Page 101 of Taming the Highland Misfits
He had been aware that Freya was standing watching him, but he had been studiously ignoring her. However, he knew that he would have to walk past her to reach his bedroom, so he prepared to greet her, but Freya moved first, running up to him to kiss his cheek. She wrapped her arms around him and hugged him tightly.
“How are you? How is your family?” she asked, smiling valiantly, although she was finding it hard to get through the implacable mask Alex had put on. “Did you give them all my love?”
Alex nodded shortly, looking as though he wished he was somewhere else as she gave him a soft kiss on the lips. He did not move to put his arms around her or touch her in any way.
“I thought you would take a bit longer, but I am glad you’re back,” she went on. She was finding it extremely difficult to keep her smile pasted on, but she was resolved to make him talk to her. “I wanted to tell you how the preparations for the wedding are coming along. My dress?— ”
Alex turned away abruptly. “I have to go, Freya,” he answered. “I am very tired, I still have work to do and I do not have time to speak to you yet.” Then he strode away without a backward glance.
Freya stood staring at his retreating back for a moment, unable to believe that Alex had just spoken to her in such a rude and aggressive fashion. She was about to run after him again to demand an answer, but this time she could not.
Unbeknownst to Freya, Bearnard had been standing a few yards behind them and had heard everything. Now he gripped both her arms and stood in front of her, completely blocking her way.
She beat her fists against his shoulders with all her might for a few moments, but he was too strong for her and eventually she gave up, then Bearnard loosened his grip and let her go.
“Come,” he said gently. “Let us go and find somewhere to eat and talk, Freya.” For the first time he could remember, Bearnard was furious with Alex. Up until now, he had only ever seen Alex’s good points and had admired him to the point of adoration. However now, either he was turning into a nasty inconsiderate swine, or Bearnard was seeing a side of him he had never seen before.
Then he thought of another possibility; he, Bearnard, might just have become mature enough to realise that Alex was like every other idol. He had feet of clay, and was no better or worse than anyone else.
However, he did not enjoy seeing his sister, whom he loved, being treated in such a rude and aggressive fashion, and he resolved to speak to Alex about it later. He was not accustomed to feeling angry; it was not in his nature, but he knew that he was going to have to endure it until he and Alex sorted out the matter between them.
He should put his own concerns aside in order to tend to Freya for now. She was valiantly trying not to weep, but he could see that it was a struggle for her. He took her hand and led her to the dining room, where he poured them some wine and sat down beside her.
“He did not mean it, Freya,” Bearnard said gently. “I think he has a lot on his mind at the moment, and perhaps we interrupted him at the wrong time.”
Freya threw her wine down in one gulp and held out her glass for another. She felt wretched, and knew that if she drank too much she would live to regret it later, but at that moment she simply did not care.
Bearnard filled it, but looked at her anxiously. His sister was not usually much of a drinker; this was out of character, so he decided that he would allow her only one more before he put the bottle away. She might fly into a temper, but somehow, looking at her face, he thought it unlikely. He had never seen her looking so low in spirits before, and a fresh wave of anger swept over him.
“He will be back to his normal self the next time you see him, Freya,” he said. “I am sure of it.”
“I am not going to wait for him to dismiss me again,” she said grimly. “I will insist on speaking to him somehow, no matter what lengths I have to go to. We will resolve this. Something is wrong, Bearnard, and I intend to find out what it is.”
Bearnard looked at his sister thoughtfully for a few seconds. “He will tell us when he wants to, Freya.” His voice was gentle as he laid his hand over hers on the table in front of them. “Now, try to think about other things. You must be hungry. I know I am.”
She sighed. “I am, Bearnard, but I doubt I will be able to eat,” she replied.
“You must try,” he insisted. “Starving yourself will not help you one bit.” He rang and ordered some food for them, and although she had expected to be too anxious to eat, Freya polished off the chicken pie, vegetables and fruit that she had been given and sat back, replete.
“Better?” Bearnard asked, smiling.
Freya nodded. “Much better,” she replied, smiling. “You are such an attentive brother.”
“I try to be.” He looked a little embarrassed at the compliment and Freya saw his cheeks turn a little pink.
He really was precious to her, she thought. She thought of Aidan and tried to see if she could summon up some love for him too, but it was no good. While Bearnard was special, and always would be, Aidan was not. Recently, he had become everything she despised in a man, and Freya could say with her hand on her heart that she would not lose a wink of sleep if she never saw him again.
However, her mind was on Alex again, and she desperately tried to think of a way to get through to him.
Bearnard stood up and kissed Freya on the forehead. “I must go, but call me if you need me,” he said as he moved towards the door. Then he turned to look at her. “And Freya, he will come around. I know him.”
“I am sure he will, Bearnard,” she replied. “Thank you.” This was a lie, since Freya had never seen Alex behaving in such a manner before and did not know what to expect.
She sat around for a while longer, thinking, but after a while she realised that she was doing something akin to reading the same page of a book over and over again without taking the words in. She sighed in frustration and stood up.
The rain was now coming down so heavily, driven by a gale-force wind, that it was slanting in sheets across the fields, making it impossible for Freya to go out again. She paced the room restlessly several times, then went downstairs to the stables, where she took Lance out of his stall and brushed him, not because the horse needed it but merely for something to stave off boredom.
When she had done all she could do, Freya paced around in frustration for a while, then decided to go and confide in Caitrin and Mhairi. She could immerse herself in wedding preparations, but that begged another question; was she still marrying Alex?
