Page 120 of Taming the Highland Misfits
That was when Aidan entered. He froze for a few seconds when he saw them, then demanded indignantly: “Get out of my room at once! What are you doing in here?”
At that moment, Bearnard drew the dagger out of his pocket, then whipped his brother around and held it to his neck.
Freya held up the letters she had found. “We are going to show these to father,” she said with a grim smile, “to stop him from executing the wrong man!”
Aidan’s expression was one of sheer terror as he realised the hopelessness of his position. “What are you going to do to me?” He was so frightened that his voice came out as a croak.
“Wait and see,” Bearnard replied, pushing him forward. He moved the point of the dagger to Aidan’s back but as soon as they saw the crowd around the gallows, he would raise it to his neck again.
Freya kept up with her brothers as they made their way as quickly as they could through the maze of passages that led out to the courtyard and the stables. Freya was horrified to see that a crowd had gathered there, all eager to see the spectacle of someone’s life ending. Had she had time to notice it, however, she would have seen that many of the women were weeping and some were praying. Alex was well-loved, and only a few of the assembly had come for macabre entertainment.
The crowd parted for them, each person wearing a similar expression of shock, and they ascended to the scaffold, where Freya met her father’s incredulous gaze.
* * *
Once she had read the letter to the assembly, Freya scanned them and saw that their reaction was either one of anger or incredulity. However, a few still looked doubtful, so she produced the other papers that she had taken from Aidan’s room.
“These letters,” she began, “concern me personally. Each one of these is written in my brother’s handwriting, and they are missives to no less than four different young Lairds or Lairds-to-be, offering them my hand in marriage.
I had no knowledge of any of them, and I would have refused them all anyway. They are all despicable men, and I promise that not one of you would allow your daughters to marry any of them, no matter how rich they were.” She glowered at her father. “I will marry Alex or no one, so if you want to kill him, you must kill me too, because I cannot live without him!”
The Laird opened his mouth to say something, but he was silenced by Patterson, who had made a shout of protest.
“None of those letters has been sent,” he cried. “Aidan would not have done so without his father’s permission–and I would certainly have advised him against it.” He looked at Aidan, who nodded sheepishly.
“None of those letters should have been written by anyone but me!” Laird Murdaugh said indignantly. “It is not Aidan’s place to do such a thing.” He glowered at his son and moved to stand beside him, then he poked a finger into his chest. “You are not fit to inherit this estate, and I will make sure that you do not.”
Presently, Alex spoke up. “M’Laird, may I say something?” he asked. His tone was both polite and angry at the same time.
Laird Murdaugh turned to look at him. “I think it is time you did, Alex,” he replied. “I hope you can make some sense of this, because as far as I can understand, it seems that my own son has been plotting against me. But surely that cannot be true?” He looked as though he was desperate not to believe this, and Alex felt infinitely sorry for him.
“Let me tell you what my uncle told me,” he began. “I went to tell them about my engagement to Freya and to invite them to the wedding, but the family seemed not to welcome the news as I thought they would. Yet Laird MacNeill was very glad to see me, because he had wanted to send a message to me in secret, but was afraid that it might be intercepted by someone from this family. The reason he was so worried about this was that your son had been heard shouting some very valuable secrets in one of the shadiest and most disreputable taverns in Cairnheugh.
He was drunk to the point that he was incapable of standing up, and was telling everyone how the alliance with the MacNeills was in a delicate condition. He said that he was going to take over the MacNeills and the Murdaughs when his father was gone. That would start a war between our two families, of course. It sounded as though you, M’Laird, were the aggressor. Then I thought of the words ‘when you were gone’, and realised that this scheme probably did not involve you. I could not tell whether he planned to murder you or not, but he was involved in the plan with Gerald Patterson, so I would not be surprised if that was his plan. He seems to value no one but himself.” He tossed Patterson a contemptuous glance, then went on.
“Laird MacNeill and I worked out that the scheme had not been made by you, M’Laird, but by Gerald Patterson and Aidan. He also announced that they were going to send letters to all the neighbouring clans in order to find a husband for Freya. We have just found those letters.
When I came back here, I was going to come to see you, but I was waylaid by Patterson, who told me that the consequences would be terrible if Freya found out about this. I could tell that he meant to do harm to her if I said anything, so I kept my mouth shut.
He also asked me to break off my betrothal to Freya, which I agreed to do because I was afraid that he would hurt her, so I did nothing. I should have told her everything and we could have run away together. I am sorry, Freya.” He looked at her sadly but she only smiled at him and gestured to him to go on speaking.
Alex turned to Aidan. “It seems that you have no courage to stand on your own two feet, does it not, Aidan?” he asked contemptuously. “You can do nothing without your companion, Mr Patterson, can you? Your father had to employ a clever steward to help him with the estate because his own son was not capable, is that right?”
Aidan opened and shut his mouth in confusion for a few seconds. He was clearly at a loss for anything to say, and he could see no way out of the corner into which he had backed himself. In desperation, he charged head-first at Alex, whose hands were still bound and had no defence.
It did him no good, however, since both the Laird and Bearnard were standing within a few feet from him. Both dived at him, knocking him to the wooden floor. Freya had moved quickly to shield Alex, putting herself between him and the tangle of fighting men on the platform.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Gerald Patterson managed to shake off his guards, since they had been watching the spectacle too, and had loosened their grip on him. He tried to force his way through the crowd, but no one would let him past, and he found himself once more in the grip of two strong pairs of hands, but this time he was bound and led away. He glared back at Alex, but there was nothing he could do.
The Laird came to stand in front of Alex. “Release him,” he ordered the guards, then he put his hands on Alex’s shoulders. “Please forgive me, Alex. I do not deserve it, and I would not blame you if you could not, but believe me, I am deeply sorry.”
Alex looked him in the eye and nodded slowly. “I will try,” he answered solemnly, “but it may not be for a while.”
“I understand.” He stood back as Freya rushed into Alex’s arms and hugged him as though she would never let him go.
Freya felt Alex’s arms go around her and sighed with pleasure and relief. The days of turmoil, worry and stress had gone; Alex was safe, and all the days of fear were behind her. She felt as though she had come home from a long journey, because Alex was her home, her shelter and her safe haven.
She drew back a little to look at him and found herself being soundly and passionately kissed, as Alex’s hunger for her was satisfied–at least for a little while.
