Page 78 of Taming the Highland Misfits
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Alex did not realise he had drifted into a daydream about that night until Freya shook him. He started, then sighed as he saw her again. “I am sorry, Freya,” he said. “I was thinking about the night in the carriage.”
“I was too.” Freya’s voice sounded grim. “It was a terrible experience, but one good thing came out of it.”
He frowned, puzzled. “I cannot think what you mean. A good man died.” He fingered the long white scar on his forearm, a relic of that terrible night.
“You lived, and you were raised to a higher position,” Freya pointed out. “You have more authority now, and more influence. Instead of being a plain guard, you stepped up to the place you were supposed to occupy faster than you would have if Andy had not died. I am not saying that his death was a good thing–of course it wasn’t, particularly not for his wife and family–but do you not see? This makes it easier for us to have the future we want, the one we deserve.”
Freya paused for a moment. “Since you saved his life, my father might be more inclined to look favourably upon our match,” she said thoughtfully. “I know that he wants me to marry to strengthen alliances, but my brothers can also do their part.”
“That is true,” Alex said thoughtfully. “Indeed, I hadn’t thought of that.”
“Between you and me,” Freya said mischievously, “I think Bearnard already has a little romance going on with Laird Montgomery’s daughter.” She winked.
“I have that impression too,” Alex answered, laughing as he stood up. “But the Montgomerys are a small clan and not known for their power and influence. Laird Montgomery has little interest in the land outside his castle except for the part that he can ride horses on.” Laird Montgomery bred some of the finest racehorses and workhorses in Scotland, and was almost obscenely wealthy.
Freya shook her head as she got to her feet. “Sometimes I wish I had the life of a commoner, Alex,” she said angrily. “Then I could marry whom I chose and live a free life. Instead, I am bound by chains of obligation to my family.”
Alex opened the door and they began to walk back to the main body of the castle again. “No, Freya. Remember you will never have to worry about where your next meal comes from.”
Freya nodded, feeling ashamed. “You are right,” she murmured, then she thought of something else. “There might be one other problem.” She was frowning thoughtfully as she spoke. “Gerald Patterson. He has been a thorn in my side ever since I can remember, and I have a feeling that he will do anything he can to stop us from being married, Alex. He is a strange person. It’s as if he can’t bear to see anyone being happy when he is not.”
“What do you suggest we do about him?” he asked.
“I suggest that we go and speak to my father together,” Freya replied. “If he is there we can ask him to leave, but Alex, he is not all-powerful. You saw that when my father promoted you and put him firmly in his place, showing him that he cannot sway him when his decisions are made.”
Freya did not notice the anxious expression that crossed Alex’s face when the steward’s name was mentioned. She was so happy that she was going to be his wife, then suddenly, something occurred to her.
“You have not proposed marriage to me yet,” she pointed out, eyes twinkling.
“What do you mean?” Alex was puzzled. “We are being married. We decided.”
“I mean, you have not asked me yet,” she replied. “Formally.”
Suddenly Alex realised what Freya meant. She wanted the full performance. He grinned, then dropped to one knee and took her hand, saying: “Freya Murdaugh, will you do me the great honour of accepting me as your husband? I love you so much.”
Freya hesitated for a moment as if struggling to make up her mind, then her face broke into a great, beaming smile. “Yes, Alexander MacNeill, I will marry you, and I love you too.”
“Thank you, my sweetheart,” he whispered. He got to his feet, and Freya stood on tiptoe to kiss him, but he stopped her by grasping her arms. “Someone will see us,” he whispered.
Freya threw back her head and let out a peal of laughter. “Do you not think everyone in this entire place knows that we are involved in a relationship already?” she asked incredulously. “They would have to be blind not to have noticed!”
Then she pulled his head down to hers and kissed him so thoroughly that his weak man’s body began to react in its usual fashion, making him feel more than a little embarrassed.
Freya noticed at once then took pity on him and let him go, grinning wickedly. She knew just what she was doing!
“I am such a coward, Freya,” he confessed, looking a little ashamed. “I want this whole matter to be settled as soon as possible.”
“Then meet me in the morning outside my father’s study,” she told him. “And don’t worry; we will be together, and we will prevail. I know it, and I am always right. Let Gerald Patterson do his worst; I have his measure, and I know just how to handle him.”
Alex watched her as she started to walk away, and when she broke into a little dance, he laughed to himself. He hoped his wonderful, impulsive, hot-headed Freya would never change.
7
Freya danced all the way to her room, beginning to sing a cheerful melody when she was halfway up the stairs. She felt as though she was floating on a cloud of pure joy, and that nothing could spoil her happiness.
Mhairi was ironing one of Freya’s day dresses when she came in, grinning from ear to ear. She frowned suspiciously at her, and said, “What has made you sae happy?”
