Page 73 of A Fearless Rebel

“I think some sort of insect crawled over my arm.” Ava shook her arm dramatically and wiped her hand down it. “It was probably just my imagination.”

“They are coming indoors with the weather turning so cold outside,” Catriona explained. “I do not care for it myself.”

Surprisingly, Keithen came to bed just a few moments after Ava. He was quiet as he undressed and washed his face in the basin. “Mother is leaving for a long visit to my uncle’s. She told me ye plan to take over her duties.”

“Do ye approve?” Ava studied him closely, attempting to read his expression. If she was going to succeed in running the household, she would need his support.

He nodded. “Aye, of course. But ye must be prepared for some resistance. Stay firm.”

“Please do not intervene on my behalf. I will have to do this myself.”

“Come to me if ye need me.”

Keithen tipped her chin up so she could meet his gaze. “Do ye want to talk about the bairn?”

Instantly, her eyes welled and her chest constricted. All the things she’d kept in check threatened to break through, and Ava wasn’t sure she could control the myriad of emotions.

She shook her head. “I cannot.”

“Ye must at some point,” Keithen urged. “We both should.”

After pulling her against his chest, he stroked her hair. “I never considered bairns. I suppose most men think of having a son. But for some reason, it had not occurred to me.”

“Children are gifts from God. I feel as if I rejected it by my actions.” The dam broke and, unable to keep from it, Ava wailed. She cried, mourning the loss of her child as a consequence of her actions. She grieved for her father, her brother and for the loss of a family she never quite had.

Through it all, Keithen held her and brought a cloth so that she could blow her nose and wipe away the tears. Finally, exhausted, Ava slumped forward.

In a strange way, she felt cleansed, free.

“Ye are an exceptional woman. Do not ever allow yerself to think otherwise,” Keithen told her, his arms coming around her like a warm breeze.

“Yer words and body soothe me.”

She looked up at him, loving the man so much her entire being ached. “I am hopeful we will have several children. And yet, I prefer it to happen after I’m accepted by the clan. It would be horrible for our children to be mistreated in any way.”

“There is time. I do not doubt ye will win the people over.”

Despite everything that had occurred, hope filled her heart.

*

Just two days after Lady Fraser left, Ava was ready to give up. “I instructed ye to sweep up the rushes so they can be replaced. Why has that not been accomplished?” Ava pinned a pair of maids with her best annoyed look.

With a pinched expression, one of them shrugged. “Ye never told us to sweep them, Mistress. Ye just said lay out new rushes.”

“It goes without saying the old ones should be gathered up and thrown out prior to new ones being spread.”

“We do as we’re told,” the second one piped up.

Then both maids scurried away before she could say another word. Ava turned to study the great room. It was a horrible mess. New rushes thrown over old ones, the tables had yet to be cleaned and, to top it off, Laird Fraser was holding a council meeting as cook’s maids attempted to carry trays without tripping on the mounds of rushes.

Keithen, who sat next to his father, looked over to her. Concern was evident in his expression, but as she’d asked him not to intervene, he didn’t.

She stomped after the maids and caught them giggling in the corridor, just outside the kitchen.

“Come with me. Now.” She gritted the words out, glad to see their wide-eyed expressions.

Both of them followed her to a small alcove. “Each of ye, get a broom.” They did as they were told.