“What did ye say?” he asked his father, noting everyone seemed to be awaiting his reaction.
“Yer wife is being brought to live here.” His father locked gazes with him. “They say she is not a Mackenzie but a Fraser.”
***
Two days later, a carriage flanked by four horsemen, which was followed by a contingent of twenty warriors, entered through the gates.
Along with his parents, Keithen stood at the entrance to the home waiting for the visitors to appear.
This had to be so very hard for Ava to be sent back to the husband who’d rejected her. Of course, there was a reason for it, in which Ava had no choice in the matter.
First, two horsemen dismounted. One walked toward them and handed his father a missive. “My laird sends his regards and thanks ye for yer hospitality.”
His father nodded in response, his gaze moving to the carriage. The door opened and an older man emerged. Dressed neutrally, he did not don the Mackenzie colors. With silvered sideburns and hair that was pulled back into a queue, he seemed more English than Scottish.
The man held out an arm and from the carriage emerged an older woman, obviously his wife. She was dressed much like Keithen’s mother in a gown of muted tones.
Finally, Ava appeared. With her dark hair pulled back and swept up, she looked refined and composed. Her dark blue skirts flowed out behind her as she stepped down from the carriage. Across her shoulders she wore a shawl in a dark shade of green. A subtle nod to the Mackenzie colors.
The older couple and Ava walked toward them and Keithen could not keep from admiring his proud wife. Her gaze remained forward, chin up and shoulders back. There was a serenity about her, as if she were some sort of fabled creature, untouchable and beautiful.
“Greet yer wife,” his mother prodded, bringing him out of being struck silent by her appearance.
Keithen stepped forward and held out his arm. “Wife.”
For a long moment, he did not think she’d accept it. But after a moment’s hesitation, she placed her hand on the crook of his arm. “Husband.” Her voice was husky and velvety. He remembered the tone of it long after seeing her the for what he thought was the last time.
Unlike the last time, this time she would remain with him as he vowed to never humiliate her by rejecting her again. If he did, as she’d been pronounced no longer a “Mackenzie”, she would have nowhere to go.
They turned and waited for her uncle to introduce himself and his wife. Once that was done, the group went inside.
The visitors were escorted to a rarely used dining room that was reserved for family meals. Since they usually ate in the great room, this room was saved mainly for special visitors.
Brandy was poured for everyone and trays of bread, cheese and a tart of poached pears were set out. Ava’s aunt and uncle, Liam and Theresa Mackenzie, were pleasant. Although Liam maintained a cool demeaner, his intelligent gaze seemed to take in every nuance.
The woman, Theresa, praised the room’s décor and began to ask his mother questions about the garden she’d managed to sneak a peek of somehow.
The entire time, Ava remained quiet. Other than taking a sip of the brandy that was placed in front of her, she did not eat.
Keithen was at a loss as to what to say to her. It wasn’t as if any kind of pleasant conversation would set either of them at ease.
“Ava, do ye like pears?” his mother asked. “They are poached with honey before being placed in the tart.”
His wife’s face paled and she swallowed visibly. It became apparent that the poor woman’s emotions were barely held in check. “I do.”
When his mother looked to him and then to the tartlet, he cut a slice, slid it on a plate and placed it in front of her.
“Are ye to be living at the keep now that yer brother has gone?” his father asked the visiting man.
“No, we live in the south still on Mackenzie lands. We have a large estate there. I prefer the southern area. It is much warmer. The weather here is much too frigid.”
Keithen met his father’s gaze. Did these people travel for two days to speak of the weather?
The man’s lips curved. “If I may be so bold as to explain our presence. We come to escort Ava as we will continue on our travel home. We’ve spent the last month visiting with my brother’s family after his passing.”
“I was led to believe there was another reason for yer visit,” his father said. It was not courteous to do so, but being that the two clans were not on friendly terms, there was no need to mince words.
Liam Mackenzie nodded. “My nephew wishes to strengthen the bonds of yer alliance. That, I believe, is why we are here to deposit Ava.”
At the words, Ava looked to her uncle, but did not speak.
“A true alliance is not made through force,” Keithen said, “but by mutual agreement. Although we are bound to yer nephew by our marriage, know that we will never fight alongside him, nor will we defend him if called upon.”
The man did not act surprised at the words. “I understand my late brother was not well liked. However, the alliance is not broken. Therefore, ye will be held to certain expectations.”
Laird Fraser tapped the table with his fingertips. “We should continue this discussion after last meal. I am sure the women are weary from travel.”
Lady Fraser rose. “I will show ye to the chambers I had prepared. I know ye will be comfortable there.” She gave Keithen a pointed look. “Keithen, ensure Ava is settled in yer chamber.”
As her parents led the visitors out, Keithen also stood and took Ava’s elbow. “If I know my mother, yer baggage is already deposited in our chamber.”
Her brow crinkled as if not liking what was said, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she turned to look to the doorway, and it was then he noticed a dark bruise on her left temple that ran to her cheek.
“What happened to yer face?”
Her hand flew to the precise spot and she covered it. “Nothing that should concern ye.”
Keithen stepped in front of her. “Who struck ye?”
