
Pulling up the blanket, she met his gaze. “Yer healer has done well.”
“I have ye to thank for my life.”
Ava shook her head. “How can ye say that? It was me that caused all of this to happen.”
“Ye care for yer family and had to see about them.”
“I have been so very foolish. Because of me, ye almost died.”
His gaze lifted to her. “And because of ye, I live.”
He paused for a moment. “Why did ye not return?”
The burden that she carried, the weight like that of a boulder upon her shoulders seemed to press down. “I was on my way back to Mackenzie Keep when I stopped to rest...”
Ava continued speaking, telling Keithen about her capture and then rescue by a woman named Hilda and the ultimate help by the man, Thomas. “I then went to the keep to find out what happened to ye and found that my brother was dying.”
“Ye have been through a great deal.” Keithen lifted a hand and she took it. “We will ensure that coin and what ye promised to the woman are sent,” Keithen reassured her.
Ava nodded. “I owe her a great debt.” She held her breath. “May I stay?”
Chapter Nineteen
Thankful that no one was in the room, Keithen slid from the bed and hobbled to the trunk at the foot of it. It took a bit of maneuvering, but he managed to pull out a tunic and then grabbed his tartan that hung on the door of the wardrobe and wrapped it around his waist. He pulled a corner up over his shoulders and belted it in place.
He waited a moment for the lightheadedness to go away and then hopped to the doorway. There was no time to remain in bed. If he was to recover faster, it was best to make himself move about and do more than remain in the bedchamber.
At the end of the corridor, he hesitated. The stairs would be hard to get down. One missed step and he would tumble.
“Do not move.” Broden appeared at the bottom of the steps and held both hands up. He hurried up the stairs and helped Keithen down. It was slow progress, especially when his ribcage began aching, but they made it to the first floor.
There were a few people milling about the space. Two stood before his father, arguing, while another group waited to be heard.
Keithen allowed Broden to help him to the sideboard where he lowered to a chair. His father looked to him, acknowledged Keithen with a nod and continued listening to the argument.
Once the situation between the men was resolved, the group who’d been waiting approached. They presented an idea for a multi-family farm that would share responsibilities of farming a parcel of land. They asked for land to farm and keep livestock on.
Hi
s father considered the request, conferring with two council members and, in the end, the land was granted to them.
Finally, Broden spoke. He reported on needs and requirements found while on patrol. The head archer, Ewan Ross, was next. He presented requests from the Ross guardsmen.
Keithen listened and gave input as needed.
Finally, a meal was served and as everyone ate, his father turned to him. “I am glad that ye are well enough to be here.”
“Do we have many injuries from the attack on Mackenzie Keep?”
Broden spoke up. “Five men injured, no dead.”
“One man injured, one dead,” Ewan reported for the archers.
“Alastair Mackenzie is dead,” Keithen told them, noting that everyone was surprised at the news. “Ava kept his death a secret until the Mackenzie from the north arrived. She said Atholl Mackenzie has been appointed as laird.”
The council began discussing their thoughts on the new laird, while Keithen scanned the room for his wife.
“Father, may I speak to ye in private?”
With his father’s help, they went to the study and closed the door. Keithen didn’t sit. He needed to spend time upright.
“If this is about Ava, whether she will remain or not, I leave it up to ye to make that choice.” His father paced. “She is yer wife and her ride to seek help is not only admirable, but it saved yer life. However, her recklessness is the reason for all of it. Ye almost dying. One archer dead.”
“I am not sure what to do,” Keithen admitted. “She is my wife and although her actions were wrong, I do understand why she did it.”
His father shook his head. “She disobeyed ye.”
Keithen considered his own rebellious actions and how hunting the men who’d hurt Catriona was why he was almost killed. How could he judge his own wife for something similar?
“I did hunt down those guards and kill them. Therefore, I am partly to blame for everything.”
His father didn’t seem surprised. “Ye disobeyed me then.” It was not a question, but a statement and Keithen nodded.
“If Ava remains here, with me, will it be against yer wishes?”
His father frowned. “Ye made vows to the woman, which makes her a Fraser. I believe she should remain. If she is scorned by the clanspeople, it is because she brought it upon herself. It will be a long time, if ever, that they accept her as one of our own.”
Needing time to think about what he’d say to Ava, Keithen went out the back door to where Ava had begun a small garden. The rain and chill in the air did not seem to affect the herbs that grew tall now.
Ava was hunched over the patch, putting down wood shavings around the plants. Sensing his approach, she looked up and then jumped to her feet. “Ye are up. I am not sure ye should be about.”
“I am fine.”
Rubbing her hands on the apron she wore, his wife looked around. “Ye should sit.”
“I would rather stand. It feels oddly good to do so.”
“Ye have been avoiding me the last two days. We should talk,” Keithen started. “There is much to discuss.”
Ava nodded. “Other than admitting my blame for everything, what else do we have to speak about?” She looked everywhere but at him. “I must accept my fate of not being liked. Other than that, I suppose ye wish to speak of where I will sleep from now on.”
“Where have ye been sleeping?”
She motioned up to a window. “Catriona has been kind enough to share her room with me. I have a cot in there.”
“Ye will return to our bedchamber,” Keithen said. “Ye are my wife, Ava. Nothing changes that.”
When her shoulders rounded, and with a look of defeat, Keithen knew she carried a heavy burden. “Ava, there is nothing we can do to change the past. We must move forward.”
