Chapter 9 - ***REVISED***

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Breanne was beginning to become self-sufficient and loved every minute of freedom she felt. The time she'd spent away from her mother and the prying eyes of the ton made her less self-conscious of her decisions, her actions; allowing her to limit the time she usually would waste second-guessing herself. At last, there was no one around to chastise or instruct her on whom to converse with, when to bring a certain subject up, what to wear, or even what to drink. Now that she thought about it, she was extremely surprised her mother hadn't set up a schedule for her as to when she should use the privy.

One thing she took exception to, though, was the fact that Reese did not allow her to escape the prying eyes of the colony, a discovery she made the morning she tried to go out exploring beyond the its boundaries. The day had been glorious; rays from the sun settled on the misted flat land, causing blades of the bright green grass to shimmer like diamonds. The MacIntosh's land was extensive; the grand home she settled into stood out amongst the smaller huts situated near it.

Intent on making friends, she'd started on her stroll, and was quite certain that if she was able to converse easily with Magnus and Alva, there would be more Scots that she'd get along with. Problem was, like before, everyone appeared to be preoccupied in one way or another. She watched from afar, noticing that while some men labored in mending fences and training horses, others engaged in combat training. Her brows furrowed at that realization.

Because of his ancestors' history, Reese seemed to be a bit overly protective of the people and property. Of course, there were probably thieves and predators about, but was there really a need for the men to be training in ways of the fist? Shielding her eyes from the sun, she noticed that Reese didn't simply observe and instruct his men, but also took part in the fighting.

Breanne watched, breathless, as he sparred against three men at a time, his arms striking like lightning in a dance unlike any she'd ever observed. Her attention was drawn from his person as one of the three came up from behind him, intent on taking Reese down.

The fellow was not fast enough.

Reese turned so quickly that he took his opponent by surprise; and with a swift, solid blow to his chest, struck him to the ground. The remaining two followed suit, each crashing atop the other in a jumbled heap. Breanne released a relieved breath, and turned away as cheers sounded from onlookers.

"Foolish man," she mumbled.            

As she strolled away from the scene, she happened to make eye contact with a woman who was digging in her garden. Breanne smiled and waved; intent on assisting her.

Almost immediately, the woman stood and stared for a second, then turned her back on Breanne. Stopping in her tracks, Breanne stood there for a bit, blinked a couple of times, and then switched direction, deciding instead to try and speak with the woman's neighbor. She received the same treatment, not only from women and men, but even the little children ran from her.

Feeling pitiful, Breanne determined that she would take her walk beyond the perimeter of the clustered colony, out into the wild land that, hopefully, no one owned.

"Ye canna pass," a burly, red-haired man had informed her. "None from th' colony leaves withoot an escort. It's fer yer own protection."

"Of course, but I'm not really a member of your colony."

"Ye live 'ere, ye're a part av it," a dark-haired man strongly insisted.

"But I'm English," Breanne stated.

"It doesna matter," the red-haired man said.

"You hate the English," she pressed. "You all do, that much is evident."

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