Page 68 of A Fearless Rebel

Keithen told him everything. Mostly because repeating it helped him understand it himself. “I am not sure how I feel in this moment.”

Laird Fraser poured two glasses of whisky and handed him one. “The only thing ye can do is allow time to pass. Ye need to heal and yer wife does as well.”

“She blames herself for everything, and although it is partially true, I am to blame as well for my continued quest of revenge.”

“Rebelliousness is not without consequences,” his father said, and Keithen realized the deep truth. He’d rebelled against his father and sought to get revenge and now his own child had paid the price.

His father placed a hand on Keithen’s shoulder. “Learn this, my son. There is a time and a place for everything. The first reaction is not always the right one.”

Keithen nodded. He slogged out of the room and, upon noting the long corridor in front, he motioned a servant over. “Help me get to Miss Catriona’s room.”

*

“Keithen,” Catriona hurried to help him into the room. The door remained open as she helped him to sit and then brought a stool to rest his leg on. She studied him. “Ye look unwell.”

“Bring some mead and ask Eileen to make some meat broth.” When the servant hurried away, she turned back to him. “Ye should not be about so much.”

He studied his friend and, as always, his heart broke at considering what she’d endured at the hands of the Mackenzie’s guardsmen. Months later, scars on her neck remained. Since her return, she wore a high collar on her gowns, which made him aware there had to be many others hidden.

“Why are ye here?” Catriona asked. “Do ye need to talk?”

He nodded. “I need to ask ye some things.”

“Very well.” Catriona lowered to a second chair. “What is it?”

“Years ago, Esme told me ye were in love with me. Because I knew I was destined to marry someone my father chose, I made every effort to not give ye hope.”

Catriona’s expression barely changed. She waited for him to continue.

“I wish that I could say I felt the same way. I have always loved ye dearly, but only as a sister,” Keithen continued. “And now I question it. Mainly because I brought so much pain and disaster to our door because I was driven mad with the need to avenge what happened to ye. I have been killing every man that touched ye.”

This time, Catriona reacted, her eyes widening. She knew this but was still surprised by his admission. “Oh…” she hesitated and swallowed. “Oh, Keithen.” Her eyes filled with sadness.

“I went against my father’s orders and now I learn Ava lost our child because she rode so far to try to save my life.” He hung his head, defeated. “I am not sure what to do or how to feel. What should I feel?” He fought to keep tears from spilling.

Catriona met his gaze. “Angry, hurt and betrayed. Ye acted out of love. Ye would have done the same if it were Esme who was mistreated.”

He acknowledged it was true. For Esme, he would have killed them all.

She hesitated and took his hand. “Darling, what Esme said was true. Ye have always been the man I loved. Ye are the bravest man I have ever known.”

Footsteps sounded, probably the servant, but no one entered.

Catriona continued. “Despite how I felt about ye, now when I see ye and Ava together, I understand the true meaning of fate.”

“Why would fate bring us together? To what end?” Keithen asked, too angry to keep his voice down.

“Because there is no ye without her in yer life now. Admit it.”

Ava walked down the corridor holding two glasses of mead. She’d intercepted a servant heading for Catriona’s room and taken the drinks as an excuse to speak to her. Upon reaching the doorway, she’d stopped at hearing Catriona’s voice. She’d been professing her love to Keithen.

What she’d said was not meant for anyone other than Keithen’s ears.

“Take these to Miss Catriona,” she told the confused servant she’d taken the glasses from just moments ago.

Chapter Twenty

Ava’s chest expanded almost to a painful point with each breath. Her child was gone. For days, she’d kept the thought at bay, blocking out what had occurred, the true reason for all the blood. But now that she’d spoken the words, it was as if a knife had been thrust into her chest and sliced it open.