Page 30 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
Weaving through the ancient oaks and rowan trees, whose leaves had turned the most beautiful golden yellow, the rhythm of the mare’s movements put Freya into a trance as she contemplated Ersie’s words.
Of course, Freya did not want the pretense to become real, nor did she want what was temporary to become permanent, but she had to wonder what she was capable of.
If Ersie can beat an entire castle’s worth of men, could I also achieve what seems impossible?
Could she really make Doughall feel some sort of emotion? Did he feel the same lust that he had inspired in her the previous day,or had he really thoughtthatwas a punishment? What would it earn her if she could evoke some feeling within him?
Satisfaction, maybe? To show that he’s nae the only one with power to wield.
She had been made to feel small and insignificant for most of her life, always in her sister’s shadow, always the least favorite. But she had often wondered what she would do if an opportunity arose where she could emerge from that shadow, revealing her true nature—sides of herself that even she did not know existed.
If she letthisopportunity slide, she might not get another.
Perhaps Ersie had a point after all… and Freya potentially had one to prove.
11
A‘headache’ had succeeded in keeping Freya out of Doughall’s way for an entire day. A ‘headache’ that had involved hours of poring over fine gowns that Ersie had somehow acquired and Freya having her hair manipulated every which way by the skillful hands of two maids until one particular look had been settled on.
Although, according to Doughall’s aunt, the ‘headache’ had not been necessary at all. The mighty Laird had gone to scout the borders and nearby villages shortly after Freya and Ersie had ridden to the loch and had not yet returned.
“If he doesnae make it to the feast tonight, I might well pick a switch and strike him on the arse with it,” Isla muttered as the gloomy afternoon outside the chamber windows began to shift into the bronzed hues of sunset, piercing the rainclouds with shafts of burnished light.
Freya could not sit still, perching on the window seat, pacing to the bed, getting up and trying the writing desk’s chair, moving to the fireplace to stare anxiously into the flames for a while, before repeating the circuit again and again.
This was a mistake. He’s nae even goin’ to be here. Another punishment, nay doubt.
She smoothed her hands down the front of the gold-green gown and then pulled them away, worried that her clammy palms would leave a mark on the delicate fabric.
Is that why he didnae protest about the feast? Did he decide then that he wasnae goin’ to show up?
He had notleft without ensuring she was well-protected, though. In addition to Ersie, who had spent the previous night curled up on the floor by the door like a guard dog, there had been no fewer than four soldiers stationed outside her bedchamber at any time.
“Ye look so beautiful, Freya,” Moira piped up, her hands clasped together. “Truly, I never thought ye could look so… perfect. I wasnae certain when ye said ye were goin’ to wear that shade of green, but I was mistaken. It’s extraordinary.”
“It really is, Freya,” Isla agreed, her smile not reaching her eyes. “And I shallkillme nephew if he doesnae arrive in time to see ye like this.”
Ye willnae be the only one.
ButFreya held her tongue, telling herself that she only cared for her mother’s sake. Moira would be heartbroken if Doughall was absent from the feast, denying the hopeless twin her moment in the figurative sun.
Moira rubbed her throat. “What reason would he have to stay away?”
“Och, well, um…” Isla hesitated. “There might be an attack, or some conflict to mediate, or the weather might turn foul where he is. He wouldnae stay away for nay good reason, I assure ye. And it’s still early—I’m sure hewillarrive in time.”
Freya did not believe her, but Moira seemed appeased. Perhaps Isla was not as convinced by the ruse as Freya had thought, merely guided by the same wishful thinking that appeared to have everyone at Clan MacGordon in its grip.
“I think I’ll walk for a while, and find Ersie while I’m at it,” Freya announced. “This room is too warm, and I wouldnae want to sweat through such fine material.”
She headed for the door before anyone could protest, slipping out into the cold hallway. The four guards stationed there dipped their heads in respect, though a few peered up through their eyelashes, taking in the sight of her in that beautiful gown.
What would Doughall make of that, I wonder?
As if they could hear her thoughts, the guards lowered their gazes.
But as Freya began to walk down the hallway to the door that led to the staircase, the guards followed her.
That would not do at all.