Ava swallowed but didn’t respond.
“Ye didn’t answer my question before about what happened after ye fell behind. Why did Gallant return here?”
“I prefer not to speak of it.” Ava rounded him and raced into the house.
Last meal was subdued. Esme, Ruari and their guards had left earlier that day. There were guards seated at the tables since villagers and farmers who’d come to speak to his father had hurried home when storm clouds converged.
Beside him, Ava was quiet, but ate everything he’d placed on her plate.
“I am happy that ye join us for last meal,” his mother said, smiling in his direction. “Ye must accept help getting back upstairs.”
Keithen nodded. “I will.”
Several guards began having a loud discussion followed by laughter. His father called out for them to share what they spoke of. One was voted spokesman and he neared the high board.
“Laird, there was an occurrence while we rode back from the southern borders of the land,” he recounted. “We stopped for Finn to relieve himself. Ye see, a wee beast appeared out of nowhere, a rabbit perhaps. It scampered into the woods. Whatever the beastie did, it must have been terrible because Finn ran out screaming, his trews half-down.” The man began laughing so hard, he could barely recount the rest of the story. Apparently, the small creature had scared Finn so badly, the man had tripped over his own clothing and then crawled to his horse.
Everyone joined in the laughter, much to poor Finn’s expense. But the man took it with good nature and, after a while, he began telling his version.
Keithen noticed that although Ava listened, she didn’t laugh. His mother wiped tears of mirth from the corners of her eyes and even Catriona chuckled softly.
“Over time, things like this will be what the people remember. Ye will have to be patient.”
Ava turned to him and nodded, but there were doubts in her eyes.
At the end of the meal, she helped him maneuver the steps, which he hopped up. By the time they’d managed the last couple, both were out of breath.
Keithen had to take shallow breaths to keep from hurting, but it did not deter him from knowing he’d go back down the following day.
Once inside the bedchamber, Ava helped him remove the tartan, but he chose to keep the tunic on. Lifting his arms was not worth the pain in his opinion.
After undressing, she went to the bed wearing only her shift. Immediately, Keithen wished he didn’t have the confines of a leg brace and aching ribs. His member hardened and he blew out a breath. This wasn’t the time.
“I will help ye lie down. After, some whisky will help with the pain and allow ye to sleep more comfortably.”
Her hands around him as she guided him to the bed was the last thing Keithen needed. He blew out a breath after managing to sit on the bed and swinging his legs sideways.
The tunic shifted upward, exposing him from the waist down. His staff jutted up like a tree, hard and proud.
Ava looked to him, her face turning a bright shade of pink. “Do ye wish to sit or lay flat?”
“Sit,” he replied and purposefully made it hard for her to help slide him upward. Her face next to him as she pulled him up from under his arms was the closest they’d been in a long while.
“Ava,” Keithen whispered.
She turned, and he took her mouth.
At first, she was reluctant and then slowly relaxed and wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him back. It felt like all was right with the world in those moments as they savored each other as, finally, their tongues intermingled.
Ava was careful, lowering only enough to lay beside him, never allowing the kiss to break. She laid precariously on her side on the edge of the bed, but with his arm around her keeping her in place, she would not fall.
“I am so sorry,” she whispered against his lips and Keithen took her mouth again, not wishing to hear regrets. He needed her close, to feel himself come to life with want was a reminder that he’d survived. Although he’d never feared death, what happened to him had been a stark slap of reality he had not been prepared for.
His thoughts lifted and disappeared when Ava’s hand wrapped around his h
ardness. She stroked him from sack to tip, until he fought to breathe evenly.
“Mmmmm.” Keithen pushed his head back against the pillows, doing his best not to breathe too deeply. Ava pressed her lips against his jaw and then trailed her tongue down the side of his neck, all the while maintaining a steady stroking rhythm, her hand sliding up and down his hard cock.
“Awww,” Keithen moaned and covered her hand with his to guide her to move faster as his climax neared.
His release was strong and so hard the entire room went dark. He let out short hard breaths attempting to regain control.
Ava kissed him and slipped from the bed. “I will get yer whisky.”
Too languid to try to move, he kept his eyes closed, opening them only when a glass was pressed to his lips and the woodsy scent tickled his nose.
“Ye should sleep well now,” Ava said with a soft smile and pressed a kiss to his lips.
He drank the liquid, and immediately its effects lulled him into slumber. “Lay with me.”
It was moments later that the bed dipped as she slipped into the bed, ensuring to keep distance between them.
Twice, his wife had evaded telling him what happened to her. He had suspicions, especially when he tried to touch her in bed, and she would not allow more than kissing. Ava was hiding something and he needed to know what it was.
It was early one afternoon when his mother joined him in the courtyard. He stood away from where the guards and his father practiced at swordplay.
“I wish they would not be so violent,” his mother said with a shudder. “I came to find ye. The healer said yer stitches can be removed. Why did ye not remain for him to do so?”
“Ava can do it later,” Keithen replied. “I had to be at a council meeting.”
“How is she?” his mother asked. “She has not joined Catriona and me in the sitting room.”
Keithen shrugged. “I feel she is still uncomfortable after all that has happened.”
“Poor lass. Especially after her harrowing experience at the hands of ruffians.”
His chest constricted. “What do ye speak of?”
A Fearless Rebel (Clan Ross Book 5) Page 16
