Page 66 of Married to the Ruthless Highlander
Emily turned her face away, her hand flying to her mouth, her shoulders shaking ever so slightly. Isla squeezed Freya’s shoulder and flashed her another wink through the mirror, while Adam and Moira stared dumbfounded.
Seizing her opportunity, Freya gently pulled away from Isla, taking her hand instead. “Would ye show me this gown ye think I might like? After all, we dinnae have much time left to decide, and I dinnae think I’d make the right impression if I showed up to me weddin’ wearin’ nothin’ at all.”
Moira’s horrified gasp followed Freya and Isla out of the room, and though Freya knew that it would come back to bite her later, it might have been one of the most satisfying moments of her life.
The danger had passed, her would-be killer had been dealt with, and the threats against her had been removed—if all she now had to worry about was her mother being offended, she would count herself lucky.
As the day wore on, crawling through the hours into the bronzed hues of sunset, the initial thrill of the morning’s victory had long faded into hand-wringing, heart-racing turmoil.
Moira had, predictably, made a point of avoiding her daughter. Adam and Emily had been similarly absent, and after helping Freya find the perfect gown, Isla had also been called away to attend to her duties.
It was as if the castle had emptied itself of anyone who might be able to distract Freya from the fact that, come tomorrow, she would get married. Even Ersie seemed to have vanished into thin air. As for Doughall, Freya had not expected to see him, considering his parting words to her, so she did not bother to look for him.
“It has finally happened,” she declared to no one at all in the dense silence of the secret library. “Aye, it has finally happened—I cannae read meself into contentment anymore! Nay, I’m… tired of readin’!”
The realization was a devastating one, for most of her life, she had relied on the comfort of books. She could spend days and days devouring epic stories of all kinds and never feel a jot of boredom or like she should do something else, but the anxiety in her soul had won out. It had robbed her of her usual joy.
This is hopeless.
Setting downThe Iliad,which had never failed to transport and cheer her up in the past but had become unreadable, she leaned forward and held her head in her hands.
It was too quiet, the serenity of the library allowing her thoughts to become too loud inside her skull. A terrible, jarring, nerve-wracking chain of thoughts that circled around and around until she would have done anything to make them silent.
She was getting married tomorrow, and her family was already planning how swiftly they could leave the festivities. Her beloved sister was nowhere to be found, and her soon-to-be husband wanted nothing to do with her because she had stupidly judged him based on something she had witnessed years ago, without having all the information.
A husband who would never love her, would never give her children, and would likely never change. Now that she knew, to some degree, how wrong she had been about him, the terms of their marriage were becoming even harder to swallow.
He had never been a devil, not really. And worse, it did not matter.
“So, be a good wife. Ask nothin’ more of me than what I have already offered and given.”
His words echoed in her mind, louder than the rest.
“Enough of this,” she hissed to herself, remembering the strength she had mustered while staring at herself in that awful yellow gown. “Dinnae be a mouse. What would a nae-mouse do right now?”
An idea came to her, so vivid and wonderful that she was up on her feet in an instant, knowing exactly where she might go to chase the clamoring thoughts of tomorrow and beyond from her mind. A place where she could just exist in the moment, and potentially tire herself enough to havesomesleep that night.
There was just one problem—how was she going to sneak out of the castle without being spotted? For this, she did not want an escort, not even Ersie.
Come on, Freya. Think. What would a nae-mouse do?
26
So, ye’ve finally decided to flee? Now that there’s nay danger, ye’re runnin’?
From the battlements, Doughall watched the cloaked figure weaving through the evening crowd that had gathered in the main courtyard. The castle residents were beginning their celebrations early, sharing drinks, offering food, striking up lively music, and hailing the new beginning that the next day’s festivities would bring.
Aside from the most necessary servants, none of them were required to work during the wedding day. That had been a last-minute decision from Doughall, spurred on by Ersie, and it looked like his people were making the most of it.
They willnae thank ye for ruinin’ their day of leisure, lass.
For if there was no wedding, they would have no holiday.
Not that Doughall planned to allow Freya to embarrass him by not attending their nuptials. He had promised Adam, and though he did not normally pay much attention to keeping promises, this was one exception.
Ye cannae run from me, lass. Nae now.
“Calston!” he barked at a nearby sentry.
