Page 1 of Highlander’s Evil Side

Chapter One

Beitris

Scottish Highlands

July 15, 1432

Beitris twirled a brown tendril around her finger as she watched the lady and laird, Peigi and Hendry of the Dunbar Clan, crane their heads towards one another. No one could question the love they had for each other. It was written in their gazes, their very touch, their every manner of being. Lady Peigi’s head glimmered honey-gold in the candelabra’s light while her green eyes glistened with immense joy as they whispered amongst themselves. She lovingly pushed away Hendry’s fiery hair, exposing the eye patch covering his right eye.

Beitris recalled him losing the eye when the Black Stags had attacked his family, making him an orphan at fifteen summers. The cost of losing his parents had left him solemn, often spending night and day seeking his revenge. However, it had been years since the Black Stags disbanded, and peace was upon them. Beitris had known Hendry since they were children, and she had never seen him as happy as she did now.

It was all thanks to Peigi.

A little boy with ginger hair and sapphire eyes, appearing like a miniature version of Hendry, ran towards them with outstretched arms, giggling mischievously. Beitris chuckled, placing a hand to her mouth while she watched Hendry gather the boy into his arms and tickle his belly. A girl, similar in age, came to Peigi’s side. Her shoulders slumped while she stomped her foot in irritation. The little boy she tugged behind her, looking not much older than two summers, copied the movement and nearly made Beitris snort in an attempt to keep decorum. His chubby face was covered with jam, and he kept stuffing his little hand into his mouth.

Beitris watched the joy come over Peigi’s face as she grabbed her youngest son and settled him into her lap. Her heart twinged as Peigi stroked a stray curl away from her daughter’s face. The love and adoration in Peigi’s gaze made Beitris yearn for something she didn’t know if she could ever have.

Her hand slowly lowered as envy twisted in her stomach. She wished she could have a life like theirs, one filled with love and joy. When she first met Peigi, it didn’t appear that the lass could ever be with the laird and have such a life, given that she was a lowly maid and the daughter of a wretched brigand. However, their love prevailed all.

Beitris lowered her gaze, knowing if she stared any longer, her envy would turn to sadness. This was to be a happy event, a celebration for Laird Hendry of Dunbar’s fifteen years as clan head. If she allowed her sorrow to take hold now, she knew there would be no way of stopping it.

Her hands fisted in her lap, reminded of her father insisting she marry. She wished he would understand. These past few years, after turning down the alliance with the Dunbars so Peigi and Hendry could be together, her father was constantly on the lookout for a new betrothal. Her gaze darkened as she recalled him inviting several possible suitors to the Gordon Castle. Each and every one she turned away, whether it be from their arrogance or their need to control her. If she was going to marry, she would rather do it for love like Peigi and Hendry, not just to seal an alliance and calm her father’s worries.

“And what do ye think would happen to ye if I were to pass before ye were well and settled?”his voice echoed in her head, infuriating her even more.

Even the maids at Gordon Castle whispered rumors throughout the estate, not caring if their words reached her ears. She could recall them now, which irritated Beitris even more.

“Poor thing.”

“Never had a mother to show her the way.”

“Her father did his best.”

“But I’m afraid it wasn’t enough.”

“Her heart is too wild to warrant a husband.”

“Soon, she’ll be too old to marry.”

As the years went on, the whispers became harder to ignore. Ever since she ended her betrothal with Hendry, there were more and more discussions about who she would marry and when the wedding would take place. She knew very well that she wasn’t getting any younger. No one needed to remind her of that fact. And she knew more than anyone what it was like growing up without a mother to tend to her, care for her. Her father did his best. He taught her how to ride a horse, hold a bow and arrow, and gave her a teacher to instruct her in her reading and writing skills. He raised her to be a strong woman, and she was thankful for that.

Sometimes he deemed her a bit too strong in her ways. However, it didn’t matter. She would marry when she met the right man—one who saw her as a partner rather than his property.

“Excuse me, my lady.”

Beitris turned towards the sound, finding a young squire bowing before her, mere inches from her side, while holding out a small letter with both hands. She could hardly see his face due to the shaggy blond curls covering the top of his head. His hands trembled a bit as if he was shy. She was able to catch a faint flush on his cheeks.

“This is for ye,” he said nervously while still keeping his head down. “It came in on the medicinal cart before the festival. I apologize for my tardiness. It got lost with the healer.”

“No apologies needed,” she said while taking the letter from his hand.

Beitris didn’t watch him leave. She recognized that scrawl. Staring at her name, she couldn’t stop the feeling of doom seeping into her skin, chilling her insides. It was her father’s handwriting. Something must be wrong for him to write her so soon after leaving the castle. She knew he was getting up there in years. It wasn’t long ago a fever had taken hold of him. The red sigil stared at her, the stag watching her with each breath she took.

With quivering hands, she broke the Gordon seal, her blue eyes pouring over the contents while she gripped the paper. As she read, fear was quickly replaced with fiery rage.

My dearest daughter, Beitris, the letter began,

It is with the greatest pleasure I write to you. You must return as soon as the Dunbar festivities have ended, for I have promised your hand in marriage to the only son and clan head, Laird Fraser of the MacClerys. At long last, he has finally returned from his ten years of study in both Edinburgh and France, and I believe he will make a perfect match for you. Think clearly my daughter, for this will make a wonderful alliance for our clan. It has been too long since your parting with Hendry, and after the last suitor you demeaned, I fear you will spend your final years alone in this world. Please, consider Laird Fraser, daughter, and my feelings. I do not want to leave this world knowing you are alone.