Once again, it was apparent that she was struggling to maintain a calm demeanor. Her eyes filled with tears and she lowered her head. “I caused it because I spoke out of turn. Will ye please escort me to the bedchamber? I require some rest.”
He knew better. The woman had ridden nonstop for an entire day just to purchase fruit tarts. However, she was humiliated twice now. First, rejected by him and sent back to live with her family and now, sent back.
The tightness in his chest became stronger when he noticed a slight tremble of her chin.
“Aye, of course. Ye can spend the rest of the day relaxing. If ye wish to have a chambermaid assist with unpacking, I can have one attend to it.” Keithen spoke of nothing more than unpacking, having fresh water bought and such the entire way to their bedchamber.
Two things struck him at once, and it was becoming impossible to ignore either. First, that he would do anything in his power to keep Ava from crying. The woman who walked beside him was one of the strongest people he’d ever met and to see her so broken struck him to the core. Second, his wife was there and would not only be living in the same house, but they’d be sharing a bed from that night forward.
To send her away to sleep elsewhere at that point would be another horrible strike and he would not do it.
When they entered the chamber, true to form, her bags were there and several of her gowns were already unpacked and hung in the wardrobe. Keithen was struck by the sight of the dresses hanging next to his tunics.
Ava looked about the room in which she’d only spent one night. Their wedding night in which Keithen had claimed her as his bride.
Not seeming interested in her bags, she went to the window and peered out. He knew what she saw. To the left were rolling hills, a long winding road and, in the distance, the edges of the village. Straight ahead was an open field that was used for training with the warhorses and large gatherings. Then past the open area wa
s a thick forest that stretched as far as the eye could see. Just behind the keep was another forest and a shallow creek that was used for drinking water and the watering of the gardens.
There were several farms as well, but most were not visible unless one stood on the rooftop.
Keithen studied Ava’s profile for a long moment. “Despite the circumstances, I am glad ye are here.”
It was apparent she didn’t believe him by her flat gaze. “I am not sure what to say.”
“My mother will wish to spend time with ye and go over what duties ye will be taking over.”
At her surprised look, Keithen shrugged. “She assured me she is looking forward to having some of her duties taken over by ye. Since my sister left, her time is much less hers.”
Ava nodded. “Do ye know what kind of duties she will give me? I have managed most of my household, therefore I’m competent.”
“I do not know but I am sure she will explain it to ye.”
There was uncertainty when she looked to him. “Surely yer mother expected someone else as yer wife, not me, a Mackenzie.”
“Mother is a kind person, I assure ye. She does not harbor any rancor toward ye.”
When Ava wrung her hands, he wanted to calm her, but wasn’t sure how to go about it. “I am not sure yer household will allow for a Mackenzie to give any orders.”
“I will ensure they do,” Keithen said, knowing it would be a hard road ahead for Ava. Wounds were still fresh, and people did not forget that it was a Mackenzie who’d taken so many brothers, fathers and sons from them.
Her right eyebrow rose, giving a hint of the spitfire he remembered. “And how, exactly, do ye plan to arrange for the staff to fall in line and do as I ask?”
Keithen fought not to smile. “At first, I will speak to them. If that does not work, I will threaten them.”
“What is yer mother like?”
At the question, he had to consider how Lady Fraser came across. “Mother is spirited and at the same time calm. She manages to make time for whatever requires her attention. As much as she comes and goes, I often wonder how she ensures the house is run so well. Our staff respects and likes her. Through the years, she somehow was able to keep Esme and me from killing each other.”
Ava studied him for a long moment. “Does she hold influence over yer father?”
It was a strange question. But then he considered that her father was ruthless and perhaps Lady Mackenzie was as well. “She does, in a way. They balance each other well.”
When she frowned and turned away, he knew Ava’s mind was in all probability going over what her life would be like.
“Ye should rest now. I will return later.”
Chapter Ten
Her first meal at Fraser Keep went exactly as Ava expected. When people thought the laird’s family didn’t notice, they glared at her. Occasionally, she caught women looking from her to Keithen with obvious contempt.
Admittedly, her husband was quite handsome, which made her wonder how many of the women in the room had hoped for marriage. She slid a look to him as trays laden with freshly sliced meat were placed on the table.
“I expect it will get better over time.” Although he kept his gaze forward, he’d caught her looking at him. “Ye will have to be patient.”
Patience was the one thing she was exhausted of. For years, she’d been ignored by her family and late husband. At last meals, she’d grown accustomed to eating quickly and leaving since it was rare that anyone deemed it necessary for her to be part of any conversation.
Now again, this time, she had to wait and allow the people in the room, that would sooner see her dead, to not hate her. Ava almost laughed at the thought. “My life has been a study in patience,” she replied.
Without asking, Keithen served her. Taking time to choose the best cuts, he placed two pieces of meat on her plate. Then he once again took great pains to choose pieces of chopped turnip and did the same.
Ava wasn’t sure what to think of the practice. She’d not noticed any of the other husbands doing the same for their wives. Then again, she’d been much too busy trying to avoid eye contact while keeping her head up.
Instinctively, she knew it was imperative not to show weakness.
