Page 52 of Sinbound to the Highlander
After giving her directions to a room, Evan wished her the best as she made to leave the room.
“Send for me, if ye need help,” her husband replied when she was at the door. “I’ll stay here and speak with Saunderson a little more.”
Placing a kiss on her husband’s cheek, Lady Lobhdain left the room. Evan’s eyes traced after her before going back to the Laird. When the door closed, he tapped his fingers on the desk. “And what is that ye need to speak about?”
“Ye feel more for Freya than mere admiration and respect,” Laird Lobhdain pronounced. “I can see it in yer eyes, just as I can tell there is more to this request than ye say, Laird Ruthven, nay need to deny it. I only charge ye to love and protect Freya as long as ye live.”
“I swear on me life,” Evan replied, grateful that the Laird was not pushing him to reveal how, when, and why he had come to care more for Freya than her sister. “But that also comes with starting with honesty. Ye are right when ye suspect that I care more for Freya than spoken, and it is because I’ve come to ken who she is. I dinnae expect to fall for another woman while I was engaged to Elspeth, as I have given me vow, but it came about so gradually that it took me by surprise as well.”
Remembering his vow to be tactfully blunt, Evan did not shy away from the man’s assessing gaze, “It was deeply dishonorable of me, and I admit it, and I wish I could have followed the path I’d set for meself, but fate must have had other plans. I never expected it, and I apologize for the deception and leadin’ Miss Milleson on, but I had always planned on finding a wise way to break that engagement, without causing bad blood between us.”
The smile on the Laird's face told Evan that the man had suspected something of the sort, “I was wonderin’ when ye’d come out with it. Listen, Saunderson, we men arenae that subtle, if ye are old as Methuselah or a young lad. Being coy is a woman’s game, and I saw yer intentions shifting all along. I’m happy to give Freya over into yer hands.”
“Ye’re nae angry?” Evan asked.
“A little miffed,” Laird Lobhdain replied. “But I understand, Saunderson. Love doesnae come how ye’d want it. Speaking of, ye might have to pray for me wife. She kent what I meant when I said that Elspeth willnae take it well.”
Concern for his newest intended chilled Evan’s chest, “Do ye ken I’ve put Freya into a position that will endanger her?”
“From whom?” Laird Lobhdain asked, his eyebrows inching up. “Elspeth? Nay, never. Elspeth might be petulant and pout about it, but she willnae make it bad for Freya.”
Appeased, Evan stood, “Mayhap we should join them?”
Laird Lobhdain stood and tugged his thick saffron shirt down over his trews. Evan was in step with him toward the room he had given Lady Lobhdain to use. Elspeth was there, her legs crossed at the ankles, sitting primly while Freya was seated across her, but slumped over. Elspeth was stone face and pallid, while hands hid Freya's face.
“I suppose ye’ve told them,” Laird Lobhdain said wryly.
“I have,” Lady Lobhdain replied. “Elspeth says she is disappointed but doesnae mind. I’m still waitin’ for Freya’s reaction.”
Highly doubtful that Elspeth had let the engagement go that easily, he tried to read her face, but it was indecipherable. Freya was still bent over with her hands shielding her face, and her shoulders were slightly trembling. Her father reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.
“Freya, there’s naythin’ to be afraid off,” he said gently. “Please, look at us. Ye dinnae have to hide. Laird Ruthven explained it all. Do ye ken fallin’ in love is somethin’ we’d punish yer for?”
