Page 65 of A Scot's Pride
Freya could practically hear her father say “Thank God” at the end of that sentence.
Riley, who’d remained in shocked silence the entire time, let out a sigh of relief, sagging against Freya’s side.
“Sir, if I may have a word in private?” Bryson asked.
Papa looked defeated, no doubt guessing this would be about what to do with Campbell, which likely a lot of it would be, but Freya knew too that he was going to ask for her hand. She tried to hide the grin on her face, as the situation from the outside might make her look absurd.
As Papa and her fiancé made their way inside, Molly and Cousin Arthur took Grace inside, and Lady Daven slipped from behind the carriage where she’d been observing the entire thing in shocked silence.
“Well, now, this was almost as fun as the swans chasing the lot of you ladies at the park.” Lady Daven laughed softly.
“I’d have rather that than what we just went through,” Freya said with a groan. “Give me angry birds any day!”
Riley laughed, the three of them falling into fits until Freya clutched her stomach.
“I could use a glass of wine,” Lady Daven said.
“As could I,” Riley added.
“I could honestly go for something a little stronger,” Freya said, having grown used to Bryson’s whisky.
“I know where Mama hides her whisky,” Riley whispered, her eyes flicking up toward the house, where no doubt Leila was staring down at them.
Freya gave a mock gasp, her hand coming dramatically to her chest.
The three of them went inside, and Riley combed through the books on the shelf until she came to one, opened it up and pulled out an ornately carved flask.
“If Papa knew she tippled, he’d be incensed,” Riley said through giggles.
Freya grinned. “This is hilarious.”
Riley opened the flask, took a sniff and coughed, shook her head and handed it to Lady Daven.
The older woman sniffed it too. “Whew, that is a strong Scotch.” She took a tiny sip, gave a little cough and then took a longer one before passing it to Freya. “Your turn, dear, but be warned, this may put some hair on your chest.”
Freya snorted and took a long pull. My god, it burned. She shoved the flask at Riley, who still seemed hesitant, but then she took a long gulp and stuck her tongue out with a heaving breath as if her throat was on fire.
“That was intense,” Riley said.
Lady Daven took one more sip before they put the cap back on, hid it in the carved-out space inside the pages of a botany book, and then stuck it back on the shelf.
“Well, I do feel a little better,” Freya said, collapsing on a chair. Her heart had finally stopped pounding as if it wanted to crack through her ribs.
“How did you end up with glass in your shoulder?” Riley asked, ringing the bell for tea.
Lady Daven started pulling other books off the shelf, noting she wanted to see what else was hidden and that it was incredibly clever. She needed to do the same thing, especially with her sweets since her sister often took the last one.
“When our carriage rolled, the window shattered, and a piece of glass was lodged into my arm.”
“Oh, my heavens,” Riley gasped.
Freya recounted the entire ordeal to her, with Lady Daven adding details here and there.
“I can’t believe it.” Riley shook her head.
“I’m still having a hard time, and I was there.” Freya poured out the tea service brought in by a servant, adding three lumps of sugar to her tea to spite her mother who would most certainly not approve of her generous usage.
“I’m so glad you’re home.” Riley stood and leaned over Freya, wrapping her in a hug. “So glad.”
