Page 69 of Taming the Highland Misfits
However, Bearnard had known his sister all his life and could almost read her mind. He got to his feet and poured her more ale, signalling a warning with a frown and an almost imperceptible shake of his head. “No, Freya, calm down. You are making things worse,”it said.
Freya glared at him, whereupon he dropped his gaze to the table and turned away. She looked at her father, but he would not meet her eyes. “You cowards!” she thought, then glanced at Gerald Patterson. He had a smug smile on his face, and Freya experienced a wave of hatred that she had never experienced in her life before.
“You will be sorry you said that,” she growled, then turned on her heel and wrenched the door open. She left, slamming it behind her so hard that it shuddered on its hinges.
3
Freya often liked to look over the battlements to the surrounding countryside when she felt tired or depressed. The sight of the steep, bright green hills, crisscrossed by dry stone walls and hedges, grazed by flocks of black-faced sheep usually managed to cheer her up, especially in the summer months,
The first bloom of spring heather had died away, but Freya knew that it would be back in autumn, and now that summer had arrived, the gorse bushes were spreading their beautiful yellow blankets everywhere. The trees were lush and green, and through their branches, she could see the surface of the loch glittering in the sunshine.
Little thatched cottages stood here and there, and Freya was proud of the fact that she knew the names of all her father’s tenants because she had made it her business to do so. The Laird had told her she should never become involved with the ‘working class’, but due to her contrary nature–which dictated that if she was told not to do something she would become all the more determined to do it–she had made friends with all of them.
Usually, she would be warmed inside by the sight of the glorious Highland summer in all its beauty, but not that day. Her father’s words and those of the odious Gerald Patterson kept ringing in her ears.It is your duty to marry and bear children.Bear children? There was only one man on the face of the earth with whom she wanted to bear children, and he was not a member of any of the clans her father had in mind.
However, it was the words “strategic marriage” that made her want to tear her hair out; they made her feel as though she was being pushed around like a pawn on a chessboard.
Freya stood for a long time thinking about what had been said at the breakfast table; unless she ran away, there seemed to be no way out of the situation she found herself in. She knew that the working class women of her own age had much harder lives, but at least they had some freedom; the choice of whom to marry was not usually thrust upon them.
Perhaps I should go to one of them to ask for some advice,she thought, but quickly dismissed the idea. No matter how friendly the staff was, there was a social gap between them that could not be easily breached. As well as that, even if she swore any of them to secrecy, gossip would inevitably leak out, and the notion of the servants taking bets on whom she would marry was not an appealing one.
She sighed deeply, then pushed herself away from the wall she was leaning on, rubbing her arms, which had been resting against the hard stone. That was what she had to do if they forced her into marriage with someone she hated; she had to make her heart as hard as a stone wall.
No other man was ever going to take Alex’s place in her heart, because there was simply no room left for anyone else in it. Depending on the type of man her father chose for her, she would either grudgingly acquiesce to his wishes, or, if she simply could not bear the prospect of living with a man she disliked, she would flee.
Having a strategy in mind, Freya felt a little better. She knew that plans for her nuptials would move along swiftly now. It took her father a lot of deliberation to make up his mind, but when he had done it, matters were usually settled very rapidly.
If she had to leave, she wanted to be ready, and she wanted no one to know until she had gone. She hoped it would not come to that; she felt sure that he would pick a decent man for her, but could she live with someone who was pleasant, but ordinary?
She realised suddenly that her hair was still bound up in the tight knot that Mhairi had inflicted on her that morning; she growled and began to pull out the dozens of pins that kept her hair in place. It was only one more thing to annoy her.
She reached the courtyard and walked along to the area in the castle grounds where the guards practiced their battle skills, hoping to see Alex, and she was in luck. She stopped in her tracks to gaze at him. “Oh,” she whispered, almost reverently.
Freya had seen Alex hundreds of times, but never like this. Usually he was wearing his uniform, that of Captain of the Guard, but now he was naked to the waist. He was wearing only his breeches and his boots and his body shone with sweat as he wrestled with his opponent. He was the epitome of all that was male, and utterly magnificent.
As it happened, that morning the opponent happened to be her older brother Aidan, and Freya smiled inwardly. Aidan had never been very good at physical activities of any sort, even though he was tall and rangy. He was the only man in the castle who was anywhere near Alex’s height, but there the similarity between them ended.
As she watched, Alex tripped her brother up by hooking a foot behind one of his legs and raising his own leg. Aidan toppled backwards and landed on the hard ground shoulders first with a thump. In an instant, Alex pinned Aidan to the ground by leaning on his upper arms then straddled him, pushing Aidan’s thighs together with his knees with such force that he could not move his legs apart. He was completely immobile.
Aidan was not happy to be in such a position of total helplessness. Not only did it show how poor his combat skills were, but to be in an attitude of submission was a gross affront to his dignity. He yelled obscenities at Alex, writhing and spitting, but Alex remained immobile, the whole of his weight bearing down on Freya’s brother.
Freya could not help smiling as she watched the two men, because it was perfectly clear that the bout was already won. She could not keep her eyes off Alex; the powerful muscles in his arms were bulging with the effort of keeping his adversary pinned down, and his face was screwed into a fierce snarl. She had to admit that if she had not known the gentle side of his nature, Alex would have scared her to death!
Presently, Alex got to his feet and leaned down to help Aidan stand up, but Aidan batted his hand away, cursing furiously.
“You cheated!” he yelled. “You bastard, you are supposed to be training me to fight, not kill me.”
Alex folded his arms and shook his head. “For a start,” he began, “if I had wanted to kill you, I could have done it by now. I could have twisted your head around so hard that it broke, or strangled you. I could even have beaten you to death. I would never have done any of those things, because we are only practising and we both know it, but we must think of each other as if we are indeed enemies. From time to time either of us might injure the other, but I am afraid that is part of the experience. It happens in battle.”
“But you cheated!” Aidan stepped forward, frowning fiercely, and poked Alex in the chest.
“Really?” For a moment, Alex looked genuinely shocked, then his expression changed to one of puzzlement. “And how did I do that?”
“You tripped me up!” Aidan replied angrily.
Freya felt ashamed of her brother. His tone was petulant and childish, but then he had always been that way. Being the oldest son, he knew that he was going to inherit the castle and the lands around it, and he had always treated the people around him as if he were a king and they were his subjects. Everyone was inferior to him.
“Aidan— ” Alex began, but he interrupted him.
