Page 32 of Sinbound to the Highlander
“Me Lady,” Miriam bowed her head and left the room.
Seated, Freya looked at her sister, and the silken curtain of her hair, combed over her shoulder, “I saw the dresses, and I ken that they are more than fitting, thank ye again.”
Elspeth's lips curled, “I also have some jewelry ye might like, and bottles of the same tinctures Maither gave me to remove the spots from me face.”
Reactively, Freya’s hand went to her face, and she skimmed her fingertips over her nose. “I’d like that, thank ye,” she dipped her eyes to the table. She kept her head down, while feeling both of their eyes on the top of her head. “I see beef and lamb, but what else is before me?”
“Deer meat, Freya,” Lady Grace said, kindly, “to yer left. It’s a bit drier than beef, and it tastes of acorns and other nuts that they forage for in the forest. Try it.”
Picking up her knife, Freya cut into the meat and ate it. It was just as Lady Grace had said, less delicious than beef but sweeter. She dropped the knife. “Aye, it as ye said it was,” she then turned to another dish. “And this one?”
“Stewed hare,” Lady Grace said, “With a touch of honey for sweetness.”
Under the Lady’s guidance, Freya sampled many dishes, a few familiar to her like the rabbit stew, but some that were not. Halfway through the meal, Freya felt as stuffed at the pheasant she was sampling. Between bites, light, non-too intrusive questions flowed.
“When did ye learn to read?” Lady Grace asked while buttering a chunk of bread.
“From a mix of people,” Freya replied. “Me Faither, and the preacher at the church, Missus Beathag also. Me Faither is one of the men who pack up the crop for sending out. They have to be accurate to be sent off. I spent many evenings with Maither at the church, and many days with the local healer woman, and she helped me master it.”
She paused to drink some water, but found she had just little more to say. “I suppose what I had was enough for me to marry from those who were like me, but now, I suppose me fortunes have changed.”
“Ye believed ye would get married in the village?” Lady Grace asked.
Freya’s smile was wry, “Most likely, but I dinnae do anythin’ to bring it on. I’ve found friends with some men there, but nothin’ enough to make a move to marriage. Now, though, I realize that me humble talents need more to be added to them.”
“We did agree to havin’ the tutors we used for Elspeth for ye,” Lady Grace said. “So, I dinnae see that being a problem. There are a few suitors who we were lookin’ for Elspeth, and I am assured they would like ye too.”
Freya nearly dropped her knife. Marriage—to one of Elspeth’s old suitors? Good god! All through the conversation and the meal, Elspeth had not said a word, and Freya looked at her with concern. “Elspeth, are ye well?”
She sighed into her goblet, “Mostly. Me stomach doesnae feel all that well, but it’s better than a few days ago. The cider helps.”
Lady Grace spun to Elspeth with concern marked on her face. She reached over and laid her palm on her daughter’s paling face. “Ye’re a little warm, darling, why daenae ye go and lie down. I’ll take ye to yer room then have Anise attend to ye.”
“Aye, Maither,” Elspeth said, while standing. “Nice to have ye here, Freya. Apologies for me nay interacting with ye much today.”
“I understand,” Freya said. “Rest well.”
As the two of them left, Freya sighed and sagged in her seat. Her eyes coasted over the table, where after the three of them had eaten for nearly an hour, it was still more than half full of food.
Uneasy, she stood and went to the window; this one, however, showed her the castle’s inner courtyard where, grounds men went around cutting bushes and raking up the fallen leaves. A few other servant women hurried past with buckets of water, or pans of dried washing. Beyond it was the inner curtain wall with battlements, and walkways where guards paced from time to time.
The door pushed open, and she spun, ready to ask Lady Grace to excuse her to her rooms—but met Laird Ruthven instead.
“Me L—er, Evan—, what are ye doing here?”
* * *
The words Miss Milleson were on Evan’s lips, but they died on his tongue when he saw Freya there instead. With the warm golden rays streaming in from the window behind her, her auburn hair glinted ochre and gold. He went speechless for a breath of time. She was naturally breathtaking, surrounded by a halo of gold, and he was entranced.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I came because Laird Lobhdain told me where to find Miss Milleson. I planned to speak with her on our engagement.”
His eyes darted to the table, noting the half-eaten foods there, but then flew back to Freya. “I assume ye three had a meal. Is she well?”
“For the most part, aye,” Freya replied, keeping her gaze level with his. “In the end, Elspeth said that her stomach wasnae feeling well, so Lady Grace took her back to her rooms. How…how did the meeting with Laird Lobhdain go?”
Evan left the door half open before he took a chair and moved it closer to her, “It went well, to be honest. Now that the threat of war is lessening, we’ve decided to pace the courtship as Miss Milleson would have wanted it. We still will be monitoring the rebel troops with me men at different locations than his will be placed at. With any divine favor, this war will be gone from us completely so we can live in peace.”
Taking a seat near him, Freya folded her hands on her lap, “I’m relieved to ken that. If we did go to war, our lives would be upended. Our fields would be naethin,’ but patches of dirt after the raiders ravage it, our men would die, and the children would run hungry.”