Seeming oblivious to the lukewarm reception by the others in the room, her aunt and Lady Fraser acted as if they were long-lost friends. Their conversation continuing about gardening and managing a large household. Lady Fraser, who sat on the other side of the laird, leaned forward to speak over the woman’s husband, until he finally ceded his seat to her.
When the meal was over, Ava allowed Keithen to help her to her feet, unsure what she’d do next.
He guided her to a table where two women sat, one that she immediately recognized as Catriona, the other a pleasant woman who smiled up at her warmly.
“Please sit,” Catriona invited. “I hope yer first meal here was not too unpleasant.” The woman looked to Keithen and a kind of unspoken exchange happened between them.
As the people in the room dispersed, most to find their way home, the room became almost empty. She noted that a few people lingered, almost reluctant to leave, some chatting amiably with guards, others with the laird and his wife.
The difference between life in this keep and her own was astounding. Unless putting up a front for visiting lairds, people from the surrounding villages were never invited to share last meal. And when they did come, there was a strained atmosphere as most were afraid to do anything that would annoy her late father.
When laughter sounded, Ava started, unused to hearing it inside. Two men bent at the waist laughing so hard, they wiped tears from their faces. Keithen neared and they tried to tell him what they spoke of but had a hard time as they could not contain their mirth. Finally, Keithen joined in the laughter, producing a deep rich sound.
“It is quite different here than what I am used to,” Ava admitted when she noticed Catriona and the other women studying her. “There was never laughter in my home.”
“I cannot imagine life without the sound of it,” the woman said. “I am Flora, Miss Catriona’s companion.”
Ava met the woman’s gaze and understood the silent message. Catriona remained fragile and she should proceed with caution when discussing anything to do with her home or clan.
Thankfully, Catriona didn’t seem to notice. She gave Ava’s hand a soft squeeze. “How do ye feel?”
After what the woman had been through, tossed to guards by her father to do with as they saw fit, which they did, Ava was struck by her kindness.
“As if in a dream. Not a good dream at that,” Ava confided. “I am not sure how to feel actually.”
Catriona’s gaze moved from her to where Keithen stood. “He is a good and honorable man who will stand by ye. Believe me when I tell ye that it was not easy for him to send ye away.”
A familiar tightness in her chest formed at the reminder of one of the most humiliating days of her life.
“Lady Fraser has invited us to picnic in the garden tomorrow,” her aunt announced, having neared. “I am afraid this day has proven too much and I must retire.”
Ava stood and kissed her aunt’s cheek. “Thank ye for coming Aunt Theresa. Yer presence means so much to me.”
Her aunt nodded in understanding. “I worry for ye, sweet dear. It will be hard to leave ye here. However, I will have to trust that yer husband will keep ye safe.”
Both looked to where Keithen and the two men remained. All three were in deep conversation with gesturing and such. It looked as if they were close friends.
When she sat, Catriona too looked to where the men were. “The man on the left is Ewan Ross, cousin to Laird Malcolm Ross. He, along with fifty men, came to live here after our alliance with his clan. The other is Broden McRainey, a guard and childhood friend of Keithen’s.”
“Yer clan and Clan Ross have become very close,” Ava stated matter-of-factly. “Tis nice when those things happen on friendly terms.”
; “Aye,” Catriona agreed. “I plan to visit, once I am able to travel...I miss Esme greatly.”
Esme Ross had married a cousin to Laird Ross, Ruari, a man Ava had met once. She had been struck by the man’s large physique.
It was not much later that Keithen came to fetch her. Obviously, he’d noticed her yawning. Catriona and Flora stood and also claimed to be retiring.
Altogether, by the end of the evening, Ava had not had a totally unpleasant day. Ending the evening in the company of women had not been something she was used it and she had struggled to maintain a conversation. Thankfully, Catriona seemed to not mind long moments of silence.
The bedchamber had been prepared for them. Obviously, someone had ordered fresh bedding and for the fire to be lit. There was a pitcher of flowers on a table and neatly folded cloths on the wash basin.
Unsure how to proceed, Ava moved to stand in front of the fire and held out her hands although, if she were to be honest, it wasn’t necessary.
“I will give ye privacy to prepare for bed,” Keithen said and walked out of the room.
It wasn’t going to be that way between them for long, she was aware. However, it was very kind of him to allow it then. Ava hurriedly undressed and with the water and a fragrant poultice that were on the washstand, cleansed away the dirt of the day. Once done, she slipped a night rail on over her head and climbed into the bed.
Not much later, Keithen entered. He didn’t look toward the bed, but instead went to the wardrobe and removed his boots and trews. She noted he left his tunic on and then, like her, washed up at the washstand.
Then he climbed into bed and lay on his back looking up at the ceiling.
“I am not used to sharing my bedchamber...or my bed actually,” he said, still looking straight up. “If I do something while I’m asleep that annoys ye, do not hesitate to jab me with yer elbow.”
Ava turned to gape at him. “Jab ye?”
“Ye know,” he demonstrated by gently pushing his elbow into her side. “To wake me.”
A Fearless Rebel (Clan Ross Book 5) Page 8