Page 48 of Sinbound to the Highlander
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Back at the castle in the afternoon, Evan nodded his farewells to the Laird, and went to clean up and don a clean tunic to eat. Passing the Great Hall, he spotted that Elspeth was at the table, speaking to her mother, but Freya was absent. Before he could wonder where she was, she and his mother came in with pleased smiles on their faces.
While washing and donning a new tunic, Evan reflected on how well the day had gone. Laird Lobhdain had gone with him to the mines, the fisheries, and the farm fields. The advice the older man had given him was still in his mind, and he intended to act on them.
Fixing a cuff on his tunic, he approached the dais, “Happy ye are all here. Miss Milleson and Miss Crushom, would ye do me the honor of riding out with me this afternoon? To the seaside.”
Elspeth’s face brightened, happier than he had ever seen her. “I’d be delighted, Maither?”
She laughed and patted her daughter on the shoulder, “Finish yer meal, Elspeth, the sea isnae going anywhere.”
Slumping back into her seat, Elspeth went back to her food, while Freya joined her. Evan cocked his head, as his eyes ran over her—she had a different air around her; she looked more confident. His eyes then shot to his mother, wondering what his mother had said to Freya to make her act so differently. She met his gaze, and her smile gave nothing away; instead, she lifted her goblet. Shaking his head, Evan lifted his as well.
The meal passed, and the moment she rested her knife down, Elspeth was off to her room. Freya, who had picked at her meal, was soon after. He vowed to ask her what was preoccupying her mind, but knew that he had to be a part of it. Last night was not forgotten for him, either.
He helped Miss Milleson and Freya into the carriage, and, mounting his horse, he nodded to his guards, and they were off to see the seaside. The ride, less than half-an-hour from his home, was done smoothly, and they arrived with time to spare, but Elspeth had begged for them to stay so she could see the sunset—and so they had. Both ladies had entered the carriage happy, but exiting it, had Freya deeply subdued.
Standing just a few feet away from the water’s edge, Elspeth and Freya gazed out into Moray Firth. Evan stood apart from them, as he had seen this sight almost all his life. The sea wind was chilly but carried the brisk smell of the sea.
Elspeth did not seem to notice as she was nearly hopping on her feet to get to the water’s edge. It hurt him deeply that Freya was distressed and vowed to find out why when they had a moment to themselves. While Elspeth was gazing out into the horizon, Freya folded her skirts, crouched, and sifted through the sand for shells. His heart warmed when he saw the pin through the bun at the nape of her neck.
She must have found what she was looking for, because she stood, just as the sun was dipping down the horizon. There was still light around them, and Elspeth turned to him with a pleased sigh.
She then laced her arm through Evan’s, who hurried to oblige her, “Promise me that when we’re married, ye’ll take me here every once in a while, when we arenae bothered with clan’s business and whatnot. And before our bairns are born,” she wrinkled her nose delicately. “And mayhap when they are cryin’ and makin’ a fuss. We’ll just leave them with their nursemaids, aye.”
His eyebrow ticked up, “Aye.”
She waved dismissively, “‘Tis just as I was telling Freya, how wonderful our lives will be when we’re married, how we’ll travel, see the wonders of the world, how we’ll have the best of all things, food, clothes, and the people around us, but most of all, we’ll be happy.”
Evan bit back a grimace—no wonder Freya was despondent. To have all that thrown in her face from a woman with little empathy had to sting. He helped Elspeth back into the carriage and then Freya. Her hand was cold from the water, but he gave it an extra tight squeeze to reassure her. Her lips ticked at the corner, and again, he held in his words for when they were alone.
Oh, Freya, Dear Heart, I wish I could soothe yer pain.
Closing the door behind her, he mounted the pacing steed swiftly, and they were off. On the way back, he tossed ideas around on how to get her to open up to him, but nothing stuck. He arrived home still deep in thought, when his eye caught the Celtic symbol of protection carved into his gates, and an idea crept into his mind.
When the carriage stopped at the front courtyard, he helped both out but held back Freya, and when Elspeth was on her way in, said, “Meet me at the stables when ye ken yer sister is asleep.”
She shot him a curious look, but nodded. As she went off, he looked back at the symbol and smiled. Hoping that she would like where he’d take her to, he went off to prepare. The hours between sunset, and when Freya did meet him in the stables were torture to him, but when she came in, covered in a thick coat, he breathed out in relief.
When he reached for her—she shied away, and that cut him deep. “I am nae sure why ye called me here.”
“Because I want to show you somethin’ real, somethin’ that I ken ye’d find interestin’,” Evan replied. “Let me show ye, please.”
Her lips folded briefly before she nodded, and he lifted her onto the saddled horse. Raising himself behind her, he urged the horse out and into a path he had traveled a few times, a path that led them to tall Pict effigy in a hallowed GleninForres,just a few minutes from his home.
Moonlight was generous enough to guide them over the road and through the forest, and right into the glen. Evan both saw and felt when Freya saw what he had carried her there for. The obelisk was three times his six-foot height, and when he slipped her off the horse, she gravitated to it like iron to a lodestone.
She rested her hand on the carved surface, tracing her fingers over the carvings of men at war. Evan went behind her, resting his hand near hers. “They say it was erected in honor of King Dub mac Maíl Coluim. The brother of Kenneth the Second.”
“It's amazing,” Freya whispered. “I’ve never seen somethin’ like this before.”
Covering her hand with his, Evan added, “I’ve been told that mages come to his place on every Lammas, Samhain, Imbolc, and Beltane to celebrate those festivals. I’ve never personally seen them, but passersby have reported seeing straw dolls and the cold remains of bonfires.”
“Druids cast spells, aye,” Freya whispered while she traced a figure carrying a club. “What kinds of spells did ye ken they would cast here?”
“Spells for peace,” Evan supposed, “to protect us from harm, for a good harvest, a fruitful summer…love?”
Turning in his arms, Freya titled her head up, “Love?”
