Page 63 of Sinbound to the Highlander
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Doubtful that Elspeth had suddenly mended her ways, Evan decided to watch her. She did engage with Freya more often, speaking with her over the table at the meals and walking with her in the massive grounds of his home. When the snow got too thick, they stayed inside by the fireside and talked. Elspeth even followed Freya to the healing hall, once.
The few times he had her to himself, she spoke about Elspeth, and Evan was getting concerned. Elspeth seemed overly interested in their wedding day, giving her opinion on what color Freya’s wedding dress should be, her hairstyle, and her ornaments. She even gave Freya tips on how to walk down the aisle of the kirk. But in all that, Elspeth did not lose her unconcerned look, not even when they embraced before parting at night.
Now, when they were sharing a meal in his quarters, Freya was enthusiastically chattering on how Elspeth told her to bathe in milk before the day; it would make her skin softer.
“And she said—” Evan kissed her quickly.
Surprised, she pulled away, and warm red tinted her cheeks, “Too much?”
“Aye,” Evan said while fingering a lock of her loose hair. “I’m happy that ye and yer sister are finding common ground, but arenae ye a little bit concerned at how interested she is in yer affairs?”
Shaking her head, Freya’s lips twisted, “I daenae want to ken too deeply into it. I want to hold onto what she said, that she’s truly seen the error of her ways and wants to change.”
After so many years of getting all she wants, I highly doubt she is giving up on being me bride. Mayhap she’s trying to be so close to Freya to look better in me eyes.
Freya was a lovely soul, very forgiving and admittedly a bit naïve, but he felt she shouldn’t be so ready to overlook the mistreatment Elspeth had given her the days before so quickly. Smoothing his hand from her hair to her face, Evan propped her face up with his thumb.
“Freya, I ken ye want to see the best in Elspeth, and ye should, but I daenae want ye to drop yer guard around her,” Evan said. “Ken of it, for many years she manipulated her parents into seeing what they wanted to see, daenae ye ken she might be daeing the same to ye to have ye like her?”
A tight knit of her brows told Evan that his words were not received with the grace he had hope for. She pulled away from his hand and shook her head with a wary look in her eye, “Are ye saying…I shouldnae forgive her?”
“Nay,” he rushed to correct her. “It’s just, Freya, ye arenae aware of the many tactics people use to deceive ye into gaining their trust again. A trust they daenae deserve.”
“It daenae sound as if ye want me to come to good terms with her,” Freya edged away from him. “For all her bad sides, she is still a human being, Evan, and she needs compassion. She did some awful things, aye, but she should have someone who has faith in her to change.”
Frustrated that Freya was missing his point, Evan pressed, “That’s nae…I just want ye to nae give her all yer trust, Freya. People daenae change that quickly unless a bright light on the way to Damascus blinded them.”
Her eyes shut off completely, and she stood up while crossing her arms over her chest, “Are ye sayin’ she has nay chance to become a better person?”
Joining her on her feet, Evan reached out for her, but she danced out of his reach, and the worst part was that pain was lancing over her face, “I have hope she will, but I doubt it will be that quick.”
Her lips went tight, and her face was entirely shut off. Freya shook her head slowly, “I cannae believe ye, Evan. Everyone has a chance to change, and they’ll get there faster if they have someone there to help them.”
Feeling that he was losing in getting through to her, he said, “I just deanae ken ye should give her all yer trust when she isnae givin’ ye anything.”
“She is,” Freya’s voice had dipped to a hush. “She is tryin’ to be me sister, one I never kent I could have had.”
“I daenae ken she likes ye, Freya,” Evan blurted, “Even now, she daenae seem to care about ye. She might act so but…” he paused to rake a hand through his hair, “I have never seen her be happy with ye, even when ye have spent hours together. I’m telling ye Freya; she doesnae deserve yer love.”
His words had pushed her over the edge, and he could see it when she fully closed off from him. She stepped away from him when he reached out for her. It cut deeper when she made for the door.
“Freya, please stop,” he reached out. “It’s yer last night here; please stay with me. We agreed, remember?”
Still, she backed away, “I cannae Evan. I daenae ken I can stay with ye tonight while we’re fighting. We cannae sleep in the same bed with all this disagreement between us.”
His chest went cold, “Freya—”
But she was already out the door. After clenching his eyes tight, Evan went to close it behind her, wishing that he could spin the dials of time and go back to stop himself from uttering those careless words. He did not sleep that night with regret, a sour ball, heavy in his heart.
The night was bitterly cold, even with the raging fire in his hearth, Evan felt no warmth. All his expectations of having Freya by his side, of loving her all the night through, to feel her body on his, to hear her soft cries and to have her in his arms, had faded away into a trite fantasy.
His empty bed mocked him, and when dawn came, the sheets were a prison. The Milleson’s would be off to their homes just after the morning meal, and there was nothing he could do to stop them.
I can ask her to stay, but I doubt she will accept.
Slipping out of bed, he winced at the cold stone floor where the warmth from the fire had not reached. His tub was filled, and after a quick bath, he donned another winter plaid, a thick gray one with thick blue sticking, woolen trews, and sturdy boots.
